"Girl Rising": Born into Privilege

Such inspiration has struck me tonight! It seems like every time I go to an Alternative Spartan Breaks meeting or event, I leave feeling like I am going to CHANGE THE WORLD. Which, well, I am: one issue at a time.

At the meeting tonight we watched a documentary called "Girl Rising" about a few extraordinary girls worldwide who were changing the status quo and taking control of their lives by enrolling in school. The documentary gave some astounding statistics about female education rates throughout the world, and the rate of girls who had no education and had AIDS, died from child birth, or were married off young compared to girls who had the privilege of receiving an education. The facts that were presented were ASTOUNDING, and really made me take a step back and evaluate my own life in comparison to these girls (who were, by the way, usually around 8-13 years old).

I was born into a white, middle-class family in a fairly-stable town in the United States. How much better off can I get? And one thing I realized while watching this video, was that I was really just born lucky. There is no particular reason that I was born to the family I have rather than a poor family in Afghanistan or India who is struggling to survive. Why do I have the things I have? Simply because I was born into the right family, in the right place, at the right time. Now that is something hard to swallow. If you really think about it, this is the case for most of us: we were born privileged. And, sadly, millions, even billions of children around the world are not born privileged like we are. They have to struggle and fight, and often die for the simplest of pleasures: clean water, food, shelter, and an education.

Another thing this documentary really made me analyze was the things I complain about on a day-to-day basis. "I don't know what to do with my life: should I be a writer or a marketer? An engineer or a scientist? A doctor or a social worker?" Take a step back. Think about this. No matter what you do, you will most likely still end up with a job, and an education in something. The question for me and my situation is, what will make me happy? The question for girls across the country is, what will help me survive? What will keep me safe from rape? What will prevent me from having to get married and have children at age 11 (an age where I was still playing with Barbie dolls)?

Lastly, I've realized something. It means a lot to me to go out and find these girls (and boys) with these stories, and to help people who were not born into privilege like I was. It means the world to me to make a difference in the lives of others while I am here, so that when I am gone, it won't matter where someone is born or the color of their skin, or their sex, because everywhere in the world, children will be SURROUNDED by opportunity. People will be surrounded by opportunity. People can be the heroes we read about and idolize from comic books, but we have to get started now if we are going to get anywhere.

There you have it, my inspirational and somewhat-crazy thought of the hour. I'm not going to drop everything I have to take the next ship to Cambodia (if anything, I'm going to continue my education so that I have the resources to help these people, and I act as an example for them), but I am going to seriously evaluate my life choices as I make them. I urge you to do the same. Next time you go to the cafeteria or the grocery store and grow angry when you realize that they don't have your favorite dish, think about those people who would kill for just one bite of your hamburger. Next time you feel down on yourself or sad because you don't have a boyfriend, think of all of those girls who are married at age 11 and have no choice as to who they are going to spend the rest of their life with. Next time you get tired of doing your homework and decide that watching Netflix is more important, think of those girls whose parents can't afford to send them to school and instead send them to work. Reevaluate what really matters: I know I did.

Home

Have you ever travelled back to a place that you went to in your childhood, and had this somewhat heavy feeling of nostalgia hit you right in the chest? Or have you ever seen something that reminded you of distant memories and smiled complacently to yourself?

I was just thinking about the fact that I am going home this upcoming Friday for the Hallmark Christmas Sale (no joke), and how recently, when I go home, this feeling hits me. My hometown is starting to not feel like my everyday place of life anymore: it is beginning to feel like a town filled with my memories. I guess what I mean is, it is still my home and always will be, but in a way, it is not my home anymore. Does that make sense?

It certainly is strange to go back to the place where I spent 18 years of my life not thinking I was ever going to feel like a stranger there. "Stranger" isn't the right word...I think a better term would be "visitor". I am a visitor in my own home. When I drive around the local Meijer's and clothing stores and when I wander downtown, everything feels...different. It feels like I am looking at everything from an outside perspective, rather than the insider's perspective that I had when I lived there. I'm not sure how I feel about this; what does it mean? And if I can't call the place of my birth my "home" anymore, where is my home?

Can I have multiple homes? What is it like for older people who move away from their homes and make new homes for themselves? I would imagine that a part of them always stays in their hometown, but doesn't it make people nervous to move away and start your life completely on your own? I'm not sure that I'm ready for this level of independence, though I keep telling myself that I am. A part of me wishes I could just live at home forever, but obviously this is not a legitimate idea.

So what is it like, to move away and start a life for yourself? And what do you think of as your "true home"?

Why You Are Awesome

"When you try your best, but you don't succeed. When you get what you want, but not what you need. When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep. Stuck in reverse."

"If you never try you'll never know, just what you're worth."

When I was listening to this song ("Fix You" by my favorite band Coldplay) a thought kept running through my head. Often times, I feel like I don't have control over anything: like I am just a part of the dreaded "system." I go through every day like a zombie, doing things because it's just how life is here in the USA. Class. Work. Homework. Sleep. Then wake up and do it all over again. And then I realize that the more I do this, the less and less I feel like I am actually living. And I go to bed wondering, what did I miss today that I should've taken advantage of?

It's actually quite sad to live life this way: like you're "stuck in reverse"...going through the motions...feeling tired, but not because you have done so much to actually make your body tired. You're tired because you haven't done enough.

Potential. There is always so much potential that I feel like I can't reach. I've mentioned this multiple times before: this thought that I am meant for so, so much more than what I am currently doing. I feel like I have mounds of untapped potential, like I can do almost anything, but for some reason, I'm doing very little.

Is it wrong to think this way? Am I just expecting more out of life than I should be? Maybe it is a result of my difficulty with being realistic about my current condition. I don't have a ton of money right now, so of course I'm not going to be traveling the world and going on a bunch of big huge adventures. And it's impossible to meet everyone in the world and make them all my friends. Still...still, there has to be more than what I am experiencing day after day. I've got so many ideas, so many thoughts that flicker in and out of my head day by day that go unrecognized by the public. Then again, this doesn't make me an individual: everyone has brilliant ideas! I think I just tend to notice mine more than the average person.

So, where does this leave me? Feeling boring, unfulfilled, and sad about everything? Nope. Not at all.

I don't believe in going through life thinking that we can't change anything, and that "things are the way they are." Of course things can change! And it doesn't take an army to change them. Think about it, how did things get to the way they are now? Because of innovative, individual thinkers who felt exactly the way I do now, but decided to act on it.

The first step is to understand what Coldplay was saying with the line: "If you never try, you'll never know what you're worth." If you never try, you won't ever know. You have to get up off of your butt and stop complaining, and go out there and show everyone what an awesome person you are. Show people why they should like you, and why you matter. Be the change that you wish to see in the world.

The second step is to understand personally why you are awesome. Let's face it, it will be difficult for you to make any friends or any changes if you don't understand yourself first. To be honest, I find this a difficult step. But I've managed to find things about myself that I love, and so can you! Think: what makes you love yourself? What makes you get up day after day? What makes you smile about the way you are?

Third and final step: GO! Go out and implement the changes that you wish to see. Show people your ideas. Prove to people why you deserve to be recognized. And remember, not everyone is going to listen, or care. Most people don't give a damn. But in the rare cases where we make our best friends, it's because they did care, and they saw what you saw. "If you never try you'll never know, just what you're worth."

"Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you." <3 Better yet, try to fix yourself.

Happy Wanderings

Procrastination Nation

 

You know what I've been noticing lately? People are lazy.

I am sitting at my work, doing some things on the computer, and then I realize that I ran out of things to do a little bit early. So, not wanting to sit around and do nothing while on the clock, I decided to clean my work station. I've always been like this: I feel guilty when I don't do anything and yet I am being paid to work. I thought this was a common part of being a human.

I guess I was wrong, because when I look around at the other students I am working with, half of the time they don't even seen to be doing anything productive...but here's the kicker: they don't even CARE. It's like, they are being paid to work, but they are only working half the time...

