So, this past week was pretty standard. I almost had a full week of class, but a snow storm snatched away Statistics at the last minute. Some are still waiting for power to be restored.
In the midst of the madness, I was blessed to be safe, maintain power, and secure extra time to get work done and have some fun with friends. As always, God is fantastic; the Creator's power seems to never shut down my life. I'm not afraid to continue to be publicly grateful.
A few points of reflection: in my Pro-Seminar class this week, as part of an assignment, we were asked to bring in an item that represents who we are in this process. I knew I didn't want to just bring in anything; I really wanted to bring something that captured the essence of the question to me. After rummaging through ideas, on an unrelated excursion I stuck my hand in my purse and discovered an item that was nothing but perfect. Right there, in the little zipper portion of my bag, sharing a small space with other random gadgets, was a compact mirror in the shape of a heart that I got from a friend's party. I was excited about the simple, yet poignant statement: Love & Reflection! Perfect.
Beyond any research ambitions or PhD title and degree, the idea of being able to consistently take an honest and loving look at myself, and simultaneously reflect love back at the world of others, captures the essence of how I want to show up in everything that I do; the heart shaped mirror was the perfect logo for my life presence and purpose.
On Saturday, I attended a Samba dance class with one of my cohort members. While I chickened out and chose to watch from the sidelines, I still had an awesome time as part of the community for the day. Ironically, the instructor set the tone for the class by inviting participants to allow love and joy to be their guiding mantra for the session. The room quickly filled with a contagious energy as everyone heeded the call to let love and joy ooze freely from every pore of their bodies through movement. There was a mirror that seemed divinely placed in the room that created a dynamic exchange; as the dancers emitted love and joy, they received, and were energized by their reflection. The fusion of Brazilian music and the energy in the atmosphere had me on the verge of bursting into movement from my seat. Even in my non-participation as a dancer, I couldn't contain the power of love and joy that partner danced with my spirit.
As I left the class, I thought, what a powerful way for the universe to reflect that it shared in my vision, dug my purpose, and has solicited others to help progress the movement. Essentially, sticking my hand in a junky purse rendered such a huge treasure; that compact, heart-shaped mirror ignited a series of events affirming the power of love and reflection... I was able to experience it all as God kept the light on in my life, in the midst of a storm and blackout.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
In the Company of First Lady Michelle Obama...Somebody Pinch Me!
At the start of this semester I challenged myself to be who I need to be in order to get the results I want out of this experience. To me, that meant that if I wanted to grow and become like the Professors I admire, and make the contribution to the lives of adolescents that I intend, then I ought to position myself to take advantage of opportunities that will support the creation of this possibility. So, instead of watching nonsense tv, I spend more time reading articles and watching lectures. I also began to take advantage of opportunities to attend events and network with other professionals.
Last Friday, I got an email that presented an opportunity to attend "a special event with representatives of the U.S. State Department and the People’s Republic of China". I received the notice at about 4:30pm, and the email suggested that we rsvp by 5:00 that evening. I did not immediately rsvp, and actually went on to do other things. A part of me decided that the opportunity did not necessarily fit into my area of interest, so I convinced myself that it might be okay if I sat this one out.
At about 4:55pm, I remembered the possibility I created for the semester; I considered that if I were to achieve the greatness that I sought, then I ought to seize opportunities to grasp as much information as possible. I thought about how the panelists at the Tavis Smiley event weren't just well versed in specialized areas, but they had a breadth of knowledge and history across disciplines and cultures. I listened to my gut (the Creator whispering in my ear) and rsvp'd. A short while later I received confirmation of my reservation.
Yesterday evening there was a buzz around campus about the First Lady, Michelle Obama, visiting Howard. When I searched the school website, it was confirmed. She'd be speaking in Cramton auditorium and those interested in attending needed to rsvp with representatives from each school or department. I immediately grew ecstatic; I knew I would be among those privileged to witness this event firsthand, because I heeded the call. At about 6:00pm, I received an email informing me that I had been selected and confirmed to attend. I immediately text my mama!
Needless to say, I couldn't sleep last night, at all. I danced in excitement all the way to my seat, and at about 10:30 this morning she walked onto the stage.
