The process of it

"Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep, dreaming about the things that we could be." -OneRepublic

A. Impact
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Writers are interesting.
They judge things and capture things that people think but can't express in every day conversations. I often find that the mind and the physical person are, at least in my case, at odds with one another.
The mind is filled with so many things but how many people live is rather routine-- seems like we're not exercising our brains. The conversations we have are  dull and the words we say are aimed to create comfort and not go too deep.
One of the thousands of reasons why, I guess, I'm quiet.
That, and the unrelenting shyness. 

B. I am working on how to get young children to listen to me.
I am working on saying what I want to say in a manner they can hear, understand, respect, but also feel like they have a stake or a voice in the conversation.
Children are like adults in that they will express what they need to but, other things they need to express but can't, manifests itself in other actions that are hard for me to manuver.
No one can make anyone else do something they won't do.

It is, by far, the most challenging part of teaching. I am getting better but I am not good at it.
The fact that children don't accept bullshit and they make you earn your place in their life.  If anyone could relate to that philosophy, it would be me.

But getting people to listen and to make an impact, while not going outside of myself, just getting people to listen and HEAR, and in return, talk... by their own choosing, organically... that is why I am in this profession as a young woman, that is why this life is chosen for me, and that is why I need to write.
I either don't speak enough or people don't listen and respect enough or both. And it's problematic that I accept that sometimes because I should not. So I'm working to stop accepting. Positive, meaningful, change and relationships aren't created through silence.
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Being me, everything I do takes a little longer. Everything I learn takes a little longer. Every lesson takes longer, every feeling takes a little longer to heal from. Even education and work success is taking longer

I have always had the insecurity that I don't know enough and that I am not smart enough. I've always compensated for that with extra time and extra work. And that insecurity is actually fact, because no one does (know enough) and no one is (nearly smart enough). I could never get into Harvard or be an Architect. What I lack in IQ, I probably make up in perseverance.

I am always amazed every time I learn a new word, and I see how someone pulls off a style of poetry that is unfamiliar. I am amazed at the stage presence people have. I am amazed every time I learn of a new historical figure who has shaped my life in ways I never knew. I am amazed how little I know about world politics.

But beyond that, what I seek is universal. I seek a voice, a stake, a presence, and an ability to make the impact that I want to make. And like everything else, it is taking longer.


Learning
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A friend encouraged me to start reading again earlier this year. It provides a diversion from free time to dwell on the uncontrollable. I've missed reading what people actually think, their passions, what lies beneath their surface. How conniving they are. How imaginary they are.The Junot Diaz's of the world... the cussing, sarcastic intellectual, who at the same time is empathic and here's the kicker... real.

What people show (what others see) versus the 95 percent that they don't know how to, their imaginations, their potential, their judgement, their pain, their hopes, writers confirm that those things are there. Knowing that one is not alone in her journey to pull herself out there. THAT is hope.
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With school, Maine will offer me the ability to be knee deep in writing, reading, and analyzing again. To study my human relationships with children. To study how language makes impact. Of being educated and of sharing what I can with others. I need that distraction and knowledge before I can conceive what place in the world I belong to. It'll also buy me time to replenish-- time to make things better than what they are currently, time to ready myself.
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The scary thing about being a grown-up is not so much the responsibility. The most scary thing about being a grown-up is the idea that one feels complacent with showing the stagnant 5 percent and ignoring the other 95 percent. People meet their civil responsibilities at home and at work, and they forget about reading articles, getting lost in books, trying new things, having challenging conversations, fighting injustice, and studying theories.They forget that even though they are a citizen of the world, they are also an individual who can change it.

I am grateful for the rough patches of "life experience" after college. It helps me see who I am in the world and how or if people see me. But like a lot of 20-somethings, I waste a lot of what I have.
I am robust, healthy, energetic, youthful, beautiful, curious, and yet, I work, I drink occasionally, I have dinners with folks when I feel like I'm being to introverted...

Fear is a part of the process that leads to progress.

My fears are:
-Maine feels desperately small for dreams. What if I get stuck here? What if I don't find a family outside of my family?
-I'm afraid of not finding my place and not finding a community of color that I can be a part of, relate to, and share my struggles and passions with. Being in all white spaces makes me uncomfortable.
-After leaving my hometown after high school, and seeing the hundreds of things there are to see, and getting to travel, and seeing firsthand what having allies feels like, and what impact can be made elsewhere, going back to it creates anxiety.
-I'm also afraid because although it's my journey, I don't want to do it alone-- and for the first time in 4 years, that journey has lost its companion. How will I find another that feels suitable for my heart, my head, my soul?

But every year, the fear lessens a little bit, that is the truth. And incremental steps are taken that may feel small or late, but they add up. I eventually figure my shit out a little more. And I'm a little closer to saying I'm the person I aspire to be, but more importantly, that I'm proud of the woman who is working to get there.

This post is about me. It has ME written all over it. But like all pieces, this is for everyone is going into a new day (a new year), trying to figure their shit out.