Of course, nobody can be "on" all of the time. It's just that, not even caring when you are working whether or not you are doing a good job boggles my mind. How can some people be so irresponsible, apathetic, and underachieving? Am I wrong?

Life Lessons: "Jane"

I would like to dedicate this post to someone very special to me, who has taught me more about life and the power of one person than I could ever learn from anyone else. To protect her privacy, I am going to refer to this person as "Jane".

I met Jane last year, and the first thing that I perceived about her was her openness and acceptance of complete strangers. I had originally thought of this as just a trait: she was an outgoing person. What I didn't understand at the time was the fact that this acceptance and open heart and mind did not come from her being a naturally open person: it came from her attitude to make the best out of her life, even when she had been at her worst. Her love and compassion for everyone came from her own struggles as a child, growing up with a life that would make the majority of us break down, rather than rise to the challenge.

Jane grew up in Detroit, a place where homelessness and drug addiction is not a rare sight. I am certainly not suggesting that all of Detroit is like this, but those of us who are from Michigan know that certain parts are. Jane's mother struggled to raise her on her own, yet when I ask her about her mom, Jane has nothing but positive things to say. "Yeah, she had problems, but I was always her number one priority." Jane's mother made sure that Jane always had opportunities for a good education, and stressed more than anything else the importance of Jane doing well in school. Jane said that her mom wanted so much more for Jane to go on and enjoy the life that her mother could not have, and she so badly wanted Jane to rise above their situation that she did everything she could to allow Jane to go to school and thrive there.

Jane's mother passed away when Jane was fifteen years old from a drug overdose. I remember the first time I heard this from Jane, I wasn't sure what to say. But the thing about Jane is, that she never says these things to receive pity or complain about her life to other people. Jane legitimately wants to help other people that are in similar situations to those that she had to go through. She wants her life to be an example to other people, to say "we all go through rough times, but you can rise above your struggles and go on to make a positive difference in the world. You can do something with your life. You are more than your past, and you have a future."

Almost completely on her own, Jane has managed to get accepted at Michigan State University, pay for her schooling and living expenses, and receive high marks in school. She works almost every day of the week at a job that she doesn't enjoy, and she does it with a smile and a positive attitude towards her coworkers. Jane has no addictions and does not wallow in the tragedy of her past. Instead of looking at her past with spite, she looks at it as something that she wants to learn from. And she constantly reminds me, she would not be the kind, caring, considerate, and selfless person that she is today without her wonderful mother.

I am truly amazed every time I think of Jane's story. How many of us would be able to go through life with very little instruction and be as successful as Jane is? How many of us could rise above a childhood of homelessness and want, and become a person who truly cares from the bottom of their heart for those that paid them so little attention before? I think that is my favorite thing about Jane: how much she really cares.

I have seen Jane take care of so many people this past year: friends and strangers alike. She has supported her friends through difficult life situations, and stayed up all night with them helping them sort things out, and bought them chocolate to improve their mood, and written them nice messages on the white boards on their doors, just because she wants to see them happy. I know more than a few times I have come home to a message on my white board telling me I am pretty, or funny, or I smell good (she has a pretty goofy sense of humor, like me). But the thing is, so often Jane's efforts go overlooked. People take advantage of her kindness. They think (like I used to) "oh, that's just a part of her personality". But Jane works at hr kindness, and everything she does for her loved ones is deliberate. She buys you that chocolate because she cares about you, not just because she thinks it will make her look good. The same goes for the messages, and the friend counseling.

So, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you, Jane, from the bottom of my heart, for all of the things you do that you don't have to. Thank you for going out with me when everyone else wanted to stay home, even though you didn't know where we were going. Thank you for writing funny messages on the white board so I can laugh when I get home about how strange we are. Thank you for telling me that you are proud of me and everything I have done, because you know how good the recognition feels. Thank you for being my friend, when I didn't have many, and for loving me the way that everyone deserves to be loved.

Now I have something to say to you, Jane. You deserve to have people write you nice board messages. You deserve to have people stay up all night and talk to you when you are sad. You deserve to have people tell you they are proud of you. So I will tell you right now: I am proud of you. I do appreciate the things you do for me, and I notice them. And I really do care about you. I'm only sorry more people don't say these things to you, because I know they are thinking it.

"You is kind.
You is smart.
You is important."
-The Help

I think we can all learn a lesson from Jane about how to be selfless, and how to make a positive outcome from a negative situation. So let's go out today and tell the people we care about why we love them, and let's make sure everyone feels appreciated the way they deserve to be. In conclusion, "life is full of situations where you are going to have to deal with things you don't understand, but for God's sake, be open to learn." And, be open to appreciate :)

Have a lovely weekend!

The Marble Man

Imagine that you have a bag of marbles. Now, imagine that at the beginning of every day, all of your marbles are strewn across the floor, and the goal of every single day is to collect all of your marbles and put them back into your bag. Sounds easy, right? WRONG.

First of all, as your day goes on, you may be doing fine. You are slowly but surely collecting those marbles. But occasionally, some one will walk by and kick a marble out of your path. Now you've got to go way out of your way to get that marble. Either you can put it off and get it later, or you can spend a lot of your time retrieving that marble, and have less time to get the others. Either way, it is an inconvenience.

Second, sometimes people will walk by and some of the marbles from their bag will fall in your pathway. Now you've got to pick up those, and your marbles. More marbles! Or, if you have someone who can't handle all of their marbles, you can volunteer to help them out and take some of their marbles. However, you still have to get your marbles too...more marbles. And sometimes, when someone is a real jerk, they will deliberately drop their marbles into your path and walk away. More. Marbles.

Gotta Catch 'Em All!

So as you can see, throughout the course of your day, it becomes more and more difficult to get all of those marbles. On the occasion that you do get all of your marbles by bedtime, you are pretty damn proud of yourself. You feel good. It's been a good day. Now you dump all of your marbles back on to the floor, and set up to do it again tomorrow. But most of the time, you won't get all of your marbles. There will still be marbles rolling around on the floor and your bag will only be half full or a quarter full by the time you go to sleep. And what's worse, since you didn't get all of your marbles tonight, now you have to add extra on for tomorrow. That means double-time marble picking for you!

Now, take a step back. Look at the situation from an outsider's perspective. You are no longer the person collecting the marbles. You are now watching that person. What do you see? Well, unless you know them or what they are doing, you probably see someone looking crazy, spazzing out over a bunch of stupid little marbles and scattering across the floor to reach them. Why are they doing it? What is their purpose with this incessant marble hunting? You don't know, obviously. A better question would be, do they know? Do they know why they are chasing the marbles?

If you are still reading this, then I haven't absolutely destroyed you with my goofy, midnight-inspired story of the Marble Man. Allow me to explain myself:

The Marble Man

The Marble Man is you, or any person, really. Then, what are the marbles? The marbles are the items on your daily agenda. You have to get all of them completed before the day is over, and if you are anything like me, things (and people) often get in your way. You often finish your day without getting everything you wanted to get done accomplished. And then you have more things to do the next day. It's a never-ending process of searching and gathering, kind of like what we do when we use computers. Only I thought it would be easier (and a tad bit cuter) to compare this process to the routine of the Marble Man, rather than the workings of a computer.

The end of the story is what really interests me. If you take a step back from your daily agenda, and look at everything from an outsider's perspective...do you look crazy? Can other people understand why you are doing the things you are doing? Do you know why you are doing these things?

It has often helped me in life to look at things from the broader, long-term perspective. So what if you had to drop that class? It doesn't necessarily mean you will never graduate or get a job. So what if your boyfriend/girlfriend broke up with you? It doesn't mean you will be forever alone. I do understand and appreciate the fact that sometimes we, as people, just get caught in the moment. We wouldn't be human if we didn't care about anything unless it related to our distant future. The present is a crucial time. But worrying about every little thing that happens to us on a daily basis-madly trying to collect all of our marbles-isn't going to make us any happier. In fact, most of the time, it only makes us more frustrated.