Adorning a navy blue dress with large, sparkling silver sequined accoutrements, Mrs. Michelle Lavaughn Robinson Obama gracefully walked onto the stage to a standing ovation...and I was right there, honored to be a part of it all.
Accompanied by the wife of the Chinese Ambassador to the United States, Chen Naiqing, and a panelist of students who had studied abroad in China, Mrs. Obama shared information about President Obama's initiatives to fund and support American students who study abroad in China. She also talked about what this type of partnership and exchange could mean for the future of the national and global community.
What I took from this experience, was the suggestion to expand the boundaries of my existence. Imposing national parameters on my vision for my contribution to the lives of adolescents of color builds walls around greatness; I can promote healing, love, and joy and support the creation of possibility for youth everywhere.
While writing this, I thought about a recent homework assignment for my Professional Seminar course which asked my classmates and me to write a vision statement, detailing how the world will be different by virtue of me being here. This morning my boyfriend invited me to join an affirmation call that reminded me of the power of speaking things into existence. So, in light of today's experience I will share my vision statement:
"As a product of my being here, individuals, groups, and communities all over the world will know how to listen in to the voices of adolescents, understand their needs and development, and co-create (with these adolescents) community based and international opportunities for young people to safely learn about themselves and make a contribution to the world around them.
Specifically, as a product of my current academic journey, I will make a contribution to discourse on adolescent development and provide concrete models of how individuals, communities, and the nation can invest in the lives of adolescents in ways that addresses issues of self-esteem, youth violence, and the various demonstrations of internalized oppression that manifest in this population."
My mom text me while I was in the audience that my grandparents (all now ancestors) are proud of me; I intend to make them prouder by continuing to work to make the tenets of this vision statement a reality, and then some. Right now, I declare, and own, that I am the possibility of love, commitment, scholarship, contribution, abundance, compassion, and Michelle Lavaughn Robinson Obama fierce!
Last Friday, I got an email that presented an opportunity to attend "a special event with representatives of the U.S. State Department and the People’s Republic of China". I received the notice at about 4:30pm, and the email suggested that we rsvp by 5:00 that evening. I did not immediately rsvp, and actually went on to do other things. A part of me decided that the opportunity did not necessarily fit into my area of interest, so I convinced myself that it might be okay if I sat this one out.
At about 4:55pm, I remembered the possibility I created for the semester; I considered that if I were to achieve the greatness that I sought, then I ought to seize opportunities to grasp as much information as possible. I thought about how the panelists at the Tavis Smiley event weren't just well versed in specialized areas, but they had a breadth of knowledge and history across disciplines and cultures. I listened to my gut (the Creator whispering in my ear) and rsvp'd. A short while later I received confirmation of my reservation.
Yesterday evening there was a buzz around campus about the First Lady, Michelle Obama, visiting Howard. When I searched the school website, it was confirmed. She'd be speaking in Cramton auditorium and those interested in attending needed to rsvp with representatives from each school or department. I immediately grew ecstatic; I knew I would be among those privileged to witness this event firsthand, because I heeded the call. At about 6:00pm, I received an email informing me that I had been selected and confirmed to attend. I immediately text my mama!
Needless to say, I couldn't sleep last night, at all. I danced in excitement all the way to my seat, and at about 10:30 this morning she walked onto the stage.
Adorning a navy blue dress with large, sparkling silver sequined accoutrements, Mrs. Michelle Lavaughn Robinson Obama gracefully walked onto the stage to a standing ovation...and I was right there, honored to be a part of it all.
Accompanied by the wife of the Chinese Ambassador to the United States, Chen Naiqing, and a panelist of students who had studied abroad in China, Mrs. Obama shared information about President Obama's initiatives to fund and support American students who study abroad in China. She also talked about what this type of partnership and exchange could mean for the future of the national and global community.
What I took from this experience, was the suggestion to expand the boundaries of my existence. Imposing national parameters on my vision for my contribution to the lives of adolescents of color builds walls around greatness; I can promote healing, love, and joy and support the creation of possibility for youth everywhere.
While writing this, I thought about a recent homework assignment for my Professional Seminar course which asked my classmates and me to write a vision statement, detailing how the world will be different by virtue of me being here. This morning my boyfriend invited me to join an affirmation call that reminded me of the power of speaking things into existence. So, in light of today's experience I will share my vision statement:
"As a product of my being here, individuals, groups, and communities all over the world will know how to listen in to the voices of adolescents, understand their needs and development, and co-create (with these adolescents) community based and international opportunities for young people to safely learn about themselves and make a contribution to the world around them.
