I found myself unable to sleep last night thinking about the ignorant rant of a co-worker and friend one night at work. A black co-worker who constantly jokes about everything- race, religion, sexual innuendo, or even singing his own made up songs, made a comment about Black History Month. My white co-worker went on a rant about his daddy not being a slave, his grand-daddy not being a slave and his great grand-daddy probably not being a slave. I think she totally missed the point of what Black History Month is about, and why the black community in general feels slanted.
I found myself seriously wanting to give her a history lesson. The reason he was talking about Black History Month and felt the reasons behind it are legit has nothing to do with slavery. Slavery goes back to the persecution of Jews and even indentured servitude in England. The blatant racism that occurred not even 50 years ago and still occurs today is why black people feel so strongly about Black History Month. Did she not learn about civil rights and separate but equal and Jim Crow laws and the fact that as recently as when our grandparents were little black people couldn't go to the same school or use the same restroom or go to the same restaurants. This civil injustice and the hatred throughout the U.S. towards black people is the reason behind Black History Month and feeling a sense of pride as to what has been accomplished through the years. It's not about what happened in the 18 and 19th century, it's about what happened 50-60 years ago in a time our parents and grandparents can remember.
Think about it. The crime and the drug problem isn't a black thing, it's a poverty thing. And why are black people living in poverty? Not very long ago black people couldn't even go to the same schools as white children so do you think they could receive the same education or get the same jobs? Of course not. Breaking away from poverty and making a better life for yourself and your children takes time. If your grandparents couldn't get a job, then they couldn't provide a good education for their children, i.e. your parents, and then your parents couldn't obtain a well paying job, thus the cycle continues. Obviously through time this has changed, but it takes just as much time to get that education and get a good job so that your children can do the same.
Further more, I think my co-worker needs to think about what is feels like to be hated because of who you are. Playing devil's advocate there are plenty of black people who dislike white people just for their color of their skin, also playing into racism. However, think about how hard it must have been in the 1950's and 60's knowing that the majority of the country hated you because of your color and feeling isolated from white people. This disdain and distrust towards white people has carried over and rightfully so. However, in order to make things better and understand each other, let's figure out why black people feel so strongly about Black History Month. It's celebrating the many black historical figures who led the way for equal rights and who stood up for what they believed in, it's about feeling pride that black people have a say and a freedom in this country that wasn't there during our grandparents childhood. It's not about if my co-workers great great grand-daddy was a slave, it's about how his grandparents were judged and how his parents were treated and how even today, people perceive him. Some people just need a history lesson.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
The Story of Cancer
I think we all go through life for the most part being happy. We do our day to day activities and worry about little things that ultimately don't matter. It's not until sickness or disease or death plagues our day that we truly realize what is important. Until three weeks ago my biggest issues were stressing about college and perfecting how to wand my hair-I'm pretty much an expert now. Then, just as something like this does, cancer hit me like a ton of bricks, to the face, with absolutely no warning.
It began with learning of the progression of my friend Anne's cancer. She had been diagnosed with cancer a couple years before and was living with treatments and chemo and to my knowledge, dealing with it in as graceful and amazing a way as possible-which was Anne's style. We went to a friend's birthday over the summer and though she had gotten chemo the day before she seemed alright. Alright, what kind of word is that? It's terrible. No one wants to feel alright. No one wants to look alright. Everything about that word screams negativity and I should have seen it then. She was weak and barely ate at dinner and I just simply thought she was recovering from chemo. We went to a dance bar afterward and we left after a very short period because she was exhausted. I thought to myself, eh, I'm not really feeling this scene anyway, I'm on the same page, let's leave. I was not on the same page at all. In fact, I was reading a very different book. In my book, Anne had graduated from UC and while she was too sick to work, that was chemo's fault and eventually she would start her career and marry her boyfriend and live the life I'd written up in my fairytale. In Anne's book she was progressively getting worse, she found out she had twenty-something tumors in her brain and it wasn't until she was in hospice that I closed my book and started reading hers. I went to visit and went down memory lane and wanted to be a good friend to her at the end. She spent a short time in hospice and she passed last Wednesday. It's strange knowing that we won't laugh together anymore, and she won't tell me weird stories anymore and that that friendship is gone, because someone my age had cancer.
