Feelings I'm Working through...

Being overwhelmed and overworked by what is ultimately the bs of academia makes it difficult to reassert my what my purpose is in being here. I want to do well by others through my work. Yet blow-ups with colleagues that have left festering wounds that make it impossible to make eye-contact, the departure of dear friends who keep me focused on my purpose, and not really knowing the right way to go on top of this make it difficult to know what steps to take. Now I'm taking on too much, making it hard to see clearly about any one thing. I want to be a friend, a good person people want to turn to, yet by asserting myself, have I burned bridges to friendship? I feel more alienated than ever when it comes to what I'm doing academically because I am unsure of the way to go, the way that allows me to go towards love of self and love of others through action. I don't want for anything to be too late when it comes to this but I can't help but wonder. It all feels like too much. And then I heard this song during a hot yoga session, a good articulation of the feelings I'm working through... a longing for all of this to work out...

Until next time...

Unwelcome visit from an old friend

I was raised not to have a voice. Authoritarian conditioning made sure of this. I am therefore an awkward person at times. Unsure of what the right move is to make. Not sure that I am being taken seriously.

I have a speaking style and voice characterized as "funny". No wonder no one takes me seriously.

I was that kid in high school. The one that fit in nowhere. No one wanted anything to do with me if I wasn't fitting the mold cast by stereotypes and media images of "me". I was miserable, couldn't wait to leave home or high school. Can hardly seem to find a space where I am accepted as me; where I am taken seriously. Doesn't matter what I do to "earn" respect, because at the end of the day, I will be this short, mediocre, plain-looking, stony-faced person who talks funny. Always subject to humiliation at home and at school.

So picture me trying to be a teacher. I thought I was beyond this. Ready to become the person with little trace of these massive insecurities. Facilitating a class of kids barely out of high school. The high achievers. The underprivileged youth in need of a chance to "make it". This is their moment.

 So why are they acting like a bunch of entitled over-privileged spoiled kids that don't deserve sh*t? And why do I feel like the kid with negative 100 cool points angry for not being taken seriously?

I forget that I became an adult mentally as a child of 12, maybe younger. Knew how to navigate the adult world of saying and doing what those in power want  you to say and do in order to simply be left alone. Knew that power was coercive and violence was how respect was gained (knowledge that wasn't for me to obtain; simply to be aware of).   Knew that to be an adult meant being able to pay bills and thus keep a roof over my head. Survival was my area of expertise. Becoming a liberated being with a sense of freedom and empowerment was not a part of my programming.

 Coping with authoritarian styles meant having a cartoonishly violent imagination. Hypothesizing that all it would take for me to be validated as human being deserving of being taken seriously was a baseball bat to the kneecaps of those who thought otherwise. This type of joking goes well with Sis, who understands all too well my conditioning and resulting insecurities and also that I would never do such a thing in real life (thinking it is bad enough).

Overcoming such a mentality has been difficult; especially when it seems time and time again the humiliating ways of status quo norm enforcement remind me I do not belong or deserve to be taken seriously. A most recent incidence occurred in the "liberal" walls of academia in the "socially conscious" and "justice oriented" field of sociology.

In any case, I wonder how I can expect to be respected unless it's through coercion? This is not what I want of any position of leadership. In thinking that this is the only way to be treated decently, I know I am no different than my father and am justifying my upbringing as being warranted. I hate what that man has done to me in this respect. No matter how far I try to run situations like this have me confronting this deeply ingrained and hated aspect of myself.

 This is not who I want to be. It is certainly not who I am, for I am too weak to be such a person. But the fact that I am aware that this "persuasive" mode of power produces results in terms of being validated bothers the crap out of me. I don't want to become this person. I abhor this person and the system that produces and validates it. Love is not the end result of this type of exercise of power only fear and hatred.

I want to overcome this and be the loving and happy person that I aspire to be. A positive beacon to those around me; especially those that have gone without. I want to be a beacon of love in the work that I want to do. I want to give of myself and be empowered when doing so.

But when situations like the one I faced today occur--with people for whom I wish to be a positive beacon only to have them peel back hardened scar tissue--I find myself face to face with this old  hurt and angry friend with the cartoonishly violent imagination coping with humiliation and powerlessness (the one who seems to understand).

If I were to have a conversation with this "friend"  and the positive person I aspire to be about trying to transcend this sort of inward and outward oppression and my reaction to wounding experiences, it would (at the moment) sound like this song (which has so many different meanings for me depending on the weather it seems).

Thanks for "listening". Until next time...

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...