Specifically, as a product of my current academic journey, I will make a contribution to discourse on adolescent development and provide concrete models of how individuals, communities, and the nation can invest in the lives of adolescents in ways that addresses issues of self-esteem, youth violence, and the various demonstrations of internalized oppression that manifest in this population."
My mom text me while I was in the audience that my grandparents (all now ancestors) are proud of me; I intend to make them prouder by continuing to work to make the tenets of this vision statement a reality, and then some. Right now, I declare, and own, that I am the possibility of love, commitment, scholarship, contribution, abundance, compassion, and Michelle Lavaughn Robinson Obama fierce!
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
MLK Jr. Day of Service - Here's to not waiting for Superman!
Last week I attended Tavis Smiley's panel discussion which addressed the question "Is there a brighter future for the next generation?". While listening to the panel of guests, one voice in particular stood out to me. Dr. Cornel West sat on the stage of scholars, journalists, and media personalities and poignantly addressed issues and queries concerning the future of this nation. While his quick wit and keen intellect were alluring, it was his humbling sense of concern for humanity that really struck me. Amid fielding questions about President Obama's performance, international relations, and the Tuscon, Arizona shooting, Dr. West consistently constructed a picture of the faces and conditions of brown people in "Chocolate cities" and pointed out how the care of these (our) communities was central to any hope for a promising tomorrow. I found in this conversation an encouragement to plant wholesome seeds for the next generation rather than idly watch in fear and anger, bracing for what would come.
So, yesterday, instead of basking in a "day off", I participated in a Day of Service with my classmate. At 9:30am we set out to Springarn High School in Northeast, DC. By 10am we gathered in the auditorium with about 200 other volunteers and got our instructions. For about three hours, we transformed the hallways of Springarn by adding fresh yellow and green paint to the halls and bathrooms on the first floor of the building.
While I understood that coats of paint wouldn't cover up the atrocity of America's segregated, poorly funded and under-resourced schools, there was still beauty in this moment. It was precious to look around and notice that mentors had brought mentees, and families had brought little children who delighted in climbing ladders and crawling on floors, using their little hands to get paint into places adults couldn't fit.
Today, while reading an article by Margaret Wheatley, I came across the following:
"For too long, too many of us have been entranced by heroes. Perhaps it’s our desire to be saved, to not have to do the hard work, to rely on someone else to figure things out. Constantly we are barraged by politicians presenting themselves as heroes, the ones who will fix everything and make our problems go away. It’s a seductive image, an enticing promise. And we keep believing it. Somewhere there’s someone who will make it all better. Somewhere, there’s someone who’s visionary, inspiring, brilliant, trustworthy, and we’ll all happily follow him or her. Somewhere…
Well, it is time for all the heroes to go home, as the poet William Stafford wrote. It is time for us to give up these hopes and expectations that only breed dependency and passivity, and that do not give us solutions to the challenges we face. It is time to stop waiting for someone to save us. It is time to face the truth of our situation—that we’re all in this together, that we all have a voice—and figure out how to mobilize the hearts and minds of everyone in our workplaces and communities".
I reflected on yesterday's day of service as an opportunity to be among a group of individuals who at least took one day not to wait on Superman. I imagined that the students who attend Springarn High School would have been able to walk in their building today and see the fruits of labor of people who unearthed themselves from the myth of the hero, "[faced] the truth of the situation" and banded together to make a difference, one bright yellow and green stroke at a time.
So, yesterday, instead of basking in a "day off", I participated in a Day of Service with my classmate. At 9:30am we set out to Springarn High School in Northeast, DC. By 10am we gathered in the auditorium with about 200 other volunteers and got our instructions. For about three hours, we transformed the hallways of Springarn by adding fresh yellow and green paint to the halls and bathrooms on the first floor of the building.
While I understood that coats of paint wouldn't cover up the atrocity of America's segregated, poorly funded and under-resourced schools, there was still beauty in this moment. It was precious to look around and notice that mentors had brought mentees, and families had brought little children who delighted in climbing ladders and crawling on floors, using their little hands to get paint into places adults couldn't fit.
