Institutional Turmoil

“It is the mind in us that yields to the laws made by us, but never the spirit in us.”

--Kahlil Gibran

There is so much going on in my head lately. Much of it has to do with being a living contradiction within a living contradiction of a graduate program. Why is it that no one wants to discuss the reproduction taking place simultaneously with the critique and resistance of the status quo within which we reside? How can ideals of change, justice and betterment be professed and aspired to, when at the drop of a hat, the maintenance of oppressive structures are upheld and enforced on Others perceived to be a threat? What happened to conflict resolution; to understanding; to putting in the work that goes toward defying the status quo which means dealing with discomforting things, people, ideas? We talk of disruption as a powerful tool that leads to a multitude of possibilities in ways of being that are possible, yet treat those people, things, and ideas that disrupt as a problematics in need of reprimanding if not removal.

I am constantly struggling with finding my voice and expressing it with confidence. When I experience the turmoil of these contradictions taking place, I am bewildered. I thought the point of the academic endeavor was to become a self-actualized scholar, which meant journeying through the landscape of ideas and issues and emerging with the formulation of one's own voice and way of knowing and doing things. Yet I am a witness to the shaping power of our figure heads, and the reality that these people hold our lives and livelihoods in their hands. It is they who must sign the paper of approval. How can I think that I have the power to become when it has to meet the approval of the powers that be? Yet the powers that be behave as if they have no power; as though we are their colleagues; that is until we are either met with bureaucratic realities of things like coursework, exams, and other tests of measurement, or in need of usually negative sanctioning.

Must I always conform to what is inherently contradictory? I am clearly not okay with this yet feel as though, when attempting to articulate this inner turmoil, that it is the institution that is defended by way of the issue being made personal, rather than effectively examined with alternatives to be considered. The people with power are suddenly powerless to the workings of the institution and those that have a problem can either shape up and conform or just go away. Those that have been treated well by the institution have a hard time seeing things as troubling, reducing responses to critiques of it as a personal problem to be met with individualized solutions. And so the ways of institutionalization continue.  

But I don't want it to be this way! I want meaningful work and relationships to emerge from my journey. For the powerful to be transparent in their power yet open to alternatives to institutional ways of being.  For those around me and myself to be willing to work with and through the troubling for the sake of being all the better for it instead of silencing it. I want a mentor, friend, and collaborator, not just someone to defer to because of their position. I want to be okay with expressing what's in my soul without fear of being shut down. Challenge me, but not for the purpose of belittling. I am in need of much nurturing and realize that institutions don't hug back, but refuse to believe that those that have been institutionalized   have no humanity, no soul, no desire to make things different. It doesn't have to be this way. When will we let our spirits, knowing and feeling what is right, lead us? 

Forgiveness

i'm not quite there yet. not sure if i ever will be.
i realized this today when talking to sis about the man i dread becoming because he is very much a part of me. what he did still serves as a barrier to any possibility of being able to relate to him as an adult. i still feel like a docile child around him. he did a good job of making sure i was docile, incapable of standing up for myself, my siblings, my mother. he contends he did nothing wrong. still manipulative. twisting truths to suit his vision best. how can i reconcile with such ugliness? pretend to get along with it? i abhor him. i abhor what i am because of how well he shaped me and my anger. the pit of black  that rests deep in my soul, my past and present. how can i avoid bringing it into my future? i want nothing more than to embrace and get along with it (or do i? should i?), with him. but he treats me the way he has for 18 years, and then i'm magically an adult that can relate to him as a friend? not a chance. i could never be real with him, he made sure we knew that. my inability to be myself freely (not that i know who that is) will always be a barrier not just to our relationship, but to my relationship with others. i am a master at walking on eggshells just to appease. i hate that it's either this or being him, which is unacceptable. i just want to be me and happy. but who can teach me these things when all i've learned is anything but?

no i am not ready to forgive him. i do not think this would change if he were to be on his deathbed the next day.

does this make me incapable of practicing what i want to preach? of love and acceptance? of great understanding?

how can i let go? how can i forget? his teachings are forever seared into my psyche and soul...

Clouds and Over-coming

There was a moment I remember so vividly I wrote a poem about it. It was late fall, and I was embroiled in issues--most of them stemming from graduate school. This moment likely dictated the way I viewed the following scene.

