anything and everything i can ever know about the world will always be limited.  i could harness every ounce of my knowledge and learn everything there is for me to know, and it still would never be complete.  my knowledge can only ever be true for me.  what i learn about the world is influenced by my every experience, every choice, and every piece of knowledge previously learned.  it would be the utmost in ego to assume that anything i know would be absolutely true for anyone else.

however, i do think that i must have some purpose.  if i was put on this earth and in this life to simply serve myself– what good would that do?  human beings are, by nature, social creatures.  we interact with each other in a way that profoundly influences our individual experiences.  if we were to fully embrace isolatory individualism, i believe our world would quickly find its demise.  for this reason, i continually push myself into the uncomfortable position of some kind of public existence.

i realize what i know is likely not what you know.  but i find great value in discovering how we all intersect, creating a community of experiences, choices, skills, and knowledge.  even if my role in that is merely sharing my own (and only my own) truth.  i cannot assume to know my value, be it great or minuscule.  but, for me, the incalculable worth of my knowledge is much less important than the act of sharing it.  it is perhaps the greatest thing i am able to give, making it a rather important part of my experience as a human being.

what makes us a part of the world are the things we choose to share.  what we give of our selves to the collective whole– that will be our legacy.  my gift is only as great as my ability to use and share it.  if i cannot share, i may become nothing more than a waste of my potential.  and even though that would allow for a more comfortable existence for me, it would also be a shame.

so today i pick up my pen with intent to write something for you.  for you, from me.  because it is really all i am able to give.  and i hope it is enough.  even though the paper i write on and the web domain you read at are impermanent, the resonance of my soul’s words on your soul’s ears could possibly be great.  and the point of connection between the writing and the reading is what propels us all forward.

our ability and our desire to share may not be congruent, but i believe we must push ourselves to whichever end is greatest for it is possibly the very point of our being at all.  and while i cannot claim to know much, i know i am moved by a force far greater than myself.  and that i must share that which i do know in an effort to be a part of the world instead of just being apart.

i intend to fold up these words and tuck them away inside myself for the times that are most trying.  when the fear of losing what i know feels greater than the joy of gaining that which i do not.  because it is in those moments that i must remember that to participate is to live.  and i would like to be alive.

there is a depth of quiet i am constantly striving to achieve each day.  some days, i make choices that allow me another step toward this goal.  and other days, i make choices that add to the chaos.  the world is loud; it offers distraction at every turn.  we are all susceptible to it.  we must simply adapt; evolve to accept the fast pace and loud environment, and most importantly, learn to move slowly through it.  i am by no means masterful at this art.  i am merely a student in the world, learning from every experience.  i try to soak in the lessons, absorb them into my spirit so i can rely on them when times are hard.

i often have to remind myself of this.  each day i am alive, i am able to learn something.  each day i am able to learn something, i am able to live.  learning takes many forms.  it can be very literal: i go to a class, a teacher passes me knowledge,  i am tested.  other times it is more figurative: i take the time on my way to a coffee shop to feel the air as it enters my body, cold and crisp in the winter; to feel my feet in my shoes, on the sturdy but broken concrete as i walk.

when i am able to achieve some kind of quiet in this loud world, i am better able to focus on what is real.  the urge to disassociate from the things that are difficult; to feign ignorance in the face of a fiercely ugly reality can be strong.  what is real can be hard to see, hard to hear, and often hard to believe.  when we pass someone on the street asking for food, we often simply shake our head and look away.  when a story is told that challenges our understanding of reality, it is easy to just dismiss it as wrong.  we may close our eyes, turn our heads, put on headphones, dig in our heels, and hang on to what we think we know.  to resist change.

change is what keeps us alive.  literally, the cells of our bodies divide, the planets shift; life moves.  stagnancy is death.  as a people, we must monitor what it is we put into the world.  does it contribute to change?  does it contribute at all?  what are we bringing into the world?  what are we leaving behind?  i strongly believe that every action and every nonaction has an effect.  the food i eat, the things i buy, where i live, what i spend my money on, who i talk to, who i vote for, what i fight for, what i think about, what i write about, what i say, what i don’t say, and how i do or don’t say it matters.

i spend a lot of time with words, reading them, writing them, thinking them, saying them.  everybody has a thing.  words are my thing.  i try to choose my words thoughtfully, in every context.  recently, i have put a lot of thought into sarcasm.  what exactly is its purpose?  how does it contribute to conversation?  with this, as with everything, my history greatly informs my understanding.  and i have a long history with sarcasm as a deflective technique.  in fact, i used to use all language defensively.  now, i am dedicated to my own truth and carefully choose my words to communicate only what is real.  it is my desire to go even further that.  i hope through practice to someday only bring words into this world that have a purpose.