Today, while reading an article by Margaret Wheatley, I came across the following:
"For too long, too many of us have been entranced by heroes. Perhaps it’s our desire to be saved, to not have to do the hard work, to rely on someone else to figure things out. Constantly we are barraged by politicians presenting themselves as heroes, the ones who will fix everything and make our problems go away. It’s a seductive image, an enticing promise. And we keep believing it. Somewhere there’s someone who will make it all better. Somewhere, there’s someone who’s visionary, inspiring, brilliant, trustworthy, and we’ll all happily follow him or her. Somewhere…
Well, it is time for all the heroes to go home, as the poet William Stafford wrote. It is time for us to give up these hopes and expectations that only breed dependency and passivity, and that do not give us solutions to the challenges we face. It is time to stop waiting for someone to save us. It is time to face the truth of our situation—that we’re all in this together, that we all have a voice—and figure out how to mobilize the hearts and minds of everyone in our workplaces and communities".
I reflected on yesterday's day of service as an opportunity to be among a group of individuals who at least took one day not to wait on Superman. I imagined that the students who attend Springarn High School would have been able to walk in their building today and see the fruits of labor of people who unearthed themselves from the myth of the hero, "[faced] the truth of the situation" and banded together to make a difference, one bright yellow and green stroke at a time.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Action!
So, yesterday of course I had another scare. Basically same story. Get to school, ghost town, classmate comes, class time arrives, no teacher shows, "Is this a practical joke?"....and then finally a different ending: teacher arrives a little late, but, ACTION! The ribbon has been cut, second semester is officially open for business!
At first, I brace myself for this new personality that would be providing my formal instruction for the next five months. She walks in, HUGE ENERGY, and starts firing away. After an apologetic introduction, she gets to business. Dispersed throughout her rapid-fire monologue are lines of her extensive and solid curriculum vitae; pretty impressive. The first half an hour I am quite present to the lump in my throat and the stereotypes running through my brain; I'm sizing her up, and she appears to be doing the same to the class of two gathered in her presence. Mid-judgement, I catch myself and then begin to run my own monologue on top of the one that's already happening in my brain, questioning why I'm going through sooo much self-talk and anxiety. I breathe. Surrender my thoughts to the moment, and then really begin to experience what's happening before me, in real time.
As we walk through the syllabus and the format of the class, I emotionally transition back to that place of yearning; the one where I was eager to soak up knowledge and transform it into some form of contribution.
Needless to say, by the end of the class I returned to the essence of me being here. Three hours whisked by and I lingered in my chair for a few moments at the end of the lecture and thanked God for the reminder. No more hoping for snow days to interfere with academia; in my seat I can taste the beauty of privilege manifest in this opportunity that I have to learn! Attitude checked. Gratitude in motion. Ready to proceed. Action!
(P.S.
To top it all off, after an inspiring day at school, I got a chance to attend a panel discussion hosted by Tavis Smiley with Dr. Cornel West as one of the distinguished guests at George Washington University Lisner Auditorium. Brilliant, just brilliant. Thanks Creator for such wonderful and unceasing gifts; the way God treats my life makes it feel as if everyday is my birthday!)
At first, I brace myself for this new personality that would be providing my formal instruction for the next five months. She walks in, HUGE ENERGY, and starts firing away. After an apologetic introduction, she gets to business. Dispersed throughout her rapid-fire monologue are lines of her extensive and solid curriculum vitae; pretty impressive. The first half an hour I am quite present to the lump in my throat and the stereotypes running through my brain; I'm sizing her up, and she appears to be doing the same to the class of two gathered in her presence. Mid-judgement, I catch myself and then begin to run my own monologue on top of the one that's already happening in my brain, questioning why I'm going through sooo much self-talk and anxiety. I breathe. Surrender my thoughts to the moment, and then really begin to experience what's happening before me, in real time.
As we walk through the syllabus and the format of the class, I emotionally transition back to that place of yearning; the one where I was eager to soak up knowledge and transform it into some form of contribution.