The next unfortunate event happened this past week as well. My grandma who is my everything, my co-parent, my second mom, and is only 64 I might add has cancerous tumors on her lungs. These chordoma tumors can't be removed or radiated or taken care of. The doctors are giving my grandma a pill, which may shrink them and prolong them from getting worse. They also informed her that if they don't work, she will cough up blood and wouldn't tell her what would happen next-though I think she knows. So we spent this past Monday at the casino; eating, gambling and laughing and all I could think that whole time is that I hope I have plenty more time to do this with her. I hope with her, we are reading the same book and that she plans to grow old and see my children and always be there for me. It may sound selfish, but there is always that one person who is always there, always in your corner and always the person you want to have, and for me that's her.
It began with learning of the progression of my friend Anne's cancer. She had been diagnosed with cancer a couple years before and was living with treatments and chemo and to my knowledge, dealing with it in as graceful and amazing a way as possible-which was Anne's style. We went to a friend's birthday over the summer and though she had gotten chemo the day before she seemed alright. Alright, what kind of word is that? It's terrible. No one wants to feel alright. No one wants to look alright. Everything about that word screams negativity and I should have seen it then. She was weak and barely ate at dinner and I just simply thought she was recovering from chemo. We went to a dance bar afterward and we left after a very short period because she was exhausted. I thought to myself, eh, I'm not really feeling this scene anyway, I'm on the same page, let's leave. I was not on the same page at all. In fact, I was reading a very different book. In my book, Anne had graduated from UC and while she was too sick to work, that was chemo's fault and eventually she would start her career and marry her boyfriend and live the life I'd written up in my fairytale. In Anne's book she was progressively getting worse, she found out she had twenty-something tumors in her brain and it wasn't until she was in hospice that I closed my book and started reading hers. I went to visit and went down memory lane and wanted to be a good friend to her at the end. She spent a short time in hospice and she passed last Wednesday. It's strange knowing that we won't laugh together anymore, and she won't tell me weird stories anymore and that that friendship is gone, because someone my age had cancer.
The next unfortunate event happened this past week as well. My grandma who is my everything, my co-parent, my second mom, and is only 64 I might add has cancerous tumors on her lungs. These chordoma tumors can't be removed or radiated or taken care of. The doctors are giving my grandma a pill, which may shrink them and prolong them from getting worse. They also informed her that if they don't work, she will cough up blood and wouldn't tell her what would happen next-though I think she knows. So we spent this past Monday at the casino; eating, gambling and laughing and all I could think that whole time is that I hope I have plenty more time to do this with her. I hope with her, we are reading the same book and that she plans to grow old and see my children and always be there for me. It may sound selfish, but there is always that one person who is always there, always in your corner and always the person you want to have, and for me that's her.
Becoming A Guy
In the past six months I've become a guy. Obviously, not in a physical sense, but in an emotional way. I think my transformation of having the mentality of a dude started with completely being fed up with the actions of the opposite sex. I realized that if men don't seem to care as much as women, then why are we putting forth so much time and energy and exhausting ourselves for them? My whole life it seemed that when guys did something stupid or didn't call or whatever, we as women would automatically make an excuse. Time and time again I've heard my friends and family say things like, "Oh, he's a guy, they just don't think," or "he's probably busy," and the best, " guys don't worry about that stuff, it's not a big deal." So I thought to myself, why should I care either?
This mentality may make me sound like a cynic or that I'm repulsed by men, but it's just the opposite. I'm envious of them. I mean how perfect that they can go about daily life not worrying if someone calls or texts or wants to hang out and not really getting upset if they say the wrong thing and the best benefit, not over analyzing and re-hashing every little moment of a relationship or an event like women do. Having this epiphany over the last few months is when I decided to "become a guy." I don't know how I turned off the switch or how to turn it back on, but for right now I don't worry if someone is going to call, I don't worry if I blow off a guy, I don't worry about what a guy I like is doing and I don't care what they think. I'm not sure if this is normal or if I'll snap out of it soon, but it's what is happening right now.
It's liberating not worrying all the time. Yes, I worry, about school and work and my family, but I don't worry about men. If they want to hang out, cool. If they want to text me, great. If they want to like me, awesome, but it doesn't affect my daily life. I did, however, have a solitary moment of being a girl recently while watching a chick flick. I hadn't sat down and watched 'The Holiday" in a while and it was on TV one night, so I decided to enjoy it. This movie is by no means sad, so why was I so lethargic while watching it? I let myself be a vulnerable girl for two hours of that film and then I wiped my tears, set down the rocky road and picked myself up, because this is not how guys act. I let myself revert back to being a girl for a short period, and here I was over analyzing my love life and caring-too much. This is the problem with girls, we care too much.