We are Marble Men, naturally and unnaturally. And sometimes, we lose are marbles. That's okay. As long as we know that it isn't the end of the world and we are going to come out on top on the other side, we'll be fine. After all-

We are Marble Men.

Who Am I?

I am about to embark on a slight rant, so please, bare with me...

There is something on my mind that I want to try and articulate as clearly as I can figure. It's this little thing called "life". Life starts out as a single string: simple, headed in a single direction, easy to figure out. As we grow up, our life elaborates on itself: the string begins forming knots on itself, tying to other strings, etc. We meet thousands of people throughout life, from people we only see once, to people who become our very dearest friends. We begin school, we learn about numbers and letters, we learn that there is a whole world out there that is bigger than our little town that we grew up in. We begin feeling new emotions that we had never known existed before, or never recognized. And yet, in the early stages of our lives, all of this little stuff never really means anything because, at the end of the day, we go back home to our families (if we are so blessed to have them), eat dinner, watch some TV, and go to bed. It's simple, because we don't have to worry about the next day, and we don't think about the future beyond what we know is coming. That is the simple beauty of being a child.

Once we reach middle school, everything becomes a crisis. Puberty is the monster that eats up our childhood and starts turning us into little minions of a system created by adults that we never knew. Believe me, I've gone through it, and I came out on the other side. Around this time period is when we begin to understand just how much we are about to have dumped on our plates. We begin thinking about high school, begin worrying about the people that are going to remain in our lives outside of middle school, and we begin wondering bit by bit about the future-at least the next four years. Yet, life is still fairly simple. Sure, there's more homework, and hormones are beginning to drive us crazy with week long crushes and fandoms that turn us into raging emotional machines, but we still have the opportunity to turn back into our child-like selves occasionally, because our future is decided for us at the time. What else do we have to worry about?

Then comes high school. What an adventure! We leave as people drastically different than the people we were when we came in. We grow so much that, sometimes, we have a hard time catching up with ourselves. This is when things start to get messy, especially around the junior or senior year. Our string begins to get so cluttered with connections and knots that we have a difficult time figuring out where we began, reverting back to our roots. And I've realized something: throughout all of this, we begin to become detached from what it all means. We begin worrying about "where am I going to go to college?" and "who are the people I need to know to have a career?" rather than "when is the next time I will see my friend?" or "what did I do today to positively impact someone else's life?" The true trickery begins as soon as we set foot on our college campuses.

Now we don't even know who we are. We go in to school with a major in something we hate half of the time, just because we are told that is the only way we will make any money, or because our parents force us to make that career choice. And the people who choose a major in something that they "love" are truthfully not that much better. We still go to school, meticulously planning every minute of every day in order to optimize our chances of being "successful", and we barely spare any time for the people in our lives outside of academics and job experience. We stop doing things because we want to, or we want to do them for the wrong reason. We quit trying to be happy, and we forget what that word really means. We say we are "happy" when we receive a good grade on a test. We declare our joy when we have time to watch a movie or eat some ice cream in between study breaks. But what does it mean to be actually, truthfully happy? What is it all about?

I guess that is the main reason for this post: what is it all about? Why are we here? Some people live their whole entire lives without reaching a conclusion. Some people think they have the answer, but are never really sure. I personally believe that there can be multiple different reasons for a person's existence, and if we find even one, we are luckier than anyone else in the world.

Is it all about falling in love? Finding that one person that we can love unconditionally, and that will love us back? Some might think so. Is it about helping others to have the lives they deserve but could never reach? Maybe. Is it about some religious struggle, something bigger than ourselves that we can never fully understand? A lot of people would argue "yes". Truth is, I don't know. I don't know that I ever will. At the stage that I am at right now, I am struggling to even find out who I am. What does it mean to be me? What do I stand for? What words come to mind when other people think of me?

Who am I?

I apologize for overloading you with my silly and somewhat irrelevant words, but I just had to get this all out of my brain: it was taking up too much space in there. I never like to end my posts on anything but a positive note, so here is something to consider: maybe our "destinies" and our purpose in life are not completely ours to decide. Remember the string? I would think it would be rather difficult to get all of those knots and ties out on our own. But with the help of others, I would imagine we could eventually revert our string back to it's natural state. With the help of others, maybe we could realize what it all means, and take ourselves back to the beginning. Back to the time when we were first born, and the only things that mattered, were the only things that mattered.

The only things that mattered in life.  

An Unexpected Interruption

Blogging at completely inappropriate times seems to be my specialty lately. It's always when I am doing something completely unrelated that my thoughts decide to take a field trip and explore a topic lodged in the crevices of my mind. Today, I was walking to the book store and contemplating the overwhelming amount of things that I need to do today (and every day) when my brain skipped a beat and my Grandpa Jack came into play.

Jack I've always imagined as an academic sort of man: someone I could easily see as being a Professor if he had the opportunity. He enjoyed contemplating life and making up his own philosophies about how it was best lived. At the same time, exploring multiple subjects of interest (engineering in cars, reading the daily news, being an English scholar) was also one of his favorite hobbies. I was only two when he passed away, and yet often I feel like I can sense myself mimicking his ways, consciously or not. I too am a person interested in many subjects: English, Politics, Economics, Philosophy, Theater-pretty much anything but Math and Chemistry interest me to some extent. It is this ever prevalent hunger for knowledge which pushes me forward, and pulls me back at the same time.

Did you have these problems, Jack? Did you want to know everything, but you knew that you didn't have time to take it all in? Did you ever get frustrated when you couldn't do everything your mind was pushing you to do? I guess it all goes along with the saying "Everyone's best at something, but no one's best at everything".

Sometimes, it drives me crazy that I sign myself up for all of these different activities and classes, even when I know there is little time to spare as it is. But I cannot justify not doing everything in my power to absorb the abundant knowledge that is present and waiting for me in college. When else am I going to get the chance to learn about these things? Let's face it, after college is over, my opportunity window will be drastically narrowed, leaving only a minute space for freedom. So cramming all of these experiences into these four years is what I feel like I am here to do.

It sort of amuses me when I can picture Jack watching me from wherever he is, smiling in fond reminiscence as he remembers when he was at this stage in his own life. I can vividly imagine his experience being quite the same as mine. Can you hear me, Jack? What is it that you are trying to tell me, interrupting my thoughts on this busy Tuesday afternoon?

Stress Spirals

I am stressed. 98% of my day, every day. It feels like my stress is leading me down a slow but steady spiral into insanity. If it's not school, it's work. If it's not work, it's an extracurricular. If it's not that, it's a person. Something is always stressing me out. High expectations lead me to often high anxiety and sometimes disappointment. So should I expect less of myself? Should I not be involved with so many things?

I just wish I could be a hobo and live off of my rich husband. And then the little independent lady inside of me squeals with disgust. It's too difficult to be sane anymore...

Be Yourself and Smile!

I'm finally back at school, and I've been noticing a few things that I had forgotten, or hadn't noticed before, about college. For one thing, it seriously is like a mini-town full of people from the ages of 18 to  the mid-twenties for the most part. People in these age groups provide maintenance help, serve the food, check in people at the front desk, assist the professors...I mean, geez, what do the full time staff even do?? It's so strange to go from living in a town where nearly everyone is twenty years older than you, to a place where EVERYONE is your age, or close.

The one thing I realized the most when coming back to college though, was how important it is to put yourself out there. I am somewhere between an introvert and an extrovert. When I socialize too much for too long, I need to take a day for myself to recoup. But when I'm not with other people for a long time, I feel lonely-the urge to talk to or hang out with someone overtakes me. And I think it's because I have grown to realize how absolutely essential it is for me to be in contact and have connections with other people, even if I'm not in the mood to socialize sometimes. I've seen far too many people who have grown up with no one around, or at least, no one that matters. They lose their humanity in a sense: become numb to everything and only notice the bad things about life. There are far too many people on this planet to connect with for someone to grow old bitter and alone.