i have noticed that so many people i interact with use sarcasm regularly.  some people employ it as their main form of communication.  i’m not even sure if it is actually communication.  according to the meriam webster dictionary, sarcasm is “a mode of satirical wit depending for its effect on bitter, caustic, and often ironic language that is usually directed against an individual.”  another definition i found, thanks to wikipedia, says sarcasm is the  “rhetorical device of using a characterization of something or someone in order to express contempt.  It is closely connected with irony, in that the two are often combined in the same statement.”  more often than not, sarcasm feels destructive.  it asserts the opposite of what is true in a tone meant to make the receiver of said comment feel inferior.   how is this okay?  and how is it that sarcasm has taken over as a main form of communication?

i use sarcasm.  but i don’t like it, not when i use it and not when other people do.  well timed wit and irony are amusing, and i definitely appreciate the variety that they add to communication.  but i wonder what we could achieve without it, if we all would just say what we mean.  think about how much more we would know about ourselves and each other.

every choice has a consequence; every action a reaction.  if my goal is to find quiet in the chaos, to learn from every moment, to welcome change, and to contribute with purpose, i need to make choices that allow for this.  i cannot know what is right for everyone, and i can only strive know what is right for me.  i want to be more real, even if it means saying less.  perhaps it is how i can say the most.

each day is made up of innumerable moments in which i interact with the world.  recently, i have attempted to clear away the noise and resulting chaos– a constant process– in order to have the time and space to be able to listen more carefully.  the funny thing is, there are far fewer words than i expected to find.  instead, it is more a challenge for me to feel.

i am surprised, overwhelmed even, by the amount of things i experience regularly that stream into my consciousness as a series of pictures, strong emotions; gut instincts.  before i allowed myself this (occasionally frustrating) gift, my life read more like a script.  i was rehearsed, practiced, well thought out– as if my life was a stage, and i was merely playing a role.  every moment a delicate symphony of lies.  i had yet to truly inhabit myself, experience my life, feel- really feel the world.  i have to admit, it is perhaps the most difficult, and dare i say, bravest thing i have ever done.

with this shift in self, i have moved from scripting my life to translating it.  i am full of words.  they roll around inside my self waiting for the right moment to align them in a way that is meaningful, and when i’m lucky, perhaps also beautiful.  i think it is my gift, this desire and ability to take a moment of raw energy and have the guts to try to capture it in words.  it’s not always successful, but when it is, my heart beats slow and strong and my spirit seems to root itself further into the earth when i feel i have done that moment justice.  i let it live a little longer.  and occasionally, i get to share those words with someone else and perhaps then they too get to experience that moment for the reality and truth of what it was.

as someone who lives my life striving for accurate translation of moments, i have stumbled along something words do no justice.  it would be the greatest gift i could be given if i am simply able to spend the rest of my days helping it find its words.  but for now, i can only begin a feeble attempt:

i have fallen in love.  although i know that is how it is said, it feels wrong.  this is the opposite of falling.  love has allowed me the unique opportunity to rise, rise above myself and my fear.  if i never feel this way again, i will at least be able to hold on to this:

love is knowing oneself truly and welcoming someone to see you for who you are.  it is looking at the person you love and opening your arms to her and allowing her to feel so safe, she offers you her soul.  and because you love, admire, and respect her, you cradle it tenderly, appreciate her gift, but never take it.  you hold her and support her, but always let her have herself because she has done a beautiful job becoming who she is, and she deserves to keep becoming.  when you need something, you ask for it, knowing she will help you if she can.  you never take from her.  you hold her heart and her hand, fingers intertwined, and just know.  you don’t have to have a plan; you can simply trust.  it is impossible to not believe in what you have because it is so impurely pure.  it is so real and true that you can see each other for who you are with no judgment, no expectation.  you believe in each other in such a way, you can’t even begin to imagine how you would ever want to impose your wants on hers.  you understand that they will sometimes overlap, and other times, they will wind away from each other.  but through it all, you trust in her grip on your hand, solid and gentle.  you trust that as long as it is also right for her, she will not leave your side.  and if, for any reason, that were to change, you would support her choice to go, because you know she would do the same for you.  love is reciprocity lived.

there is nothing in the world that can prepare you for this feeling.  it hits you square in the jaw, makes your eyes water, and dares you to look it in the eye.