I think this whole change in life style has been beneficial for right now. I would like to turn it off eventually and maybe it'll even happen soon, but for right now I focus on school, I care for my family, I enjoy my time with friends, and men, are an after thought and not a priority at this point in time.
This mentality may make me sound like a cynic or that I'm repulsed by men, but it's just the opposite. I'm envious of them. I mean how perfect that they can go about daily life not worrying if someone calls or texts or wants to hang out and not really getting upset if they say the wrong thing and the best benefit, not over analyzing and re-hashing every little moment of a relationship or an event like women do. Having this epiphany over the last few months is when I decided to "become a guy." I don't know how I turned off the switch or how to turn it back on, but for right now I don't worry if someone is going to call, I don't worry if I blow off a guy, I don't worry about what a guy I like is doing and I don't care what they think. I'm not sure if this is normal or if I'll snap out of it soon, but it's what is happening right now.
It's liberating not worrying all the time. Yes, I worry, about school and work and my family, but I don't worry about men. If they want to hang out, cool. If they want to text me, great. If they want to like me, awesome, but it doesn't affect my daily life. I did, however, have a solitary moment of being a girl recently while watching a chick flick. I hadn't sat down and watched 'The Holiday" in a while and it was on TV one night, so I decided to enjoy it. This movie is by no means sad, so why was I so lethargic while watching it? I let myself be a vulnerable girl for two hours of that film and then I wiped my tears, set down the rocky road and picked myself up, because this is not how guys act. I let myself revert back to being a girl for a short period, and here I was over analyzing my love life and caring-too much. This is the problem with girls, we care too much.
I think this whole change in life style has been beneficial for right now. I would like to turn it off eventually and maybe it'll even happen soon, but for right now I focus on school, I care for my family, I enjoy my time with friends, and men, are an after thought and not a priority at this point in time.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Moving On
I know for many, college is a place to earn a degree to inevitably make more money; and then when this tedious process is up, they're ready to settle down. They marry the man they met in college, with their bridesmaids standing next to them that they met from [insert whatever sorority] and use that degree to find a well-paying job so they can own a home with said husband. But what about those out there who don't want that adventure and freedom and whimsical dreaming of discovery to end? I could definitely see myself being happy with a home and husband and kids and a "normal" lifestyle. However, wouldn't it be way more exciting to keep dreaming up bigger ideas for yourself and the places you could go.
After college I want to do it all. I want to travel to Europe and trek through the Black Forest and get pissed drunk in a pub in Ireland and fall in love for a week in Paris. This may sound cliche, but its totally do-able. I want to freelance for a magazine and write about my insane life and where the wanderer's road takes me. I want to see movies and attend concerts and read books and write about everything that I experience. I want to become an experienced journalist and learn to do investigative work and be nosy and poke around in others' business, just so I can bring light to situations that need mended and issues that need fixed. I want to take photos and capture everything along the way. Life is beautiful if you choose to live it exponentially free and desire to learn and travel until you're the best version of yourself.
Sometimes we get caught up in the humdrum of everyday life and see our existence as a constant scheduling of the same mundane events. I don't want this for myself. Of course, we all need stability and a home base. However, being conscious of knowing you're meant for a different course and wanting to experience everything you can is important to really accomplish your vision. I met with a professor today who made me feel like I could do anything. He told me that I could find a job anywhere because I'm willing to relocate and to move because there's a career there or move because it's warm and that's what you enjoy. He smiled at me and said, "Just go and be young." And that is exactly what I intend to do.
After college I want to do it all. I want to travel to Europe and trek through the Black Forest and get pissed drunk in a pub in Ireland and fall in love for a week in Paris. This may sound cliche, but its totally do-able. I want to freelance for a magazine and write about my insane life and where the wanderer's road takes me. I want to see movies and attend concerts and read books and write about everything that I experience. I want to become an experienced journalist and learn to do investigative work and be nosy and poke around in others' business, just so I can bring light to situations that need mended and issues that need fixed. I want to take photos and capture everything along the way. Life is beautiful if you choose to live it exponentially free and desire to learn and travel until you're the best version of yourself.
Sometimes we get caught up in the humdrum of everyday life and see our existence as a constant scheduling of the same mundane events. I don't want this for myself. Of course, we all need stability and a home base. However, being conscious of knowing you're meant for a different course and wanting to experience everything you can is important to really accomplish your vision. I met with a professor today who made me feel like I could do anything. He told me that I could find a job anywhere because I'm willing to relocate and to move because there's a career there or move because it's warm and that's what you enjoy. He smiled at me and said, "Just go and be young." And that is exactly what I intend to do.
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