And there is so much to enjoy about a person once you finally venture out to talk to them. Some people are funny, some are smart, some are just plain nice. There are a lot of jerks out there too, not saying there aren't, but I almost feel like even the jerks have something hidden inside that makes them a good person. Maybe when they were younger, nobody wanted to bother talking to them, so they grew up old and cranky and made bad choices. I am willing to bet that the majority of bad people are just lonely souls trapped beneath a nasty demeanor.

So here is my advice, if you care enough to take it: even if you are feeling lazy, or tired, or not in the mood, make an effort to talk to someone new today. If it's only for a passing greeting, that is ay-ok! Or at least smile at someone as they pass you on the street or the sidewalk: you never know when you might be improving someone's day. Don't be afraid to be yourself around people you don't know: half of them will end up liking you, and the other half will just forget you. It's not hurting anybody, but it's helping you.

We're all forced to share the same planet, we don't have much of a choice. So why not try making the lives of those around you as good as they can be for as long as they will last?

Set Sail!

As I make a list of all of the things that I need for school this year, and sort through everything I have, and mentally prepare myself for the realization that my summer is almost over, I can't help but remember this time last year. I was a nervous freshman, about to begin my first year away from home. I wasn't sure what the new year was going to bring me. I had nightmares occasionally about getting lost on campus, or showing up late to class: the kinds of nightmares where the scenery around you morphs and twists until you have no idea where you are but you know it isn't where you are supposed to be.

The first year was challenging, but as I met new friends and got into a routine, it became easier. And then I moved back home, and got used to the slow flow of things, only to be propelled once more back into the chaotic mess that is my life at school. Such is life. It seems like whenever I start getting comfortable with one thing, I am thrown headlong into something else. Kind of like I am standing on the plank, and one wrong move will send me tumbling down into the seas.

I won't lie, I'm just as nervous this year as I was for the last. I've never been one of those people who is okay with not knowing what is going to happen, who can just "go with the flow" and know it will all work out. I am more one of those people who has a list for her lists and plans parties and events months ahead of time, becoming frustrated when others cannot morph to my schedule. So I know where my classes are, so I do have friends on campus: I still don't know what I'm doing next summer, I still don't know what internship I will have before I graduate, I still don't know how to get where I'm going and somehow make enough money to eat at the same time. Taking it one day at a time is what is getting me through the beginning of yet another new start.

I did, shockingly, set some goals for myself, to help ease the transition back to school:

Goal #1. Decide if I'm going to add another major. Decide what it is I want out of my future career.

Goal #2. Enjoy as much of my spontaneous, young life as I can, because before I know it, I won't have the chance to go watch shooting starts at 2am on a Tuesday morning. And,

Goal #3. Do my best. It's all I can do.

I think I'm the only person who has to write "have fun" in her planner, or she may forget to do it :)

So begins another year! Another challenge! Another 365 days to "make it or break it"! And I'm ready. My "Imagination" poster and scented candles are lying in wait with me. We are bracing ourselves for the shock of the incoming hurdle into the seas of the unknown. I have a ship made of faith, and God is my Captain, so let's set sail before the high tide of doubt casts us into the beyond!

Godspeed, Me Maties!

"I'm the Russian Bride!"

This post is dedicated to my Aunt Sheila and Uncle Craig:

My Aunt and Uncle, who are in actuality my mom and dad's best friends, have been married for 28 years before they were married in my church. But my Aunt told me that her mother, who passed away in 1994, had always wanted her daughter to be married in our faith. When she originally married 28 years ago, it was in a United Methodist Church. Her family all attended, despite their strong religious affiliations to another denomination, but my Aunt always knew that her mom wanted her married in their faith. Her mother may not have lived to see it, but yesterday my Aunt fulfilled her promise to her mother, and finally did what she had always wanted: she had her marriage blessed in our church.

I guess this just goes to show how powerful a promise can be, and how much a parent's words can resonate with their child. Congratulations to my Aunt Sheila and Uncle Craig, may you be blessed with 30 more years of joy and happiness! I love you both!

Stroll Down Memory Lane

Parts of my childhood seem to be forever hidden in the the foggiest parts of my memory, until they are brought to my attention when I meet someone or hear something that takes me back. Today I was taken down a stroll on memory lane, so I figured I would share. 

I was volunteering with the Habitat for Humanity in my hometown, going around to local businesses and asking for donations for our auction fundraiser that we do every year. My boss and I stopped inside the furniture shop downtown, Beyer's Furniture, and as we walked inside an image came to me that had been resting somewhere in the back of my head for years, collecting dust. It went like this: 

I was sitting before an old chair, with a spotted rug beneath me and a small, light-stained wooden bedside table to my right. My sister sat beside me on the floor. I was probably around the age of six or seven, but no older, which would peg my sister at nine or ten. In front of us was one of those old, tiny televisions, with the dial and everything. Somebody, although I can't remember exactly who, had put a movie in for my sister and I to watch. It was "Anastasia". This was the first time that I ever saw this movie, and let me tell you, I did not like it. What kid enjoys a movie with demons popping up out of the ground and creepy old men cutting off their slimy hands? But I remember sitting there and watching the movie, and then my flashback ended. 

Back in the present time at the furniture store, I had a realization: this memory had taken place in this very store, which is what triggered it. You see, my Aunt Anita (who was really more of my grandma, for reasons that will be explained later) used to work in this store, and sometimes my sister and I would come over and visit, hence the sitting on the ground watching a movie while she worked. The fact that all of this had gone unremembered by me for so many years made me smile. It was like a missing part of my childhood had been restored. 

The man who was working at the store looked older, probably in his seventies, so I wondered if he had known my Aunt or would remember her. She died in 2001, so I thought the chances slim, but asked anyway. And when he smiled and laughed, asking me if I meant "Sargeant Silkworth", I knew he remembered her. (Note: Silkworth was my Aunt Anita's last name) Apparently, she used to go around the shop, telling him how things had to be, and how this had to be moved, and that wasn't right, even though he was the owner of the store. They all called her "Sargeant Silkworth", and to demonstrate this, the man saluted in my direction. I shook my head because I knew exactly what he was talking about. My Aunt was just like that: she was opinionated, stubborn, and outspoken. And anyone who really knew her loved it. 

Bud Beyer was the owner of the furniture store's name. He told me how my Aunt had gotten hired at the store, back in the late 80's. My grandma Pat had been diagnosed with breast cancer at the time, and so my Aunt came up to help take care of her only sister. My grandpa was working and both my uncle and my dad had moved out of the house, so she figured her sister could use someone to help take care of things while the guys were gone. She and my grandma were out at a restaurant with the Bud's wife when my grandma told the owner's wife that "she ought to hire Anita at the store". My Aunt Anita and my Grandma Pat were Hoods, and Hoods would tell you like it is and were not ones to beat around the bush. The lady was obviously a bit surprised by this foreword approach, but my grandma continued. "My sister worked for a design company in California see, and she is bored out of her mind at our house. She hates being cooped up there all the time with nothing to do. She'd be a great addition to your store." Or at least, that's somewhat how I imagined the conversation going. So eventually, after talking it over with Bud, his wife hired her. She worked there for at least 10 years. 

I loved hearing this story from Bud because it reminded me of how fascinating my grandma and my Aunt were, a part of my history that isn't brought up much. And Bud told me he noticed my grandpa's death in the papers recently, which only showed me how much he really cared about my family. He remembered that my grandpa used to do puzzles in the basement while my grandma raged on upstairs, and then when she was done being upset, he would come back upstairs and just do his silly old smile and laugh routine that I had seen him do so many times in my own life. All of the memories came back to me when Bud told me these stories, and I thought that made a pretty great addition to my day. 

I will never forget that I am a Harris, and part Hood, and that means that I know how to get things done, I am not afraid of hard work, and I am not afraid to be myself. Even if my grandma, grandpa, and Aunt are gone, these things that they taught me will live on in me forever. They will always be there, waiting to greet me when I get jolted back into my memories. 

"Don't Lose Your Head

To Save A Minute

You Need Your Head

Your Brains Are In It!" 