i guess i’m a sucker for a dare.

this experience is bigger, greater, more than i can capture in strings of letters.  i can honestly say, as i grasp for the words, that i am just so grateful for the beautiful person who has shown me this.  she has shown me a world i feared did not exist-  the elusive dream that is true love.  she has left her imprint on my soul for an eternity.  i have to believe i am better thanks to her; thanks to this.  the world brought us together, but we both made the choice to let this be.  i am proud of my choice.  people speak of love as a distraction, but i have never felt more focused; driven.  i believe there is true greatness is knowing oneself.  i think, perhaps, the only thing that exceeds it is having the rare and blessed opportunity to share that knowledge with someone who gives the same to you.

i have been searching, searching for some kind of sign.  asking, how can i know if this path is right?  where should i be going?  am i supposed to do this alone, forever?  because, i don’t know if i can.  i asked the world these questions, let go of my expectations, put out my arms, and hoped.

the answer is love.  trust me when i say, if anything can change the world, it is this.

[endless thanks to the ever-inspiring, amazing person who is the raw inspiration behind these words.  from the bottom of my heart and the depths of my being, thank you.]

i believe in fate.  i believe in fate, not as some pre-determined destiny; decided path; inevitable fixed truth, but instead as an ideal.  i believe in fate, by which i mean the possibility of Self.  my fate is not who i will be, already decided for me, but who i may be, who i can be, who i am capable of being.  my fate is the destiny of my best Self.  and my life is a journey in attempt to reach this ideal, to live my potential.  my destiny is the life of who i am when i am whole.  of course, life is not lived in a vacuum.  things happen, good and bad.  chance, luck, access: these things matter.  each has an impact on my ability to reach this fated goal of Self.  but, i believe the most important part of this quest is choice.

in every moment, there exists possibility.  possibility for greatness, for happiness, for wholeness.  in order to attain this, i must choose wisely in my life.  for my life is not just a string of circumstances, it is also my response to them.  circumstances will always attempt to shape me.  but equally powerful are my choices to shape them.

the history of my Self is a complex story, riddled with hurt, damage, and pain.  but equally important to my story is the healing, love, and joy.  i am not myself without both sides.  which is why i choose to look on my past with love and respect, since it has brought me to this very place.  in this moment, i am proud of who i am.  i believe in myself.  i trust in my ability to make thoughtful decisions.

if in every moment, there is a choice.  then, in every moment, to every choice, i make a decision.  i decide, in each moment, in each circumstance, in every situation, who i want to be.  do i want to live this moment striving to be my best Self?  if so, how do i need to act?  what choice must i make next if i wish to live my potential?  what must i do to lead a successful life?  i really do ask myself these questions.  and i answer them, too.

success for me is not about money, power, or fame.  it is about my ability to be whole, to share my Self, to spread light.  the metric by which i measure my success as a human being is unorthodox.  i accept the fact that i may live my entire life financially insecure, that when i die my name will likely not be printed in books, forever remembered.  but i have hope and faith in people.  and i believe, if i am able to live my life in a way that strives for my fated ideal, that my impact will be felt.  the energy i put into the world, it must reverberate in the souls of those i encounter.  the people that i meet, the relationships i build–however brief– matter.  and those experiences cannot be quantified, boiled down to numbers able to be measured.

i have a difficult time truly connecting with people because i feel it, the connection, so intensely.  i have found it easier to disconnect, to allow myself space to stay protected.  that is changing.  i am still not a particularly social person.  but for each person i meet, there is a collection of moments.  and in those moments, i have a choice.  i am able to choose not only who i wish to be, but also how i want to relate that Self to another.  i may be the best person i can be, but if i never share that Self with my world, what good is it?

i am so grateful for this evolution of my understanding.  it has allowed me a great, invaluable gift.  people surprise me, in the most beautiful way.  one of my peers and classmates, whom i have had a very difficult time understanding as we often disagree, showed her Self to our class the other day.  for our final project presentation, she made the most touching, powerful, and beautiful short film i have ever seen.  it allowed me to see her for her potential.  it allowed me to see who she Is.  i think i understand now.  and i appreciate so much her decision to bravely show her Self, and my decision to see her.  she is the same person who sometimes infuriates me.  but i have a better understanding of her whole self.  and it makes sense.  i think if we had more time in the same class, we may grow to understand each other even further.  i wish i had that time.

over the past year and a half i have been consciously working on my Self.  i have taken time to heal, to understand, and i have created a version of myself i am proud of.  but over the past year and a half, i have isolated myself.  maybe it was necessary for the work i was doing, maybe not.  but, now, in this moment, i choose to connect.  to open my arms and accept the gifts that are delivered into them.  what the world has in store for me, i cannot know.  but, i trust in my ability to choose wisely.

i believe in fate.  people are brought into my life for a reason.  and the choices i make, to connect or not are invaluable.  they decide the course of my life, the version of my Self i am able to be.  i choose to welcome love, for whatever duration it makes itself available to me.  the choices my loved ones make impact me, and the choices i make impact them reciprocally.  with each individual decision, we build together our fated paths.  from that, light inevitably shines.