Needless to say, by the end of the class I returned to the essence of me being here. Three hours whisked by and I lingered in my chair for a few moments at the end of the lecture and thanked God for the reminder. No more hoping for snow days to interfere with academia; in my seat I can taste the beauty of privilege manifest in this opportunity that I have to learn! Attitude checked. Gratitude in motion. Ready to proceed. Action!
(P.S.
To top it all off, after an inspiring day at school, I got a chance to attend a panel discussion hosted by Tavis Smiley with Dr. Cornel West as one of the distinguished guests at George Washington University Lisner Auditorium. Brilliant, just brilliant. Thanks Creator for such wonderful and unceasing gifts; the way God treats my life makes it feel as if everyday is my birthday!)
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
First Day, Take 2 - Where are the hidden cameras?
So, I'll admit, while I was watching the much anticipated (and kind of disappointing) season premiere of The Game I was secretly praying that the snow was going to escalate and lead to school closing. I closed all of the blinds in my apartment so that when I woke up this morning I would be pleasantly surprised by the mounds of snow covering the streets.
6:30 am the alarm goes off...twenty minutes and five snoozes later I get out the bed...only a dusting! SMH. Nonetheless, I check my email to discover that school will have a delayed opening; my 9:10 class won't start until 10:00am. Fair enough. I arrive at school at about 9:50am and, minus the custodial staff, it's pretty much a ghost town. The classroom door is locked, and there's no trace of a teacher in sight. Another classmate arrives about ten minutes later. At about 10:20 am when no one else arrives, we start to wonder. We check our schedules to confirm the room and class time, everything adds up, but something must be wrong.
Apparently, you can't trust the school registration system because it just might misinform you of the day of your class. To say the least, I have to do it all over again tomorrow.
To make the most of the day I decide to head to the financial aid office to make sure everything is in order. Although, I'm still convinced that God has jokes, I also believe there are no mistakes. Thankfully, a computer error got me to school today just in time to get on line with student accounts before the rush. But of course, never a dull moment.
Long story short, while there's evidence of the tuition I'm supposed to receive in the computer where everyone can see it, for some reason it's not accessible. Of course, the financial aid office would only have ONE WOMAN who could explain what's wrong, and she JUST HAPPENED not to be at work today! Incredible!!!!
So essentially, at this point, I'm convinced that there's an Ashton Kutcher out here somewhere. You got me, I've been punked! I'll be back tomorrow; hopefully with an entry about an actual first day of school and a successful solution to the case of the disappearing funding.
To be continued....again!
6:30 am the alarm goes off...twenty minutes and five snoozes later I get out the bed...only a dusting! SMH. Nonetheless, I check my email to discover that school will have a delayed opening; my 9:10 class won't start until 10:00am. Fair enough. I arrive at school at about 9:50am and, minus the custodial staff, it's pretty much a ghost town. The classroom door is locked, and there's no trace of a teacher in sight. Another classmate arrives about ten minutes later. At about 10:20 am when no one else arrives, we start to wonder. We check our schedules to confirm the room and class time, everything adds up, but something must be wrong.
Apparently, you can't trust the school registration system because it just might misinform you of the day of your class. To say the least, I have to do it all over again tomorrow.
To make the most of the day I decide to head to the financial aid office to make sure everything is in order. Although, I'm still convinced that God has jokes, I also believe there are no mistakes. Thankfully, a computer error got me to school today just in time to get on line with student accounts before the rush. But of course, never a dull moment.
Long story short, while there's evidence of the tuition I'm supposed to receive in the computer where everyone can see it, for some reason it's not accessible. Of course, the financial aid office would only have ONE WOMAN who could explain what's wrong, and she JUST HAPPENED not to be at work today! Incredible!!!!
So essentially, at this point, I'm convinced that there's an Ashton Kutcher out here somewhere. You got me, I've been punked! I'll be back tomorrow; hopefully with an entry about an actual first day of school and a successful solution to the case of the disappearing funding.
To be continued....again!
Monday, January 10, 2011
First Day, Second Semester, Take 1
So, remember back in the day when the day before the first day of school used to feel like Christmas? I remember getting excited about opening the packages of crisp new school clothes and taking fresh, shiny shoes out the box that had been off limits all summer (although for nine years of my life this outfit consisted of a brown and yellow plaid uniform with matching thick brown tights and brown shoes, it was still exciting).