-Aunt Anita's Plaque

Make Your Mark

Do you ever feel like you must be meant for something more?

I'm sure I'm not the only one who ever feels this way: who feels like she's not yet reached her full potential. For a long time now, I've been hoping and praying and believing with all of my heart that I am meant to do something spectacular in this world, and that I am not just another walking zombie, just another statistic. I know, I know, "everybody's special". Which is just a fancy way of saying that nobody is, to borrow a quote from The Incredibles.

I find it extremely difficult if not impossible to think that I just plopped down here on the Earth to go about my entire life working in an office, making money so I could keep a roof over my head and food in my stomach, and then dying. No lasting impact. No mark left. Nothing. And quite frankly, the thought makes me angry. It may sound selfish, but I want more than anything to mean something: to do something that nobody else could. I like the idea of having a "destiny", even if I'm not sure if I believe in that or not. It's a pleasant thought to mull over.

So think about it: do you ever feel this way? Like you know there is something deep down inside of you just waiting for the right moment to come out and catch everyone by surprise? Like you are needed more than you know by people that may not even know you? Maybe I just sound crazy and I'm not relating to anyone on this, but I like to think that I don't sound that way. I'm pretty sure other people can understand how I feel. After all, we're really not all that different.

What do you think it is that you are meant to do to leave your mark and make an impact? Who are you going to be and how will this effect other people? Thinking about the big questions like this can sometimes help straighten the world out, I think. If we all payed a lot more attention to how our attitudes and actions affected other people and a lot less attention to how we feel ourselves, then who knows, maybe people would stop complaining about the world and start changing it. Start making an impact.

I'm not sure what it is I'm meant to do, but I know I'm meant to do something. I have to believe it. Otherwise, what is all this for anyway?

SUMMER

It's summer! Well, for me at least. My summer started about a week ago, but I figured I would write something for my blog about how it's been going so far.

For starters, I've got 2 jobs, and I'm hoping to do a bit of volunteer work on the side. I couldn't live with myself if I wasn't always busy! Not only this, but I am helping my dad prepare my grandpa's house for sale, as well as learning new things and catching up on my reading. 15 books by August, do you think I can make it? As of about a week ago, I became completely and totally obsessed with The Walking Dead on AMC. It took about a week but I am all caught up on all 3 seasons. Sad, isn't it? But that's why I love the summer: it's a time for me to do completely pointless and non-beneficial things and not feel bad about it. I mean I don't have any homework; this is my time to relax. Why not enjoy it?

But don't think I'm a complete bore. Along with my work and volunteering, I've got plans for some fun shenanigans with my bros: Cedar Point weekend is coming soon, plus my sister's trailer warming party (if that idea ever gets off the ground), kayaking, visiting friends from all over the state, going to Grand Rapids to break in my bestie's new apartment, camping with the family, and cliff diving, just to name a few. See, I'm interesting! Or at least, I'm going to keep telling myself that.

I'll hopefully also muster up the urge to get to editing my book. It's slow at the moment; can't seem to find the motivation. Then again, writing is like that a lot. I just have to do it, and stop thinking about it. That's how things get done.

In a little while I'll post again giving an update on my life and my adventures: I'll probably write about Cedar Point once I get there. For now, this is what I've got. I may be the only one even reading this, but it's always been more of a personal record anyway. For my own purposes. If anyone else is reading, though, then I will write again soon.

What a lovely journey this life is turning out to be, hmm?

End of the Year Reflections

It's the end of the year, and I'm almost done being a freshman-Thank GOD. But seriously, it's been a whole year? When did that happen? When did I grow up and suddenly finish my first year of college?

There were many times during the year that I thought I might die: when my bike was stolen and I had to run a half hour to south campus for a mandatory meeting. Or when I was studying for my Biology final and thought there was no way I would remember all of this about monocots and eudicots. Or any of the countless other stressful moments when I would spiral out of control in fear that I would fail. I was afraid that I couldn't make it on my own.

But I did! I did make it, and I came out kicking! Now that I reflect back on the school year, it was possibly one of the roughest of my life, and I realized how much I've learned.

My grandma Irene passed away during the first week of my college career. It wasn't sudden or unexpected, but that didn't make it any less hard. I missed a few days of my first week to go to her funeral, and the stress of losing someone so important only added to the stress of the first week. Then, about a month later, I lost one of my friends from high school. She was a beautiful girl, and going to the funeral of a 19 year old is never something I want to have to experience again. Added onto that, my grandpa and my puppy of 13 years both passed away within a week of each other in December, during finals week of my first semester. All of this happened within 4 months, and I wasn't sure how I was going to make it out of there. It pushed me to a breaking point, but now that I looked back on it, while all of these events were sad, they helped me to grow.

I loved my grandma, and my grandpa, and my puppy, and my friend. There are so many relationships we make every day, and we don't even realize how important they are to us until they are gone. I learned things from these people (and this dog) that I'm not sure they even knew they were passing on to me.

From my grandma: Spirituality and Peace. Beauty and God. Love and Family.

From my grandpa: Hard work and Perseverance. "Enjoy" and Simplicity. Priorities and Family.

From my puppy: Loyalty and Love.

From my friend: Smiles and Hope. Laughter and Unselfishness. Unity and Friendship.

It is sad to think that these people aren't here anymore, but they've left their mark on me. And that's something that will never pass away.

After struggling my way through the first semester, I still managed to pass with flying colors. And despite all of the losses, I still enjoyed a holiday season with my friends and family. I was prepared for the second semester, which was significantly easier than the first.

And now I'm done completely with my first year, and I am going to miss my friends and roommate so much. Thank you for putting up with me and letting me be your friend, all of you. A special shout out goes to The Ladies: Hanna, Emily, and Kelsi. Another special mention for my Thursday lunch buds and future roomie: Nat and Nick. Kara, I never would've gotten through Comm without you. Brittany, you were the first friend I ever made here, and as such you will always hold a special place in my heart. Thanks for accepting me. Melissa, you are truly and sincerely the best roommate I could've asked for to show me the ropes of MSU, and the best Red Cedar River diving partner. Thank you.

My last mention will go to my sister, Mary. You are graduating this year, and moving onto the big kid world. I know you will do great things and make a significant difference in each of the lives you touch. I'm so glad we could've had this year together, and thank you for all of the things you have done for me. You've taught me the ways of college (at least somewhat). You took care of me when I was sick. You went on crazy adventures with me, watching the meteor shower at 1:30 on a Tuesday morning. You showed me how to ride a freaking bike when I was 8, and you haven't stopped teaching me since. I know you are only a 3 hour drive away, but it feels like it will be so much farther than that. This will be the first time in the 19 years of my life that I won't be able to see you all of the time, and that I won't expect you to be in your room or on the couch downstairs watching TV or in your apartment. It's strange, that you are so grown up. It's an odd concept to me that you are an adult now, but I'm excited for you all the same. I will miss you and I love you!

Now that I've said my due to the people who have influenced me the most this year, I would like to add the groups and the experiences that stand out in my memory as the most influential. These have all changed me over the course of this year, and it never ceases to amaze me all of the things I've accomplished in 8 months.

My ASB people and my trip are at the top of the list. This experience truly changed my direction in life, showing me what work I find meaningful and what I would find satisfying doing for the rest of my life. And the people I met are all people I will remember forever as being a part of it. Next is Writer's Bloc. It has shown me even more about my major than I thought I would ever know, and it, along with my work at the CE, has been my best professional development work yet. My work at the Gallery has been quite a ride, with the promotion only heightening my love for what I do there. And finally, to MSU, my new home. I've still got 3 years here: let's hope that they will only grow in greatness.

That's it. So much has happened in one academic year. I don't even know how to phrase it correctly. It's over, and it's time for a new beginning, this time with a bit more knowledge, and a LOT more confidence. Love you, MSU, I'll be back in August!

Have a great summer, everybody!

Reflection on the Bombing

I found myself standing there, looking out at the vast expanse of buildings and chilly blue waters of Lake Michigan, wondering how in the world I became so blessed, and so fortunate. Good health, good family and friends, and the advantages of being raised in a middle-waged family.