[special thanks to Iele Paloumpis and Niv Acosta, my friends and neighbors, for the conversation and inspiration for this piece.]

if you haven’t already, you should watch the video above because it is what frames this post.

i’m in college, trying to get my undergraduate degree.  the majority of my classmates are 18-21 and i’m 25.  not a huge age difference, but a noticeable one when you’ve been on your own for 8 years.  college small talk consists of a few standbys “so, do you like this class?”  “how’d you do on that test?” and the most used, “what’s your major?” which is often followed up with “what do you want to be?”  one of the things i love so much about school is that it gives me the opportunity to interact with folks i normally wouldn’t know.  it’s a very special environment, ripe with knowledge.

now, i’m in school because i want to be.  i love it.  i had to drop out at 19 and practically counted the days until i was able to get back to school.  5 years later, i’m doing it.  and i’m very proud of that.  but i cannot even begin to tell you how many people do not want to be in school.  or the people who are there just because they feel they should be.  i’m not counting the people i assume this is true for because of their classroom antics.  i’m talking about folks that i have conversations with.  some of my “school friends” (you know the people you are friends with at school, but only know there) are like this.

if you were to pose this question, “why are you here?” to a class of 150 students, i would be scared to see the results.  i believe the majority, probably overwhelmingly would say things like, “i don’t know,” “to get a good job,” “to make money,” “because my mom made me,” etc.  i hear people honestly say they are in college because it is what their parents want.  these are adults, mind you.  now, i understand familial and societal pressure is no joke.  it can make people live their whole lives insincerely.

i used to hang out with this girl in my English class last semester.  it was freshman english, so everyone else in my class was 18, including her.  she’s insanely smart.  very warm-hearted.  i’m sure she could be anything.  she told me she already hates her major, in her second semester of college.  i told her she should change it!  shoot, i’m on my 6th major.  but look at me, at least i’m happy!  she said she didn’t see the point since she doesn’t know what to change it to.  so i asked her to imagine with me.  i said, alright, well, what do you love?  if you could do anything what would it be?  she didn’t know.  i asked a beautiful, intelligent, successful 18 year old what she loved, and she just looked at me blankly.  it broke my heart.

what are our schools doing?  who are they creating?  it seems to me we’re are simply churning out workers.  people go to college not to learn, but to get a degree, a piece of paper, to ensure that they make more money at a job.  think about it.  how could our world be different if people did what they love?  if we had a society that allowed each of us to figure out what that is!  imagine if we were encouraged to follow our hearts.  if we were taught to learn because it made us better people.  imagine if we stopped putting education on a pedestal.  a pedestal only meant for certain people.  imagine if we had education that taught people not just to think, but to be better at whatever they love, at whatever they want to do…thinking or not.  imagine if our schools taught us how to better versions of ourselves.  Du Bois says schools should not just make workers and thinkers, but they should make men.  now, that was in 1903.  today, i would say, schools should make humans.  when i say that, i mean people in touch with humanity.  we are a lost people.  our society creates masses of workers out of touch with themselves and calls that process education.  that is not education.  that is the crushing of our humanity, of our Self, of our Soul.

it has to change.  we have to change it.  our people, ourselves, we need to change.  do you see it?  take a minute.  really, close your eyes.  just picture it…imagine our current reality.  let yourself go there.  feel it.  it hurts.  our people, our country is hurting.  we are out of touch with our needs, with the needs of our communities.  we have lost our connection to our land and to our people.  it’s time to change.  to evolve.  to rediscover what is right, and good, and real.  it is a long process that begins with one simple decision.  to be a part of the solution.  it’s just a choice.

what do you choose?

i have had several events this week that have left me feeling like the odd person out.  it’s a space i often occupy.  but each situation holds its own distinct lesson.  weaving them all together to bring clarity into my life (and this blog) is the difficult part.

