Being a black girl at my high school was a very strange experience for many different reasons. For the first couple of years I barely had any other black friends and therefore spent most of my time feeling like I couldn’t express my blackness. The remainder of my time there was weird in a different kind of way. I no longer felt out-of-place expressing my blackness, but I couldn’t stand up to those that disrespected it. Either way I felt like I was compromising on something too important to just give up on.
Because the universe is so expansive and our minds are so vast, we’ve found a multitude of ways to express the ever changing range of emotions that is every human being.
I’ve found that sometimes writing a long essay to express something doesn’t always work for me, that maybe a short poem or a Haiku is a better way to articulate my feelings. I’ve never been able to sing, but certain musicians have the ability to relay my feelings into song in a way I’d never be able to. And that’s a real tragedy, because I think I’d make an excellent song writer.
But there are people who can pick up a variety of tools to express their feelings. Actors who can also paint. Singers who write poetry ( which is basically song writing depending on the artist). Dancers who double as photographers. And so on and so forth.
My point is, intersections exist and should be celebrated. Not solely in the arts but in every aspect of life. Creatives should be encouraged to draw upon inspiration from any and everything and transfer their response to whichever medium they find most appropriate.
The world is so large and so diverse; why shouldn’t we allow our minds and our work to be just as interesting.
I’ve been away for a while. A long while and the time I’ve spent away has been eye-opening. Refreshing even because I was able to sit down and examine myself and understand what was wrong. Whoa, is this what being a sentient being feels like?
Creative careers are not new. We’ve always had artists. Writers and photographers (for the past century or so), play-writes, actors. So on and so forth. Yeah, none of this is new to our society. So why is it that we struggle with accepting people who want to embark on a creative career path?
My body image and self-confidence issues didn’t just appear out of no where. It took years for the insidious thoughts to peak and for me to realize that wow, yeah I hate myself. And it took another few years and a lot of hard work for me to realize that I shouldn’t. Continue reading “Giving up on Self-Hate.”
Being a black girl in today’s world is like being a part of a sisterhood. A secret society of women who prosper together,despite the stereotypes and negative expectations that society places on them.To excel as a black girl in this world is to be a part of something far greater than an individual. It’s being a member of a faction that is constantly growing and glowing, becoming stronger and more educated everyday.
It’s a love of language and poetry and the inexplicable feeling one receives from reading or hearing something remarkable. From creating something remarkable. There are no words that could adequately capture or completely encapsulate the experience I receive once I realize I’ve stumbled across a work of art.
If you’re sensitive to sensitive language, I apologize for my title. However in this situation I chose to be blunt for a reason.
My adult life is slowly creeping up on me. As college applications, requirements and recommendations whiz through my mind i’m slowly starting to get accustomed to the idea of growing up.
There are lots of people in the world now who are approaching the end of their lives. And as mine is just starting to unfold, I’m wondering how many of those people are satisfied with their lives?How many of them feel as if they accomplished everything they wanted to? How many feel like they didn’t do everything they wanted?
Every individual has set goals and/or plans for themselves. Every person has a dream and things they must do in order to feel like they (for lack of a better choice of words) lived life to the fullest. Personally, traveling is the most important thing for me. Right now atleast, because I know that could change but I mean, who doesn’t want to travel the world. Anyway, if I die having spent my entire life in the same place with no experience and no real sense of culture, I’d feel a little disappointed. A lot disappointed. But that’s me, I know there are many people who could care less about travelling.
I also know that there are people who, for whatever reason, feel like having kids is their main priority in life. And I guess once you grow up and get married, that’s the natural order of things. But how do the people who can’t have kids feel when their time has passed and kids are no longer an option.
A part of accepting death is being able to come to terms with your life. Sitting down and really thinking about everything you’ve done. Being happy with everything you’ve done is the most important thing. Feeling satisfied about what you’re leaving behind is what makes life worth it.
Still, the question remains. How would it feel to die knowing you haven’t done everything you wanted to do? I can only hope that I never get the answer.
During the first week of school, my AP Lang teacher gave us our first writing assignment. She wanted us to write about an incident, an event or a series of events that changed our lives. She told us it could be anything, literally any thing that had an impact on our lives. She admitted later that this was just a way for her to see what kind of writers we were so the prompt was something that should have been easy for everyone. So much has happened in my life that I almost laughed when she told us this was the prompt. There was so much for me to choose from but there was only one thing I really wanted to write about.