I went to visit my friend Taylor in Chicago this past weekend, and of course I enjoyed myself. The scenes were awe-inspiring, the pizza was like a gift from God, the shopping was fabulous. And I had every intention of blogging about it as soon as I got back. Then the bombings in Boston happened, and I realized how silly and petty it would be of me to post something about my vacation when there is such suffering going on right now. So instead, I would like to take a moment to pray for those affected by the bombings: friends, family, and strangers alike. Tragedies such as these never go unnoticed.

When things like this happen, I realize that I could die any day. Life is such a short, fragile being, and my life isn't any more important than anyone else's in the eyes of a killer. It's very sobering for me to think about how blessed I have been in my life up to this point, and how fortunate I am to have the opportunities I have been given. Not everyone else has these chances, not everyone else is going to make it.

It isn't fair that people think they have the right or the power to take another's life. Nobody on Earth has that right. All life is precious and it is a shame that so many people are oblivious to that fact. But I don't like being the Debby Downer, especially in times like this. I like looking forward to the future, yet enjoying the present and fondly reflecting on the past. All time is sacred, because we are only given so much time. So don't spend this time complaining about how bad the world is unless you are going to try and change it.

Remember that there are always and will always be good people here; people who love you and will take care of you and help you when you are in need. They don't even have to be somebody that you know. After the bombings, tons of strangers came together to help each other and get everyone the medical attention they needed. This is what I like to take away from tragedies: people do care, and are more than willing to help. I just wish it didn't take a tragedy or a killing for this instinct to come into play.

Imagine what it would be like if everyone acted like this all of the time: if everyone genuinely cared. We don't need an excuse to do kind things, but we do seem to need motivation. So here's some motivation: you can make a difference in anyone's life by doing even the smallest of things. You are a great person, and you are capable of great things. Let's make changes that help the greater good. Let's be like the strangers at the Boston Bombing.

Enjoy the rest of your day. Keep smiling!

I'm Lazy

Ah yes, late on a Tuesday night/early Wednesday morning. What an opportune time to post something! (since I haven't been keeping up on that lately... 

Here are some videos that I quite like and think you should take a gander at: 

A Video About Bullying

An Inspirational Adventure

Check them out and tell me what you think, since I'm too lazy to write my own post today anyway.

Thank you, as usual!

"Do What You Believe In"

Tonight I'm reading a book that gets my mind dancing all over the place. It's for one of my major classes, and it's called "Tribes" by Seth Godin. It's an easy read; very concise and pretty fun. I would definitely recommend it.

Basically,  the book is about how to be a leader and what a successful group of people needs to do and have to be a tribe (notice how I did not say "company" or "organization". Those are very different things). And while this book is so overwhelmingly scary in it's concepts about "if you don't like what you're doing, stop and do something else" or "don't be afraid to get fired", it is also a book that gets me thinking. It's so blunt. Do what you like, because that is probably what you're best at. Lead others by not following the status quo. Be willing to struggle to find that place where you can change things.

One of the things I noticed from reading this book about myself is that I am so scared of change. Mostly just the permanent changes. Like a change in jobs (getting fired and being homeless), change in atmosphere (aka global warming), and change in my relationships (friends and family). Most people are probably just like me. But the book says change is good, and that we can't get the things we want unless we are willing to change the things that already have. If it's right, then I've got a lot of changing to do.

I want to end up somewhere where I am excited to go to work every day. Where I love what I am doing so much that it isn't even like a job, but a hobby. Somewhere where I am leading and creating and inspiring and making a difference. Somewhere where I'm "doing something I believe in".

Just a little something to consider before going to bed.

Spring Break Series: The Sites

Whilst on my spring break in South Dakota, my fellow breakers and I performed service for an impoverished Native American reservation. But this was not all that we did out there.


We had one day off during the week to go site seeing; some of which we had already done on Sunday. On Sunday we went to see the Badlands, which are basically gigantic rock mountain-like formations in red and tan. As soon as we saw them we were amazed, all hoping out of the car simultaneously to climb up and down and all around the natural playground. I felt a bit like Indiana Jones, scaling intense cliff sides and standing on what I took to be the edge of the world. We did this for hours, and it never got old. It seemed the longer we were out there, the more mystical the moments became. At sunset, we took one last look out over the lands, green plateaus housing buffalo herds and a fiery red sky looking back at us. It was an all new experience for me.

And that was only the beginning!

On our day off, we went to see: Wounded Knee, the Wind Caves, Crazy Horse Monument, Prairie's Edge, and Bear Butte, in that order. Wounded Knee was our first stop, and it must have been about 6:45 when we got there, because the sun was just rising in the sky and the morning frost was fresh on the graves. It was freezing, silent, and most of all, sobering. The gravesite was completely still, the kind of stillness that only comes from eternal sleep. The mass grave that stood above the rest was covered with colorful, battered cloth pieces waving in the breeze. These cloth pieces are like prayers from people who had come to the site beforehand to pray for the deceased. I saw graves of children there, and babies, and who knows how many young people were buried in the unmarked, mass grave. It was a sad sight to behold, but one of great historical significance.

Next, we went to the Wind Caves, which were much less tragic yet just as significant. The Lakota people believe that the first humans crawled out of those caves at the dawn of time. The only natural entrance to the caves are the size of a man's hat, which is why we went in the manmade entrance. Down in the caves, there are passageways and tunnels leading every which way deeper and deeper into the Earth's core. All of the passageways have not yet been explored, but of the thousands that have been, we only got to go down one. The walls of the cave were amazing; molded and shaped from thousands (millions?) of years of decay and erosion. At one point, our tour guide had us all be completely silent, and he turned off all of the lights. I have never experienced such darkness. Not a sound but our breath and a little drip of water every now and then. Not a sight at all. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. Imagine what it would be like to live in such nothingness. This was one of my favorite parts of the trip, having a feeling so foreign as being completely and utterly empty. Something I will never forget.

The Crazy Horse Monument was our next stop. I could see it for miles away, even before we pulled into the parking lot! That is just how big it was. The entirety of Mount Rushmore can fit inside his head. Wow. Sadly I think it will be a while until it is done, but it was fantastic to behold anyway. And while we were there we stopped at a restaurant that overlooked the monument, which was where I got to have my first taste of fry bread and a buffalo burger, both of which I would highly recommend to those of you who aren't vegetarians. Really, it's that good.

Prairie's Edge was basically just a gift shop where tourists could go to get hand-crafted American Indian art, wood carvings, bead work, grasses and herbs, etc. But it was pretty cool.

And our final stop was at Bear Butte; a large hill where the Lakota send men on their vision quests for four day and nights with no food or water. It is a sacred place to the Lakota people, said to be made on a giant bear's back. We were there at night, when the stars came out, and spirits floated around us, watching us. Ernie LaPoint and his wife Sonja (Ernie is the last genetically traceable great-grandson of the famous Sitting Bull) came and talked to us a bit about Lakota spirituality, and vision quests, and how if you were not prepared properly, the hill could do strange things to you. Some people had completely disappeared on their quests. More colorful cloth pieces were tied on the trees all around the hill as people began to prepare for the spring ceremonies. It felt like a strange place, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why. But anyone who goes there can see and feel why it is so sacred to the Lakota people.


All of these places are places I will never forget: breath-taking and historical and sobering and spiritual. I'd like to experience more things like this before I die. And if I do, you will be the first to know.

Spring Break Series: The Crew

Here is the next post in my series about my Alternative Spring Break trip to a Native American reservation in South Dakota! Last time I talked about the issues the people out their confronted every day. Today I would like to talk about a lighter subject, something that I am becoming more thankful for as time goes by: the crew.

11 other people, complete strangers that I had only met two or three times before the trip started, ventured with me out into the plains. I barely knew any of them. It's not like I had any previously existing grudges towards them or anything, I just didn't know them at all. There is something invigorating about meeting a new person. They are like a blank canvas, and as they reveal things about themselves, whether on purpose or not, their picture begins to take form. And most of the time, it ends up being a masterpiece.