the other day i was having a conversation with my dear friend.  we were talking about friendship and what we want and need from our friends.  i’m kind of known for having insanely high standards for my friendships, or more accurately, for everything.  myself included.  i spent some time explaining how it may seem like i’m a crazy friendless loner.  but the people i do choose to have in my life mean the world to me.  what outsiders may see as intensity, i see as sincerity.  because i am an intense person.  if i don’t make some kind of impact, i’m probably holding back.  which can mean any number of things: i feel threatened, i don’t trust you, i don’t see how the interaction would be productive, etc.  this way of interacting with the world asks a great deal of me and the people in my life.  but in return, i have the most fulfilling relationships with everyone i interact with.  and, i think that’s pretty freakin huge.  i love it.  so i do it.  even though i have to sacrifice a lot.  [remember the blog "feeling the world"?  same deal.]

so after explaining all of this, my wonderful friend looked me dead in the eye and asked very seriously, “how long have you been this way?”  it made a laugh.  not very long.  long enough.  you know, any amount of time is a gift, and i’m grateful i’ve started.  but something that struck me was that i am definitely in the minority.  i told her a story about how i made the conscious decision to lie last week.  i did it mostly because i knew it made the person i was lying to feel better about the situation.  it was a very small lie.  it involved the explanation of one of my many facial expressions.  the woman i lied to had already decided what my “look” had meant.  so i just let her believe it.  cause it didn’t really matter and didn’t hurt anyone.  it did misrepresent me, but in such a minuscule way…i just let it slide.  and as i told my friend, this was the first time i have consciously lied in a very long time.  in fact, i can’t remember the last time.  i’m guessing a few months, but possibly longer.  i am much more likely to bite my tongue than to lie.  because it goes against who i like to be.  but i think most people lie pretty regularly.  at least on a small, “white lie” basis.  the way i interact with the world, while wholly gratifying, can feel somewhat isolating.  i feel like i’m on the outside of so many different worlds in almost every interaction i have.  it’s a very odd space to occupy.

here’s another story:  in my Intellectual Heritage/Mosaic I (yes, they really call it that) class, we had a very heated debate.  the topic started out with the Phillies, the Philadelphia major league baseball team.  i made some comment about how i thought it was ridiculous that the city spent so much money on this baseball team when it can’t even afford to keep its libraries open.  and BAM!  we were off.  this, of course, began a conversation about capitalism.  at one point, one of my classmates looked at me and said with disdain, “if you don’t like it, why don’t you go somewhere else?!”  is he joking?  go where?  to the magical part of the world where everyone is nice and resources are distributed equally and people are free.  oh right, that place doesn’t exist!  and even if it did, should i abandon my country, the place that i was born and raised and love, because i think america can be improved?  i should hope not.  this country is the great nation it is today because people have dared to make it that way.  we have come a long way.  and we have a hell of a long way to go.  i love my country enough to want to change it.  make it better.  help free, feed, shelter, and care for my country’s people.  i think we should want more people like that in our country.  not less.

later in this discussion, another one of my classmates voiced her opinions about WEB Du Bois.  in class, we’re reading Souls of Black Folk– a powerful and beautiful book.  she had the gall to call Du Bois a racist assimilationist who didn’t do enough for black people.  and i swear, i practically had to pick my jaw up off the floor.  i was just astonished that anyone would make such accusations.  so, i did what i always do.  i went to bat.  i said everything i could.  i wish that i could have been calmer.  but i was heated.  i was truly heated.  after so clearly being 1 against many in the capitalism conversation, i went straight into being that white girl who “plays the race card”.  i’ll be honest it was an exhausting class.

i am in school because i love it.  knowledge feeds my spirit.  it fills me up.  and i realize how great a gift it is for me to be in school.  so, in all of my classes, i give it my all.  i openly discuss my beliefs and opinions about things.  especially about race.  this is both a gift and a curse.  i think that some of my white classmates feel like i’m on the wrong side.  i see them look differently at me.  i think they see me as a race traitor.  but then, when i leave my classes and just walk around– no one knows my beliefs.  all kinds of people make all kinds of assumptions about me (to be fair, i do the same to them).  i think that is a perfect example of white privilege.  my beliefs are inside me.  no one can tell just by looking at me that i am anti-racist.

it leaves me feeling out of place with my white peers.  and also out of place with my peers of color.  it’s a whole other story off campus.  i live in west philadelphia, just beyond “Univeristy City” (a marketing ploy to sell gentrification and make rich white parents feel better about sending their children off to west philly in the blocks surrounding UPENN).  i live just one block away from 52nd street, a predominately black business street.  i love my neighborhood.  it is beautiful, the people are amazing, and i wouldn’t want to live anywhere else in the city.  i laugh when people ask if i feel safe here.  yes.  i feel safe here.  this is my home.  i feel safer here than i do in my predominately white upper middle class neighborhood back in michigan.

