Laughter, touchy-feeliness, being alone
Laughter, touchy-feeliness, being alone
Saturday, 23 February 2008
[0049.0134..0138]
Tonight I saw Dat Phan perform. The Vietnamese Student Association and Pi Delta Psi, the Asian/Asian-interest fraternity, brought him to campus as part of Asian American Heritage Week.
It was a great show! Lots of laughter. He seems really personable and down to earth. I think it was his candor in the Q&A section at the end that made him feel the most "real," relate-able. I wish everyone could have come. It was an hour and a half well spent.
The theme of this semester for me seems to be getting back in touch with myself. So much of what I'm doing right now is a throwback to my earlier years at BLS--grades 8-10 or so. Much of the AAC Fellows program involves talking about ourselves. Our stories, our beliefs, our values, our family histories, our experiences, our communities, our identities. Sometimes I feel like I don't have time for all of this touchy-feeliness, and every time I feel that way I also feel a little twinge. I'm not who I used to be. I used to love music, reading, writing, thinking about life. There was a time when I sang constantly and wrote prolifically, when I thought these things would always be constants in my life. And sometime around 10th grade, I felt that what I had to say was said, that my story wasn't unique, that I had nothing new or valuable to add. So I stopped writing. Lines came to me less frequently, and sometimes when they came I didn't write them down. Until they stopped coming altogether. And as for singing, I got sick at one point and I was never the same. I don't know if I suddenly realized the limitations of my ability or if my voice actually changed, but the high notes became so hard to hit and I couldn't jibe with being an alto and where was choir going to take me anyway. Sometimes I think about what might have been if there had been more encouragement/validation in these areas.
For me life became about just making it. Getting through high school, surviving the tumult at home, getting into college, trying to keep my head above water with all this baggage on my back and not a lot of help. It was hard, and, looking at it like this, I feel for my past self. But when life is at such a level there just isn't time for thinking about, much less taking care of, the inner self. Going through these actions again makes me realize how far I am from who I used to be. I feel like a lot of time has passed. I feel a little like I've been operating at a subsistence level for a long time.
I don't know how, or if, I'll sustain this kind of self-examination and interpersonal connection. The reality is that I have to hustle to take care of myself, and a certain bottom-line mindset is necessary. But my reactions are clear indication that connection means something to me. Being able to relate to other people, to hear their stories, to ask them questions about their lives and to think about how we're linked--this is something I value, have always valued. I realize how much I've been alone in my life, back then and now.
Saturday, 23 February 2008
[0049.0134..0138]
Tonight I saw Dat Phan perform. The Vietnamese Student Association and Pi Delta Psi, the Asian/Asian-interest fraternity, brought him to campus as part of Asian American Heritage Week.
It was a great show! Lots of laughter. He seems really personable and down to earth. I think it was his candor in the Q&A section at the end that made him feel the most "real," relate-able. I wish everyone could have come. It was an hour and a half well spent.
The theme of this semester for me seems to be getting back in touch with myself. So much of what I'm doing right now is a throwback to my earlier years at BLS--grades 8-10 or so. Much of the AAC Fellows program involves talking about ourselves. Our stories, our beliefs, our values, our family histories, our experiences, our communities, our identities. Sometimes I feel like I don't have time for all of this touchy-feeliness, and every time I feel that way I also feel a little twinge. I'm not who I used to be. I used to love music, reading, writing, thinking about life. There was a time when I sang constantly and wrote prolifically, when I thought these things would always be constants in my life. And sometime around 10th grade, I felt that what I had to say was said, that my story wasn't unique, that I had nothing new or valuable to add. So I stopped writing. Lines came to me less frequently, and sometimes when they came I didn't write them down. Until they stopped coming altogether. And as for singing, I got sick at one point and I was never the same. I don't know if I suddenly realized the limitations of my ability or if my voice actually changed, but the high notes became so hard to hit and I couldn't jibe with being an alto and where was choir going to take me anyway. Sometimes I think about what might have been if there had been more encouragement/validation in these areas.
For me life became about just making it. Getting through high school, surviving the tumult at home, getting into college, trying to keep my head above water with all this baggage on my back and not a lot of help. It was hard, and, looking at it like this, I feel for my past self. But when life is at such a level there just isn't time for thinking about, much less taking care of, the inner self. Going through these actions again makes me realize how far I am from who I used to be. I feel like a lot of time has passed. I feel a little like I've been operating at a subsistence level for a long time.
I don't know how, or if, I'll sustain this kind of self-examination and interpersonal connection. The reality is that I have to hustle to take care of myself, and a certain bottom-line mindset is necessary. But my reactions are clear indication that connection means something to me. Being able to relate to other people, to hear their stories, to ask them questions about their lives and to think about how we're linked--this is something I value, have always valued. I realize how much I've been alone in my life, back then and now.