Well, yesterday I definitely didn't pop any tags, and wasn't so sure where I could even buy a trace of excitement about school. It was more like a stomach churning, feet dragging, holding on to every last micro-second of vacation I could possibly find sensation that characterized my pre-first-day mood. I guess I was a little nervous, anxious about starting up again. I remembered that God-awful last few weeks of the first semester, and how every day felt like eons away from the end, and I soooooo wasn't excited about going there again. Nonetheless, at about 1:30 pm, after a half-hour siesta, I picked myself up, pulled some absolutely un-new jeans and a long sleeve shirt out of the closet, put them on top of layers of clothes to help me brace the frigid temperatures, and I was on my way.
The whole journey to the train station I worked on preparing myself. I talked to God and asked for guidance, clarity, and any kind of HELP She wanted to hook a sister up with. For some reason, that trip to school that I'd been taking for the past five months all of a sudden seemed kind of foreign; I had to re-orient myself. "If I'm getting off at U-Street that's the front of the train. If I'm getting off at Shaw-Howard University I need to get to the back. Got it. U Street it is"; I talked myself through it and made it to my destination.
I set out a little early because my first class would be in a building I'd never been in before; good thing I did because I definitely got lost trying to find the classroom. At about 2:55 pm I made it to the door of the class. I step inside to find someone else was already there. I greeted the student and prepared to take a seat, of which there were plenty to choose. I think I got both of my gloves off before the classroom door opened again. In walked another person who looked like a student. He greeted the other student, made small talk with him, and then proceeded to inform the class (all two of us) that he was sent by the Professor to tell us that we wouldn't be having class. Yup, cancelled....until January 24th! I could not believe it. All of that work to get here, just to go right back home! God got jokes! I could have complained, but I calmed myself and acknowledged that there could have been an emergency responsible for this experience; I also quit my mental rant once I realized that I definitely did not travel the two hours that the other student traveled to get to class and had to repeat to get home.
Needless to say, it turned out to be a pretty awesome first day; kind of like Christmas anyway! Now if only we can conjure up some of this wintery, wonderland snow for Wednesday...Happy Kwanzaa to me!
First Day...to be continued!
Well, yesterday I definitely didn't pop any tags, and wasn't so sure where I could even buy a trace of excitement about school. It was more like a stomach churning, feet dragging, holding on to every last micro-second of vacation I could possibly find sensation that characterized my pre-first-day mood. I guess I was a little nervous, anxious about starting up again. I remembered that God-awful last few weeks of the first semester, and how every day felt like eons away from the end, and I soooooo wasn't excited about going there again. Nonetheless, at about 1:30 pm, after a half-hour siesta, I picked myself up, pulled some absolutely un-new jeans and a long sleeve shirt out of the closet, put them on top of layers of clothes to help me brace the frigid temperatures, and I was on my way.
The whole journey to the train station I worked on preparing myself. I talked to God and asked for guidance, clarity, and any kind of HELP She wanted to hook a sister up with. For some reason, that trip to school that I'd been taking for the past five months all of a sudden seemed kind of foreign; I had to re-orient myself. "If I'm getting off at U-Street that's the front of the train. If I'm getting off at Shaw-Howard University I need to get to the back. Got it. U Street it is"; I talked myself through it and made it to my destination.
I set out a little early because my first class would be in a building I'd never been in before; good thing I did because I definitely got lost trying to find the classroom. At about 2:55 pm I made it to the door of the class. I step inside to find someone else was already there. I greeted the student and prepared to take a seat, of which there were plenty to choose. I think I got both of my gloves off before the classroom door opened again. In walked another person who looked like a student. He greeted the other student, made small talk with him, and then proceeded to inform the class (all two of us) that he was sent by the Professor to tell us that we wouldn't be having class. Yup, cancelled....until January 24th! I could not believe it. All of that work to get here, just to go right back home! God got jokes! I could have complained, but I calmed myself and acknowledged that there could have been an emergency responsible for this experience; I also quit my mental rant once I realized that I definitely did not travel the two hours that the other student traveled to get to class and had to repeat to get home.
Needless to say, it turned out to be a pretty awesome first day; kind of like Christmas anyway! Now if only we can conjure up some of this wintery, wonderland snow for Wednesday...Happy Kwanzaa to me!
First Day...to be continued!
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