today for lunch, i went across the street up to 52nd to grab some food.  it was lunchtime, and the corner store was packed.  i was the only white person in the whole store.  some of the men getting lunch looked at me like, who is this white girl?  you know, i wonder the same thing sometimes.  it made me wish there was some kind of secret handshake or codeword that i could work to earn so that i could somehow prove that i’m not a crappy white person.  but i suppose that would be too easy.  i’ve just got to stick around, say hello, prove myself everyday.

this life isn’t easy.  most of the time i feel alone, out of place, isolated.  but amazingly, at the same time i am the happiest i’ve ever been.  and i know i am doing exactly what i’m meant to do.  i wish i had a word to explain it.  a way to make myself make sense.  but i have always walked on the outside, in-between, and where it is forbidden.  it’s who i am.  and i am proud of that.

care for a video blog as well?  check it out…

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i think, dear readers, it may be time for a confession.  when i’m not doing homework, or studying, or reading, or thinking, or writing, or blogging, i’m spending inordinate (by which i mean insanely excessive) amounts of time watching television.  no really.  it would probably disgust both of us if i fessed up to the actual amount.  let’s just say i’m basically in a relationship with hulu (http://www.hulu.com/).  not only that, i own all seven seasons of Gilmore Girls which i have watched so many times, i’ve now lost count.  and if that wasn’t enough, my amazing mother burns DVDs of the shows i can’t find on hulu and mails them to me regularly.  that’s right folks, i am a 25 yr old tv junkie.  i like to think that this balances out of the amount of time and energy i spend being a huge nerd and maybe makes me somewhat “normal” again.  heh, i guess i’m a lost cause.

anyway, the other day i was detoxing from midterms by dulling my brain with reality television.  i was watching America’s Next Top Model, and they were doing their Covergirl challenge (ugh, i feel like a walking advertisement right now, gross).  Basically, the girls had to write and deliver a commercial.  because it’s not good enough to be just a model, if you want to be a Top Model, you have to be versatile.  when they had their challenge, which is supposed to help the girls prep for the photo shoot/commercial/runway/what have you, one of the contestants was really nervous because she had to read a teleprompter.  she calls herself “severely dyslexic”.  when she described what this meant, she said black and white print looks like it’s moving.  not only that, but she writes her letters upside-down and backwards.  all of her life people have told her she’s stupid because she has such a hard time reading.  she said she’s even had teachers tell her she’s stupid and not worth teaching.  boy, that pissed me off.

and it also got me thinking.  i want to be a teacher someday.  and i know how incredibly difficult it will be to comply to departmental requirements while also trying to inspire folks and help find a way for them to be personally invested in whatever class i hope to be blessed enough to teach in the future.  but, right now, i’ve taken on this project.  this blog is my way of connecting all of the things i learn in school to all of the things that i learn in life.  and i hope that it sparks something in you.  i want this to be a conversation.  i want to know what is important to you.  if you’re thinking about the same things.  what you think about the things i have to say.  and how can that be achieved if i only offer one option?

clearly, it can’t.  so i’ve decided to expand leesimply.com to include video!  this way, if the girl from America’s Next Top Model wants to partake in my blog, she can!  it also means all of you who may be dyslexic, ADD, too busy, or if you just like to multi-task…you can still get in on the conversation.  i’m invested in this endeavor.  i love to learn and education is present in my every movement.  there is no hierarchy.  for me, learning and teaching are cyclical.  one cannot happen without the other.  whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.  i believe that change begins with oneself.  i’m working my hardest to make myself the best i can possibly be.  and i like to share that with you.  i think if we can keep this going, we may just be unstoppable.  which is good, because there’s a lot of work to do.

now, there’s just one more option.  pretty cool, huh?

you can be my friend and/or subscribe to my page by clicking http://www.youtube.com/user/leesimplydotcom

p.s. sorry i’m so awkward.  i hope it gets easier as i keep doing it.  =)

i used to walk through my world defensive: walls up, proverbial fists raised, ready to react to any potential threat.  i am a successful survivor.  i am incredibly skilled at faking it.  hand me a difficult situation, and i promise you’ll never know it if i don’t want you to.  my life has given me the gift of these skills.  and i am grateful for them.  but, i can attest that successful survival does not lead to happiness.  it is coping.  and only that.  coping saves lives.  but it is a partial existence.  i made a conscious decision to stop coping and start living my life a year and a half ago.  and so far i know this: that is not enough time to have it all figured out.