I got to know 5 of the 11 very quickly in our shared 17 hour car ride to South Dakota. We split the group into two vans of 6, and when I got the list of who was going to be in my van, I was nervous. These were 5 of the people I was the most unfamiliar with going out. But it doesn't take long to get to know someone when you are all crammed shoulder to shoulder in a mini van stuffed with millions of bags of snacks and blankets. We just needed to break the ice. And it all started with THE BATMAN.

Having things in common brings people together. And we all just so happened to have a bit of an obsession with this winged vertebrate-impersonating hero. We watched all of the movies, and one of the members in our van began mimicking Batman's voice in everything he said. I don't think you realize how freaking hilarious this is, especially when everyone is sleep deprived. We must've laughed for hours. After that, everything escalated rather quickly. We even named our van "The Batmobile" to honor the moment.

Some of my favorite moments from the trip are things that couldn't be planned: like lying on the floor laughing our butts off because of the "Sick Cat", and the "Chris Dance". Or playing the gummy bear taste-testing game (where yellow is the color of deception). Or clinging on for dear life as one of the only guys on our trip tried to kill us by driving 90 miles an hour around the sharp twists and turns of the Badlands. Or wondering how our tour guide, Ted, ate with his small cat-sized beard. Or having a bowl of popcorn shoved in my sweatshirt hood. Or watching the other van being pulled over by a cop for sticking their torsos out of the windows. Or being pulled over yourself for speeding at 3am. Or adopting a dog from the reservation and driving him the entire 17 hour drive home in a car with 6 people. Or watching another member impersonate an atom. Or any of the countless other unscripted moments that I shared with these 11 strangers.

These 11 strangers that quickly became my close friends.

It is amazing what 1 week of close contact and shared interests can do to 11 people. I never expected to love them all as much as I do: I'm not generally one to quickly make friends. But when someone is that real with you, when someone is that genuine and 100% comfortable being themselves around you...you can't help but return the favor. And that is something that I highly value in my friendships. We aren't afraid to be goofy and to laugh, and to do stupid things. We aren't afraid to be ourselves.

I couldn't have asked for a better group to travel with into South Dakota. I couldn't have asked for better friends. Love my crew. Love ASB. Love my life.

Spring Break Series: The Issues

Last October, I was trying to decide what I wanted to do with my spring break. I knew I didn't want to just go home and sit around, but I couldn't think of what else to do with one week of my time. I knew I wanted to go somewhere and do something new that I had never done before.

Which was when my roommate told me about Alternative Spartan (Spring) Breaks at my school. 

Basically, ASB is a student organization that sends out groups of 12 people to different locations all around the US (and some to other countries) to perform acts of service for causes in need. I applied and was accepted to the trip to South Dakota to work on the issue of Indigenous Rights. 

Now when I first heard about it, I wasn't completely sure what this issue was. But after speaking to many elders and leaders at the reservation, and learning from my fellow breakers, I have a pretty good idea of what the issue is. It is just what it says it is: rights for indigenous peoples, pertaining to North Americans on my trip specifically. 

My group was sent to work on the Rosebud Reservation with the Lakota tribe. I wanted to share a bit of what I had experienced on tyhe trip, and then I realized I cannot express everything in one blog post. So I'm going to split it up into a few posts, each with a different topic relating to the trip. For this post, I would like to talk about the issue, and about awareness. 

Each person I talked to on the reservation had a different story: about overcoming alcoholism at the age of 43, having 2 babies at the age of 17 and having to drop out of high school when you are 6 credits away from graduating, having your only son pass away from suffocation on a living room rug...all of these, amongst others were ones I heard from the mouths of people I met on the reservation.  

Everyone had a story to tell, and these combined stories made me realize what a big issue indigenous rights is. 90% of the people on the reservation I went to suffer from alcoholism, and 65% are addicted to drugs. The reason for these problems (amongst others) partially comes from the deplorable conditions these people have to suffer through every day. Poverty is obvious on the reservation, as well as ill health. Most people cannot afford to buy fruits and vegetables, which are some of the most expensive things in the local grocery stores. A lot of people don't have jobs. The schools the children attend are not preparing the kids for further education. To top it all off, the government is planning on cutting back the budget for this reservation and others like it even further. 

But poverty is not the only reason for the struggles of these and other Native peoples. There is also a deep, burning sadness that resonates from long ago. From the loss of their land. From the banishment of their culture. Natives were not legally allowed to practice their religions until 1978; only 35 years ago. And it was banned in the late 1800's. Imagine the damage that over a century of not being allowed to practice your culture can provoke. Languages were lost. Ceremonies were forgotten. The only reason that any part of the culture at all survived was because of the perseverance that a select group of individuals showed by performing underground ceremonies and secretly keeping the culture alive. Talking to the people of the tribe showed me how sad it is, that their way of life is dwindling. In another 2 generations, there may not even be any more Native speakers...

However, amongst the tragedy of these lost peoples, their are glimmers of hope. I have seen the faith and the strength that shines in the eyes of the people every day. There is no reason that this loss of tradition cannot be regained, no reason that the poverty cannot be diminished and that these people cannot accomplish a better life. There is no reason that young people and young Natives canot take an interest in the culture and bother to become active with their past. One of the best ways that I can help with the restoration effort is merely through knowing that these things do exits, and that they are a problem. 

Many people choose to ignore the issues. I am choosing to spread the knowledge to address them. And a lot of people will read this and not care, or think it is interesting but forget about it in a week. I'm not asking you to get up and go to a reservation and start building houses. I am merely asking you to remember. Be aware. Know that the issue is there, and it is important. Know that you can help, and if you get the chance, please do. Know that you aren't the only person on this planet who has problems. 

There is so much else about the trip that I want to talk about: the sites, the friends I made, the dog we picked up, the Batmobile and it's slow but sure destruction...but I will save these for another time. Anyways, thanks for reading, and thanks for remembering. 

Until next time!

Food for Thought

Geez, I am seriously neglecting my duties as a blogger...shame on me. But really, I'm sorry it's been so long since I last posted anything. Let's change that.

I think I'd like to start off with a story today...

"The world is a silly, crazy, nonsensical place, isn't it?" Said the teacher one day. Lady in Blue had to admit, she agreed whole-heartedly. Not so much in a negative manner, but more in just agreeing that very few things made sense around her. Her confusion was growing with each and every day.

Lady in Blue came to this place, this place where everyone from 18 to 22, and then some older, came to   figure out what to do with the rest of their lives, and where they were going to go, and what they were going to be...a lot of pressure for someone who wasn't even around two decades ago. And most of the time spent at this..."cage" of sorts, was spent not on focusing on careers, but on very basic parts of the person. Like what they were interested in, and how they could make money doing it. If you haven't caught on yet, this cage is college. And Lady in Blue is me.

I spent the first five months of my college experience trying to convince myself that I had to know everything now and get started on being successful. What a load of bull that is. If anyone ever tries to tell you that, don't buy it. Sure, you should be proactive. Yes, you should be motivated and work hard and figure out what it is you like. But you don't have to plan your entire life out right now. Most of the time, what you started out doing isn't the same thing you will end up doing anyway. Life changes all of the time. It is crazy. It is nonsensical. My teacher was right.

So enjoy the days you have. Find those things that make you truly, purely happy. Stick with them. Find the people that you know you couldn't live without. Keep them around. And everything will work out. How can I know for sure? I can't. But I believe it. Everything will work out. Someone somewhere has a plan for me. I don't have to do this all alone.

Food for thought: There are 5 things that make me sincerely, truly happy every day I think about them. What makes you sincerely, truly happy? And why?

Springtime Memories

Just out of curiosity: What is your favorite memory?

We all have one. I have a lot. Some of them are vague, fuzzy memories I sometimes mistake for dreams. Some of them are very distinct and clear, and I remember exactly how I felt when they happened. I guess my favorite memory isn't even a memory, but more of a series of memories.

