You’re not invincible. Stop assuming that “it” will never happen to you. Anything can happen, including the bad. Even if you’re smart, careful, and always on top of your game, curveballs will still be thrown at you and you could strike out.
As much as I was prepared for “it,” and as much as I knew about “it,” I still never thought “it” would happen to me. Contrary to popular belief, in Catholic school, they teach us a LOT about sex, drugs, assault, and alcohol, (sometimes more than we’d like, sometimes just to scare us); the “its” in the world that could scar us and taint our lives. They would test us and make us question our faith in the world and in ourselves. These are the same “its” that our parents warn us about when we’re young, but protect us from until we’re ready to face them alone. The truth is... you'll never really be ready.
I was 18 years old when I found out that I’m no superman. Nothing truly bad had ever really happened to me before; no broken bones, broken homes, or even broken hearts darkened my doorstep. And then “it” happened. Assault by someone you know is much more common than assault by a complete stranger; isn’t that scary? I knew him and I knew he liked me. I never thought he would hit me. We weren’t dating, we were barely even friends. We hardly spoke aside from the time we spent together with our mutual friends.
I wasn’t bruised after this happened nor was I really even injured; my head hurt though. Mostly, I remember being shocked. I remember feeling afraid and shaken. Did that just happen to me? Did “it” just happen to me? I became distrustful of people and I lost my faith in the goodness I used to recognize so easily in others. Honestly, I’m still not the same person, but I’m okay with that. I know better now. Yes, it was a terrible experience, one that I wouldn’t wish on anyone, but it made me realize that I am just as human as the victims I read about in the news paper. And while I may be stronger now, I'm still no superman and neither are you.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Do Something Crazy
“Once you become predictable, no one’s interested anymore.” – Chet Atkins. Yes, it’s slightly harsh, but true.
On the very first day of my very first Political Science class, my professor asked everyone to form a circle around the room and to announce an unusual secret to the entire class. Upon this request, I was ready to label this guy as religious conservative trying to get us to do some kind of spiritual cleansing before the new school year. With that in mind I said something safe; I said, “My hair color has been 6 different colors in the past 4 years, including green.” He announced, “I’m gay and have two children.” Damn, I fail.
After class, my peers were engaged in conversation focused around our teacher’s sex life and other secrets revealed around the “circle of truth.” I, however, was still baffled by the exercise in general. Why did he want us to tell a group of strangers something so personal about ourselves? How could he expect me to do that? Then, I realized he was trying to get us get engaged about something seemingly mundane, like a classroom icebreaker, by being unpredictable.
This first day in class inspired me to think beyond pomp and circumstance and to throw away what society dictates as “acceptable.” I thought to myself, maybe I need to start taking more chances in the classroom and in life. However, I, an alumna of a strong Catholic, (and secretly Republican), education, struggled to expand my mind around the idea of “stepping outside the box.” I found comfort in rules and conventions. I liked surrounding myself in familiar places, even that college was a safety zone for me.Since that first year, I’ve transferred schools and decided I’m not as predictable as I was raised to be. Most recently, I’ve been accepted to study abroad at the London School of Economics and Political Science and to intern for Parliament. Yes – bold, daring, and no longer predictable, much like that first day of class. Predictability is a comfort zone that we too often find ourselves in. In college, “Do something crazy,” (preferably not a keg stand), and make it worth your time. I did and now I’m no longer just the girl with formerly green hair.
On the very first day of my very first Political Science class, my professor asked everyone to form a circle around the room and to announce an unusual secret to the entire class. Upon this request, I was ready to label this guy as religious conservative trying to get us to do some kind of spiritual cleansing before the new school year. With that in mind I said something safe; I said, “My hair color has been 6 different colors in the past 4 years, including green.” He announced, “I’m gay and have two children.” Damn, I fail.
After class, my peers were engaged in conversation focused around our teacher’s sex life and other secrets revealed around the “circle of truth.” I, however, was still baffled by the exercise in general. Why did he want us to tell a group of strangers something so personal about ourselves? How could he expect me to do that? Then, I realized he was trying to get us get engaged about something seemingly mundane, like a classroom icebreaker, by being unpredictable.
This first day in class inspired me to think beyond pomp and circumstance and to throw away what society dictates as “acceptable.” I thought to myself, maybe I need to start taking more chances in the classroom and in life. However, I, an alumna of a strong Catholic, (and secretly Republican), education, struggled to expand my mind around the idea of “stepping outside the box.” I found comfort in rules and conventions. I liked surrounding myself in familiar places, even that college was a safety zone for me.Since that first year, I’ve transferred schools and decided I’m not as predictable as I was raised to be. Most recently, I’ve been accepted to study abroad at the London School of Economics and Political Science and to intern for Parliament. Yes – bold, daring, and no longer predictable, much like that first day of class. Predictability is a comfort zone that we too often find ourselves in. In college, “Do something crazy,” (preferably not a keg stand), and make it worth your time. I did and now I’m no longer just the girl with formerly green hair.
Friday, October 9, 2009
What You Know and What You Don't
My fifth grade English teacher once told me, “you should write about what you know.” When I got to my Sophomore year of college, my Philosophy professor quoted Socrates stating, “a wise man knows he knows nothing.” While these two statements appear confusing, they actually make perfect sense in my mind. What these wise mentors meant to say was, “Know your shit.” The power of knowledge is hindered by ignorance and assumption. I recall a time when lesson this hit me the hardest.