defensiveness dulled my senses.  i knew how to fake it, fight, flee, and fall apart.  i’m sure the folks reading this who know me can attest to this truth.  re-introducing myself to the world has been no easy feat.  it means that i have to make some sacrifices.  i’m no longer good at doing things half way.  i don’t bs people.  i don’t bs myself.  i say what I mean, i express what i feel, and i do what i can.  i can’t just flip on my survival skills when things get hard.  and flip it back when things ease up.  i’m in this project for the long haul.  when you begin to let yourself feel, there is no eject button to push when it gets hard.  you either do it, or you don’t.  so, i do it.

as a result, i am the happiest i have ever been in my life.  now, maybe you think it’s crazy that it’s taken me so long.  but, tell me, how many people do you know who are honestly happy?  i only know a few.  including myself.  of course, i still have plenty of work to do.  but, i think i made the right choice.

by allowing myself to inhabit the world completely, i am able to experience a brilliant spectrum of emotions.  eighty-five percent of the time, i am filled with joy and love and am so thankful for every second i get to spend on this precious earth.  the other fifteen percent can be a little harder.  i am more sensitive (and this is saying something!) than before.  when i’m upset, i am really upset.  when i am afraid, i am very afraid.  when i am hurt, it really hurts.  the dullness has been replaced with sharp sometimes jagged emotions.

i laugh with all of my self.  i smile from my spirit.  i love in a way i have never experienced before.  all of this sounds great, i’m sure.  but, i also jump at loud sounds.  i have a hard time being polite when people are rude.  i cry when i am upset or sad or frustrated.  what has taken great strength for me to achieve probably looks like weakness most of the time.  and, i accept that.

for example, yesterday, during an exam, i started crying.  no joke.  me, in class, exam in hand, crying.  not a pretty picture.  it was one of the few times i wished i could switch my new emotional world off.  mostly because it was embarrassing.  i was upset, frustrated, and really disappointed.

school is what i do.  i love to learn.  i live for it.  knowledge feeds my spirit.  i’ve worked very hard to be back at school.  i am walking a very fine line financially to be here.  my greatest fear is that i won’t be able to continue to afford to stay enrolled.  i know how it feels to drop out; i never want to experience that again.  i’ll be honest, the fear is sometimes paralyzing.

i remember all too vividly how it feels to be empty.  to simply survive everyday.  to be broke and broken.  to go without food.  without heat.  without health care.  to live without passion.  without purpose.  believe me, i realize how incredibly blessed i am right now.  to be doing what i love.  to have access to so many things that i need and want.  but i’m smart enough to not get too comfortable.  so, when one of my classmates asked me, “what’s wrong?”  all i could say was, “i have to get an A on this test.”  i realize that probably sounded shallow and silly.  but there is always a story.

my life is a work in progress.  i have taken a great risk by allowing myself to be happy.  i have taken control by letting it go.  it takes great strength to allow yourself weakness.  to confront one’s demons and demand autonomy is scary and breathtaking and brilliant.  to feel the world is a remarkable gift.  and a challenge worth accepting.

for the first time in seven years, i have no piercings in my face.  actually, i have no piercings at all.  but the face is most important cause they’re easiest to notice.  at 18, i got my first lip ring.  at 21, i got my septum pierced (you know, like a bull).  soon after, i took out the first lip ring, which had been in the center, and replaced it with a double side lip piercing.  so i had 3 piercings: 2 in my lip and 1 in my nose.  my face looked that way until yesterday when i decided to take them all out.  i mean shoot, four years is a long time to have a piercing.  i definitely got my money’s worth.  but it goes deeper than that.

the other day, i had a kid approach me.  a white boy, about 18– one of the many canvassers working at Temple’s campus.  i feel for them.  it’s a rough job, and on a rainy day it’s got to be real hard to get college students to give you money.  but i don’t have any money to give, so as soon as he looked my way, i asked what i always ask: signatures or money?  he laughed and said, “both.”  i told him i was sorry and went to turn away when he said, “it’s okay, you look like you’re pretty interesting to talk to.”  now, for those of you who don’t know me, i have a decent sized ego.  i think i’m pretty awesome.  and i know i’m interesting to talk to.  so, i thought, cool- let’s rap.  and the first thing he says to me is, “is that a spider bite?”  i must have looked at him like he’d sprouted another head cause he laughed awkwardly and somewhat desperately explained, “you know, your piercing.”  now, i don’t lie much these days, and i’m particularly bad at controlling my facial expressions.  so i can only imagine the look of confusion mixed with irritation that must have come over me when i thought, that’s what he wants to talk about?  is he serious?  i hoped it was just a segue (i totally thought that word was spelled “segway”).  but after a couple of minutes i got bored.  and he realized i had no interest in or idea what my or his piercings were called.  we split ways.  that was 3 days ago.  and clearly, it’s still bugging me.