The sun is getting brighter here on campus. I can hear birds singing outside my window when I wake up in the morning, and I smell the fresh grass and buds beginning to pop up out of the snow drifts and puddles. It is February, yes, but anything can happen with Michigan weather. It is February, but I can sense spring is on its way.

Spring is the season when my memories all come back to me, mostly because it is the season of new beginnings. And we can't have a new start without recalling what has happened in the past. In the past, when I used to lay out in the long green grass in my backyard and stare up into the cloudless sky, a slight, cool breeze chilling me. The sun was always positioned just right: not bright enough to blind me, but not dim enough to be unnoticeable. My dogs would be running, playing in the yard. My dad would be cooking steak or burgers on the grill. My mom would be sitting on the porch talking to my grandpa, or listening to music inside as she continued with her never-ending spring cleaning. My sister would be practicing basketball in the driveway, or making bazooka zucchini guns with my cousins in the garden. And I would lay in the grass and take deeps breaths of the cleanest air I have ever known.

Sometimes I spent those same days wandering through the woods in my backyard, swinging on our old swing set (which has been gone for what must be at least 5 years now), or playing catch with my dad. All of these memories come in a series in my mind when I think of the spring season, and they all make me smile. I guess I just like the simplicity. No worries. No anxiety. There was nothing to stress out about, no reports to finish. Just me and my family and our home.

These are the times I like to remember the most. These are the times that keep me going on especially difficult days. These are my fondest memories.

What are yours?

Paper, Pencil, and Past

Four years ago, in 2009, I think it was during the summer, I sat down at the desk in the office at my home and started writing. I didn't really have any ideas in mind. I just wrote a short piece about a character I made up at that moment, and left it at that. I think it was about twenty pages to start. Not much, but it was a lot for me.

When I first started writing-my first ever story-was about five pages. Now, this does not include the comics I had been making in elementary school since second or third grade. Those are even more ancient (and shorter) pieces of my history...

But the first ever story I wrote was when I was probably about twelve. It was a short piece about some people who were at the New Years celebration for the year 3000 (no connection to the Jonas Brothers first hit, I swear). Basically, the three main characters got abducted by some aliens, and I guess some how or another they had to get everyone back home. And this all happened within five pages. I was so proud of myself, and my drastically underdeveloped, premature work.

After that, I wrote another story that was about ten pages this time. It was about a girl who got lost in a cornfield or something (I can't honestly remember, and don't have it in front of my face right now to check). Either way, I remember writing it, and I remember being satisfied when it was done about a half an hour later. After that, I wrote two or three more short stories (which I'm sure weren't very good) before I sat down and wrote out the piece that is the topic of this post.

I honestly can't remember how I got the idea. I remember writing, and dating, the original work. I remember making two or three sequels, adding characters and action. And as I wrote each "book", they began to grow in length and detail. The characters started to interest me. I wondered who they were and where they had come from. I knew there had to be more to them that what I was writing down. Because, let's face it, those early drafts were way too short to include all of the finely-tuned details I knew were hidden somewhere in those backstories I neglected. This was all four years ago when I wrote the first draft. Many things have changed in four years, but the story I wrote is still there for me. The core concepts have not changed.

I guess I'm talking about it because this story means a lot to me. It might not be good enough to get published. Hell, right now, I know it's not. There is so much missing. So much of the story is made up of material that has been used millions of times before by thousands of run-of-the-mill authors. And that does irritate me. I want people to love my story, like I love it. I want people to see my characters as real as I see them, and to care for them as much as I do. But if it doesn't sell, it doesn't sell. It's just nice for me to know that it's there. It's nice to know that, even though things are changing rapidly, sometimes out of my control, and the world is becoming a much more real place, I still have my old story and my old characters to fall back on.

Some days, when I am particularly stressed or tired, or I just don't want to deal with anything, I go back to my story and tinker with it. I add a sentence here, change the wording there. Not much. I don't, sadly, have enough time in a day to work on it. If I were a hermit, and didn't have to do well in school or go to work, I would work on my story every day. By the time I was done with it, it would be so amazing everyone would want it. That's what I tell myself, anyway. But there just isn't time. In the future, I want to take it somewhere. I want to have my characters become household names, and I want there stories to last forever. Kind of an overwhelming concept.

Take it one day at a time. Find out what it is that keeps you up and going. Is there something that you know you would finish if you had time? Something you love that reminds you of relaxing days?

My story will always matter to me. I won't ever delete it, even if it isn't worth a dime. The psychological associations attached to it are too precious. And even though you have no idea what my story is about (since I haven't told you and don't plan to), hopefully you can see how important it is to have that anchor. To have something to remind you that everything is the same as it always has been, just a little different.

I'm not afraid of change. But it's nice to know that somethings are always the same.

Welcome to Camp Purpose

Good Morning my lovely readers!

I hope you are all doing splendidly on this snowy Monday morning. Technically, I am writing this at 12:09 am, so it is morning, just barely. And it may not be snowy where you are, but it is here! I love the snow.

Recently, I have realized that most of my posts on this blog are kind of preachy-preachy. Kind of dull, and about "life lessons" and things of the sort. I can assure you, that is not all this blog is for. I mainly post what is on my mind at the time, what is bothering me, or just things I want to share. I would love it if people would comment and tell me what it is that they want to hear, but since I am a novice writer, I haven't earned that privilege yet. So until somebody tells me otherwise, Imma just keep doing what I'm doing! That's kind of my philosophy for life as a whole.

Which reminds me, do you think anybody ever really knows what they're doing? Like, in general? It seems to me, and this is just hazy speculation, that a lot of people float through life without the slightest clue. I can definitely be included in that gene pool. I am young, yes, and so I like to justify myself in saying "Well, I don't have to know what I'm doing just yet. I've got time to figure it out." But what happens when I get old, and I'm still doing the same things, and I don't know why I'm doing them, and...and...PANIC ATTACK.

Just kidding :) But this is something I'd like to try and pay closer attention to in the future. I am, luckily, in the field of education that I think fits me and what I want to get out of a career perfectly. And I understand that not everyone has the opportunity to go to school, and some people are obligated to doing things they don't want to do, for the good of others. We've all been there. But for me personally, I don't want to float through life blissfully unaware. And I don't plan to.

For now, I'll keep on truckin'. And when I find exactly where it is I'm going, I think I'll stop, set up camp, make a fire, and enjoy the marshmallowy goodness of a life well-spent.

To quote a friend of mine, "Cheers".

Stick it to The Man, man.

Hi!

I haven't written in a while, I can see. Perhaps I should change that!

Let's see...what is there to talk about...OH I got it. Let's talk about forgiveness, hm?

Sort of a change of pace, I would like to talk about how important it is to forgive. This basically comes from me being very, very irritated with someone last night. I won't go into detail, but let's just say she messed up and it cost me a good time. I was determined to be mad at her all day, so that she would understand how badly she messed up. I didn't want her to do it again. I didn't want to say "Oh don't worry about it, it's no big deal." Because it was a big deal, to me at least. And sometimes to forgive is confused with to forget, and I sure as anything would not forget.

I suppose my mind changed, though, when she texted me and apologized for her behavior. She told me she wouldn't do it again, and she told me she was really embarrassed. And I know what you're thinking, "Don't trust her, she'll do it again. She's just being nice." Or maybe you aren't thinking that, but I was...

And then I thought, "She's already feeling bad enough, you don't need to make it worse. Don't be mean. You don't have to forget, and you can keep an eye on her for a while, but you can always forgive." So I guess that's what I'm trying to say now. If there is anyone you know whom you are currently holding a grudge against, please don't. I'm not saying act like it's all ok, and it's no big deal, and just forget it even happened. Nobody will learn anything that way. But you should think about it. The person you are mad at may feel horrible, and just be afraid to tell you because they know you are mad at them. If they build up the courage to apologize and ask for forgiveness, you should try and understand. Everybody just wants to be loved.

And now I sound like a hippie. And that's when you know it's time to go to bed.

Peace out y'all