Evening clouds from an earlier storm were like gray cotton in a darkening sky. The sun finally made an appearance, though it was mostly from under the clouds. It's light gave the clouds dark smoky coral highlights. It made the clouds look scary-beautiful. At the top of a hill I was walking, I saw the sun's rays beaming behind a set of clouds, lining its edges with a burning bright light. I finally understood the phrase "every cloud has a silver lining" upon seeing it.

I was so struck by this imagery that I could not help but eventually construct the following poem yet to be titled:

Every cloud is lined with a bright burning light

Showing us that the sun is there shining, waiting

The contours of the clouds show us their complexity

Shaping and being shaped by the elements—even the sun

Clouds serve as barriers to the sun and sky

Barriers like those that are socially constructed 

Giving off the appearance of stone

When they are nothing more than clouds

Shaping and being shaped

We know they cannot, do not block the sun forever

So too with barriers

Which is why we must

Keep reaching

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I hope it's as inspirational to others as it has been for me.  

Until next time...

A Dichotomous Look at My Journey

What  I'm about to write I realize is a problematic way of looking at my life so far along with the potential my life has. At the moment, it makes sense that what has happened up to this point is viewed in this way. Maybe it has to do with my level of comfort with dichotomies that I hope to move beyond at some point. But when I think of all that has happened, my mind goes to this...

The cello is an instrument I adore. I played at one point and hope to pick it up again. For me its sound resembles the human voice, a human range of emotions, even the human soul. When I would play, I was often drawn to songs that emote on a sorrowful level. I identified with this sound and range of emotion as much as the cello did. This was (and still is to a degree) the sound that resided in my soul. Life was rather oppressive. There was little opportunity to openly emote true feelings and in general repercussions for getting 'out of line' (which wasn't well defined and quite arbitrary at that) were severe in my mind when it came to punishment. There was no sense of balance beyond sibling camaraderie and school, to the overbearing sense of discipline that guided our lives. It was hard to imagine there was any escape except in fantasy--which my siblings and I would play out from time to time when home alone.  Needless to say, I learned to master carrying around this sense of heavy often negative feelings with no outlet

The ukulele is an instrument I discovered well into adulthood and admired for its light heartedness that came with its sound. It is often described as an instrument of the heart. I identified with this instrument because it aligned with my desire to be a happier person. Its small frame and light body seemed welcoming to anyone willing to learn. Like the quest for inner happiness and peace, it takes practice and dedication (something I have yet to be 100 percent about which might say something about my own dedication to the path of inner peace and happiness). But its always there and sounding chipper  when I pick it up.  

In a way, I see the sharp difference between these two instruments as a reflection of the choices I've made in my life. Decisions that might have meant self denial of happiness, love, and living. As a child, the first major decision I made to live with my father instead of my mother. At the time it seemed like a practical decision, one that guaranteed  I would turn out a good person instead of reckless and possibly pregnant at 16--so my father would have me believe if I choose to go with her. In retrospect, it wouldn't have mattered what decision I made because the only one that would have been respected by my father, whom I was already living with, was to stay where I was. I learned this after my little brother made it known that he really wanted to live with mom repeatedly. A revelation I believe led to his increased abuse at my father's hand.

The second major decision I made was, once again, made out of duty to practicality. It was a decision to neither deny nor confirm that my father was overly abusive to my little brother. The practicality came into play upon the realization that either way, my sister and I would be going back home with our father, who would lay into us for saying the 'wrong' things (basically things that made him look bad). This came to pass but only in intensely verbally abusive ways, which meant I had to intensify my ability to hold things in.

In adulthood, I kept making these kinds of 'practical' choices that often meant a denial of happiness. The latest example coming from a willingness to stay with an oppressive situation in graduate school before being pushed into moving on to better things. All my life it seems that the 'practical' decisions and paths have also been wrought with oppression and despair...

I realize I'm rambling with my stories, only to say that I hope in seeking out a lighter, and happier path that I am not too late in my endeavors. That this path will, like my mother, still be willing to welcome me with open arms and an open heart. I want my heart and soul to take on the lightness of the ukulele, though I still find beauty and value in the humanity that is also a part of the cello.