Freshman year of college, I was sitting in a religious studies class debating the implications of the death penalty, premarital sex, and other concerns of the Church. I, a bold and audacious student, spoke feverishly of the power of generosity in regards to the topic of poverty. I said, “I feel like those with the ability to alter society for the better have an unspoken duty to usher in that change. Wealthy people are privileged enough to carry that responsibility.” Another student looked at me harshly, gazing at my Coach tote bag and BCBG jacket. She responded, “and what would you know about that?” I angrily responded, “and who are you to judge me?” She stood up and read me the riot act shortly after. Her uncle in prison, her mother raising her alone, etc.
She continued to make comments about me, assuming that I was brought up with a silver spoon in my mouth. I tried to defend myself but she continued on. I finally stood up and yelled, “Do attacks on my life have anything to do with the original question?!” The most gregarious and belligerent student in the class then spoke. He said, “In the end, what she means is… if you.. a person like you… saw someone on the street begging for your last dollar, would you give it to them?” I was taken back by this immediately. I took a breath, and I could feel all the eyes in the room looking, waiting for an answer. I fought the tears back in my own eyes and said, “It’s funny that you ask that because I took a trip to Boston this past weekend. The Sunday I’m supposed to go home to New Jersey, I went to church. The reading in the Gospel that day was about Jesus recognizing a widower who gave her last bit of money to the donation box at the temple. Jesus said to his disciples, "that woman gave the most of anyone that day." After I heard that passage, I looked into my bag and saw what little money I had left from a weekend in Boston. I left church that day and went back to New Jersey without a penny.” The entire class went silent, the obnoxious girl and boy who attacked me no more than a minute ago were flabbergasted. This was the only time in my life I ever walked out in the middle of class.
Since that day, I try not to assume anything of people or pass judgment too quickly. Last year at my current college, I was again faced with this issue. This taught me that people will always “think they know.” Don’t give them that opportunity and at the same time don’t allow yourself to become one of them. Be humble. Know that you do not know everything and that it’s okay.
Freshman year of college, I was sitting in a religious studies class debating the implications of the death penalty, premarital sex, and other concerns of the Church. I, a bold and audacious student, spoke feverishly of the power of generosity in regards to the topic of poverty. I said, “I feel like those with the ability to alter society for the better have an unspoken duty to usher in that change. Wealthy people are privileged enough to carry that responsibility.” Another student looked at me harshly, gazing at my Coach tote bag and BCBG jacket. She responded, “and what would you know about that?” I angrily responded, “and who are you to judge me?” She stood up and read me the riot act shortly after. Her uncle in prison, her mother raising her alone, etc.
She continued to make comments about me, assuming that I was brought up with a silver spoon in my mouth. I tried to defend myself but she continued on. I finally stood up and yelled, “Do attacks on my life have anything to do with the original question?!” The most gregarious and belligerent student in the class then spoke. He said, “In the end, what she means is… if you.. a person like you… saw someone on the street begging for your last dollar, would you give it to them?” I was taken back by this immediately. I took a breath, and I could feel all the eyes in the room looking, waiting for an answer. I fought the tears back in my own eyes and said, “It’s funny that you ask that because I took a trip to Boston this past weekend. The Sunday I’m supposed to go home to New Jersey, I went to church. The reading in the Gospel that day was about Jesus recognizing a widower who gave her last bit of money to the donation box at the temple. Jesus said to his disciples, "that woman gave the most of anyone that day." After I heard that passage, I looked into my bag and saw what little money I had left from a weekend in Boston. I left church that day and went back to New Jersey without a penny.” The entire class went silent, the obnoxious girl and boy who attacked me no more than a minute ago were flabbergasted. This was the only time in my life I ever walked out in the middle of class.
Since that day, I try not to assume anything of people or pass judgment too quickly. Last year at my current college, I was again faced with this issue. This taught me that people will always “think they know.” Don’t give them that opportunity and at the same time don’t allow yourself to become one of them. Be humble. Know that you do not know everything and that it’s okay.
Monday, October 5, 2009
A New Beginning
If, in life, you become frustrated and lost, sometimes you're lucky enough to find yourself again. This rejuvination enlightens you and, more importantly, inspires you to develop strong character and integrity, academically, professionally and above all, personally. This is where that new chapter in my life begins.
For the past three years, I've been in recovery from a year that altered my life in so many ways. Of that fateful year, I have no regrets or sorrows; I only keep the memories and the hard lessons learned. I sometimes find it difficult to express what happened to me or how it happened, but that's not what this blog is about. Instead, it's about how these events affect me now and how I'm constantly attempting to grow and to change.
Since then, I've been inspired by an important life lesson that I'd like to begin this blog with: when one negative thought or action occurs, throw back two more positives. It's simple, yes, but powerful. Regularly, I'd become angry or overly-emotional about frivilous things that, in the end, really made no huge difference in my life. My pent-up emotion weighed me down constantly and affected everything else I did or tried to accomplish. I hope that this blog will serve as a step to fullfill that positive lifestyle I want to lead. Maybe I'll learn a little more and in the end, heal a little more.
For the past three years, I've been in recovery from a year that altered my life in so many ways. Of that fateful year, I have no regrets or sorrows; I only keep the memories and the hard lessons learned. I sometimes find it difficult to express what happened to me or how it happened, but that's not what this blog is about. Instead, it's about how these events affect me now and how I'm constantly attempting to grow and to change.
Since then, I've been inspired by an important life lesson that I'd like to begin this blog with: when one negative thought or action occurs, throw back two more positives. It's simple, yes, but powerful. Regularly, I'd become angry or overly-emotional about frivilous things that, in the end, really made no huge difference in my life. My pent-up emotion weighed me down constantly and affected everything else I did or tried to accomplish. I hope that this blog will serve as a step to fullfill that positive lifestyle I want to lead. Maybe I'll learn a little more and in the end, heal a little more.
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