what does "from" mean?
The last few hours have been extremely introspective for me. I'm suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of directionlessness (and a lack of wordification skills). What am I doing with my life?
I truly truly miss math right now, but not nearly as much as I feel I should if it were to be my career, my passion. Funny thing is I miss music even more. It seems the closer I get to it, the further away it seems. The more I learn about it, the more vast it seems. Did you know that it takes only one good song for an entire day to seem just perfect? Songs can bring me to tears in less than 3 minutes, while a movie or book or play take an hour to do so. God, do I love it. It's so powerful, so scary, so wonderful, and it's everything to me. Sankofa. Return to your roots. Or, "go back and take." There is no shame in going back and fixing a mistake. I don't know why, but this Ghanian symbol/phrase really resonates with me right now.
Not only do I feel lost and not know where I am going, but I suddenly don't know where I'm from. In Twi class today, our teacher said something about us being from America. And something inside of me became enraged. I know I can't really claim Hong Kong because I don't speak my mother tongue anymore. I only lived there three years before moving to the States. The U.S. is the cradle of my mind. And yet that doesn't seem right. Where am I from? What does "from" mean? I feel like my family is where I'm from. The Baha'i Faith is where I'm from.
There's this ad slogan used for some phone company that says, "It ain't where you from - Where you at?" Ok, it's perhaps the worst English sentance ever, but it strikes me. We've been learning how important roots are here in Ghana. Or how the Arabs of the Jahiliyyah period were worthless unless they knew their ancestors at least 4 generations back. So many conflicting ideas.
Then there's the whole tension here now between CIEE students, the black americans and the white. Many of the black americans came not only to study, but to find their roots, and there has been this rumor going around that one said to a white american, "Why did you come here?" in a tone that implied it was not her place. Though I doubt it was as harsh as such, it has driven me to think. At the slave castles I felt that if I had cried some would have viewed me as.... well, I don't know. It's just that if a black american cried, everyone's heart would leap to them, but if a white american did, it would not be the same feeling. Just the fact that that thought entered my head enraged me. No one actually said those things. Perhaps I was even the only one to think them, but here's why it makes me mad: it proves that race is still a huge issue in America. See, Ghanians don't see race. We are "Oburuni," or foreigners. Both the blacks and the whites. I would love to think I don't see race. I grew up in a mostly black neighborhood, went to mostly black elementary and middle schools and a very mixed high school. I was on an all black cheerleading squad. I've come all the way to Ghana, made as good of friends with the whites as with the blacks, and yet I see race and feel it is a problem. It still stings every muscle. It is always on my mind. Where are they from? Where am I from? And they is both the white americans and the blacks.
And I wonder... do people here see me as white? Asian? Latina even? How do the CIEE kids see me? Ghanians? Even people at home?
I guess first and foremost they should see me as a Baha'i. Scary. I just need to keep on praying that God will make me worthy of that name.
I guess I do kind of know my roots. My grandmother was a geneologist. I know some history on that side. My mom's family is from Southern China... though a lot of that is fuzzy to me because our family got split up in the war.
So many conflicting views! Do your roots matter or do they not? Are your roots your ancestors or the people who spiritually paved the way for you? Jesus said that those who believe in Him were more His famliy that those related to Him by blood. Are the Dawnbreakers in Iran my ancestors? Is it all of the above? How much does my present play into this?
One thing that comforts me is seeing my drum sticks jutting out of my purse. They're sanded tree branches that have bends and imperfections to them. They're real. They're strong. I can hear these West African rhythms in my head. It's going to take a lot of work to make my life actually be worth something. I'm going to do what I love. It's funny how people are scared to follow what they love. Isn't it more worthwhile to risk achieving your goal then not trying at all?
On a different note, the love from all my friends at home almost made me cry in the internet cafe today. Ya'll are wonderful. I'm not homesick, but I do miss having that group of people surrounding me that knows me better than I know me. Keep loving me from over there ya'll.
I truly truly miss math right now, but not nearly as much as I feel I should if it were to be my career, my passion. Funny thing is I miss music even more. It seems the closer I get to it, the further away it seems. The more I learn about it, the more vast it seems. Did you know that it takes only one good song for an entire day to seem just perfect? Songs can bring me to tears in less than 3 minutes, while a movie or book or play take an hour to do so. God, do I love it. It's so powerful, so scary, so wonderful, and it's everything to me. Sankofa. Return to your roots. Or, "go back and take." There is no shame in going back and fixing a mistake. I don't know why, but this Ghanian symbol/phrase really resonates with me right now.
Not only do I feel lost and not know where I am going, but I suddenly don't know where I'm from. In Twi class today, our teacher said something about us being from America. And something inside of me became enraged. I know I can't really claim Hong Kong because I don't speak my mother tongue anymore. I only lived there three years before moving to the States. The U.S. is the cradle of my mind. And yet that doesn't seem right. Where am I from? What does "from" mean? I feel like my family is where I'm from. The Baha'i Faith is where I'm from.
There's this ad slogan used for some phone company that says, "It ain't where you from - Where you at?" Ok, it's perhaps the worst English sentance ever, but it strikes me. We've been learning how important roots are here in Ghana. Or how the Arabs of the Jahiliyyah period were worthless unless they knew their ancestors at least 4 generations back. So many conflicting ideas.
Then there's the whole tension here now between CIEE students, the black americans and the white. Many of the black americans came not only to study, but to find their roots, and there has been this rumor going around that one said to a white american, "Why did you come here?" in a tone that implied it was not her place. Though I doubt it was as harsh as such, it has driven me to think. At the slave castles I felt that if I had cried some would have viewed me as.... well, I don't know. It's just that if a black american cried, everyone's heart would leap to them, but if a white american did, it would not be the same feeling. Just the fact that that thought entered my head enraged me. No one actually said those things. Perhaps I was even the only one to think them, but here's why it makes me mad: it proves that race is still a huge issue in America. See, Ghanians don't see race. We are "Oburuni," or foreigners. Both the blacks and the whites. I would love to think I don't see race. I grew up in a mostly black neighborhood, went to mostly black elementary and middle schools and a very mixed high school. I was on an all black cheerleading squad. I've come all the way to Ghana, made as good of friends with the whites as with the blacks, and yet I see race and feel it is a problem. It still stings every muscle. It is always on my mind. Where are they from? Where am I from? And they is both the white americans and the blacks.
And I wonder... do people here see me as white? Asian? Latina even? How do the CIEE kids see me? Ghanians? Even people at home?
I guess first and foremost they should see me as a Baha'i. Scary. I just need to keep on praying that God will make me worthy of that name.
I guess I do kind of know my roots. My grandmother was a geneologist. I know some history on that side. My mom's family is from Southern China... though a lot of that is fuzzy to me because our family got split up in the war.
So many conflicting views! Do your roots matter or do they not? Are your roots your ancestors or the people who spiritually paved the way for you? Jesus said that those who believe in Him were more His famliy that those related to Him by blood. Are the Dawnbreakers in Iran my ancestors? Is it all of the above? How much does my present play into this?
One thing that comforts me is seeing my drum sticks jutting out of my purse. They're sanded tree branches that have bends and imperfections to them. They're real. They're strong. I can hear these West African rhythms in my head. It's going to take a lot of work to make my life actually be worth something. I'm going to do what I love. It's funny how people are scared to follow what they love. Isn't it more worthwhile to risk achieving your goal then not trying at all?
On a different note, the love from all my friends at home almost made me cry in the internet cafe today. Ya'll are wonderful. I'm not homesick, but I do miss having that group of people surrounding me that knows me better than I know me. Keep loving me from over there ya'll.