i got my first piercing all those years ago to set myself apart.  it was a time in my life when that was a very big part of my identity.  i was different.  i knew it, and i wanted everyone else to as well.  [i want to note, i also got tattooed.  but my tattoos then and still are about personal healing- not about being different.]  since then, my piercings have become more about aesthetic then about some kind of personal and/or cultural statement.  or so i thought.

i mean, they obviously meant something to me.  i paid people to put holes in my face.  i wore those piercings every day for seven years.  i got good jobs despite them.  and i fought to keep them in after hiring.  i even risked personal injury to keep wearing them.  last year, i worked at a residential treatment facility for adolescent girls with co-occurring mental health and substance abuse issues.  it was often, sadly, a physical job.  i easily could have had them torn from my face.  but in the midst of pressure from my superiors and personal harm, i kept them in.  so their meaning must have been more than aesthetic.

i never wanted to take my piercings out for anyone but myself.  and 3 days ago i realized, i didn’t get piercings for me.  i got them for you.  for all of you.  to prove something– that i was different.  that i could wear my otherness on the outside as some sort of mirror for my soul.  clearly, i am different, piercings or not.  even with “normal” hair (which i rarely have) and tattoos covered, i believe my fundamental otherness radiates through my spirit.

all of this got me thinking about culture and rebellion.  the reason i got piercings was to say, i am not like you.  and the whole time i had them, i was telling myself– i look like this because i want to.  but that wasn’t true at all.  if every person had facial piercings, i would have wanted to take mine out.  to rebel; to be different.  and now, i’m curious, how was that productive?  all that time i spent defining myself in the negative.  i am not like you.  i never said, i am like me.

the truth is, i can be like me and be like you, even if we’re different.  the inclination to oppose is a culturally enforced concept.  at 18, i had not fostered my sense of Self.  and my culture (white eurocentric culture) taught me i could be this or that.  one or the other.  us or them.  as soon as i realized i was different, i became “them”.  and the only way i could understand this was to be not like “us”.  so, that’s how i defined myself– “not you”. and that is the heart of rebellion.

there has to be a better way to get here– to this point that i am at right now.  the place where i can say “i am who i am.”  and i don’t have to oppose anyone to be me.  some people say that rebellion is a necessary stage of (r)evolution.  but i don’t know if i agree.  yes, i rebelled.  and yes, i am now beyond it.  but rebellion didn’t get me here.  i don’t think it got me anything.  i was simply angry; full of rage.  and i directed it at everyone who i felt directed theirs at me.

i see this tactic play out every single day.  all around me, people are full of rage; they are rebelling.  i think it’s cathartic, but i don’t think it’s productive.  it creates a never ending cycle of reaction. as the great Chicana radical queer feminist Gloria Anzaldúa writes in her book Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza, “A counterstance locks one into a duel of oppressor and oppressed; locked in mortal combat, like the cop and the criminal, both are reduced to a common denominator of violence” (100).  action, instead of reaction is key.

i am who i am today not because i rebelled.  but because i attempt to open myself to see the truth in the world– beautiful and ugly.  i try to work to change the ugly and to always cherish the beautiful.  i challenge myself to step outside the dichotomy of us and them.  and to imagine a world where we can all define ourselves in the positive.  and i think i’m going to try it without piercings in my face.

okay, i posted this letter to facebook in september.  i got some really interesting (mostly positive) feedback.  i’m starting to think about it as the beginning of a greater social project.  i haven’t figured out exactly where i want to go with it.  but, here’s the original letter to mull over…

9/15/2009

First of all, let me say that this is not for a moment meant as an excuse for any white person who has purposefully harmed any person of color. This is meant as a metaphoric Pandora’s box. I want to begin discussing reality and truth with my white peers who wish to start critically evaluating the people we are as well as the people we want to be. Because it is only then that we can begin to imagine a new and better world. This is, of course, also for my peers of color who are interested in this conversation. I look forward to all of your thoughtful and brilliant words. If you wish to share this, I am honored. Please do so in its entirety.
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