Google me
So I googled myself ( shut up, you know you've done it too). It wasn't the first time but it was the first time in a while. And do you know what's interesting? Every single entry about me on google has to do with the newspaper that I dedicated so much of my life to for three years. What does that say about my identity?
Once I decided that being a part of the mass media, the corporate media, was not for me, I guess a large part of my identity slipped away, just like when I decided that being a famous actress was not for me. It made me feel pretty lost, like if I saw a picture of myself today I wouldn't recognize me.
I do not want it back. I do not want to be that actress, even though I will admit that I still sometimes model in front of the mirror and fancy myself on the cover of a magazine. I did enjoy acting, but what I enjoyed more was the idea that millions of people would accept me and love me, acknowledging and approving of who I was. I wanted that so badly because as a young adult I was so brutally attacked for who I was, what I looked like and what I wanted that it seemed becoming famous would be the perfect revenge. I know I'm not the only person who has felt this way. I know now that wouldn't fulfill me or make me happy. I still haven't found anyone who loves the little fat girl in me, except me. I love her now, but only because she no longer exists. She has been locked away with her mouth taped shut and almost forgotten about. Almost.
And I don't want to be a part of the corporate media either. I don't want to be part of a giant machine that only stands to perpetuate lies and scribble out some purchased version of the truth. I am glad I got the chance to experience that on a small, college-level scale so I would know that it was not what I wanted to dedicate any more chapters of my life to.
But googling myself today did remind me of what I do want. There was one news article that I wrote out of the hundreds that actually made a difference in people's lives, enough that the article was copied and pasted in people's blogs for others to see. That was the one about FAMU Homecoming and the racist reactions from police, student, and the town in general to the occasion. Dozens of people emailed me and thanked me for writing that article, and for the first time I felt like I said something that mattered. Someone wrote on their blog that for the first time the racial divide in Tallahassee had been acknowledged by a white person. I'm sure I wasn't the first to write about it or point it out, but the fact that I drew so much attention to it and got people of both races talking about it mattered. It still matters. But I wrote that article over a year ago and since then I haven't written anything thats made as much of an impact, or any impact. That's what I want and need to do. By this time next year, hopefully sooner, I want to google myself and find that I have challenged more people to think and discuss and maybe even do something to make positive changes.
My identity, my identity, is based solely on my actions and what I do, what I achieve, what I stand for. Nothing and nobody can tear me down or tell me that I am less than I know I am. I choose to speak, I choose to write, I choose to love. I do choose to love, even when it would perhaps be easier to hate. I fucking choose to love, and even when its not returned, it does not take away from the fact that I love. I choose to love, but there really is no other choice. It is what it is. We love who we love. Maybe I should say I choose not to run away from love, even when its hard. I don't know. Anyway, I am going to wash my hair now and go out into the world feeling like I can do whatever the fuck I want and feeling good about it. I refuse to make any more apologies for who I am. I choose to be myself and I choose to like it.