Thanksgiving has never been a huge holiday in my house. My mom dreaded when she had to cook a huge meal for us, and the only part of the meal I was ever interested in were the rolls. My mom was a stay-at-home mom for about five years until she began her current job as a waitress. She started working at the inn when I was about fourteen. Since then, I haven't spent Thanksgiving with my mom. She has worked every holiday for practically six years. When I started working there, I would take her Christmas morning shift so she could sleep in. Then, I would come home and open presents, and eventually make my way over to my dad's house. This has been the norm for me, and for the most part, I don't mind.
I have always thought of Thanksgiving and Easter as pointless holidays. They are just excuses to cook food, and to be honest, I have viewed them as significantly sexist. The women are supposed to cook these lavish meals while the men sit around getting drunk and watching football.
Yay.
I know that isn't the case in every household, but I'm just painting a picture as to why my mom was always a bit perturbed each time she had to cook a very unappreciated meal.
I enjoy the artistic aspect of Easter - coloring eggs is fun. But, not coming from a particularly religious family, we skip out on the fancy meal and family time. And, up until today, I kind of grouped Thanksgiving in with Easter, thinking it was stupid and a waste of time. After all, it is just a celebration of the pilgrims using the Native Americans for all they were worth, then pillaging the shit out of them.
Am I right or am I right?
But, in the midst of scrolling through Facebook on the daily, I see people participating in the "28 Days of Thankfulness" or something of that sort. I first brushed them off, kind of wishing they'd all shut up. But, a friend of mine was very dedicated to it, and I truly enjoyed reading what she had to say. She was thankful for some really valid reasons, and I appreciated that.
I think that us human beings can become so caught up in the negatives. Our society runs on the idea of money and success; the more you have, the better you are. This invisible bar in life is set so God damn high, it's impossible to reach unless you are a super-genius or a professional scam artist (example; click here). Because of this phantom aspiration that seems to rule us all, we are continually left unsatisfied; disappointed. There is no time to count our blessings, or show gratitude towards the people and positives we do have in our lives. We are the age of constant hurry, yet constant struggle. Everything is a race, except nobody wins.
But, seeing the status updates filled with thankfulness has inspired me to reflect on my positives. I am just as human as the rest of our culture, and find myself drowning in the negatives from day to day. Tonight, there will be no negative, there will only be gratitude.
I am so thankful for my health. As another American without health insurance, I am considerably grateful to be in good health. I'm thankful for my friends; old and new. Ben, Hilary, Nicole, Salty, and Leslie: you are my people. Thank you for being my people. Danielle, Ashley, Meg, Tory, Owen and Jack: school is cool because you are all cool. Thank you. To my boyfriend who has stuck with me through the craziest of transitions after transitions, Anthony: I love you, thank you for all you do. You make my world much brighter. Of course, my family: Mom, Erin and Pop (Daddy). I love you three with all my heart and more. My own personal set of stabilizing rocks who shine like jewels, I would do anything for all of you. I am thankful for my education, because there were points where I strayed away from it, but I have found my way back and it lights a pretty damn hot fire under my ass. I am going to be somebody someday because I decided to re-apply to college. I am thankful for both my jobs. Although I am spending my Thanksgiving serving people their meals, I am able to spend the day with my mom and make some money while I am at it. Thank you to the inn for taking me back after all this time, and giving me a job when the need for one is high and the options are slim. Thank you to the ski club, you have been my family for as long as I can remember, and I am so grateful that I can be apart the staff as I enter my adult life. I am thankful for the kids I have in my ski group, you all are too cute and so full of youth. I am inspired by you everyday. Maci, my doggie, I love you! Thank you for making me smile, and wearing all the sweaters I buy you. I am thankful for my landlord, because my house is wonderful and feels like a home, which I haven't experienced in a long time. I give thanks to my intelligence, because even when I feel like a complete moron, I somehow can depict a lesson from it all and turn it into something creative and productive. Without that, I would go even more insane that I know I already am. Meloni and Alan, you have been there for my mom and me through possibly the most difficult times of our lives, and without your kindness and open hearts, I'm not so sure where we would be. Thank you for allowing me to be apart of the birth of your son, because it was truly incredible (and very educational, haha). As petty as it may be, I am thankful for the materialistic aspects of my life too; my car, my computer and my cell phone. They allow me to connect with others and do my work for school, as well as transport me there! Thank you to everyone who has supported me and continues to. Anyone who every gave me a metaphorical - or physical - pat on the back, thank you. You are the stamina that drives me to work towards what I truly want in life. It is the kind words of friends, and strangers, who believe in what I do that keeps me from falling into trenches of doubt. But also, thank you to everyone who never believed in me. Thank you to all the liars, backstabbers and crabs in the bucket who only wanted to bring me down. You have all strengthened me and allowed me to prosper into the confident young woman I am, and continue to become. Thank you for the motivation, because I look forward to proving you all wrong.
To everyone who takes the time to read my blogs, thank you. I may not know who you are, but you add to the ticker on my dashboard, and with each read I am filled with warmth, because you make me feel like what I write matters. I want you to know that although your viewing may feel insignificant to you, it means everything and more to me.
So, thanks.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Golden Eggs
Don't you love those times and experiences that really make you feel good about yourself? The kind that you're almost nervous for, but the outcome ends up being so much better than you could have expected. A competition of some sort, a performance, receiving an A on a paper you thought was crap? I had one of those times today.
I was thrilled when Mrs. Innes - my high school English teacher - asked me to share some of my writing with her AP Language and Composition class. Not only was that my favorite class I ever took in high school, but I was also thrilled to have an opportunity to share some of my writing with an audience, especially and audience of teenagers.
I always felt that being a teenager was such a horrible time. I loathed it. But now, I am intrigued by those people who are right in the middle of it. They have no idea that their passion and angst is at an all time high, and all that extra emotion and energy is so precious and valuable. Some of my best pieces of work came from being a depressed, confused and pissed off sixteen-year-old who had no idea who she was or what she wanted. I am obsessed with the sixteen-year-old me, and I continue to obsess over her because slowly, she is fading. Every day I lose a little bit more of her, because her young, wild and overly emotional mind is becoming nothing but a distant memory to me. I yearn for the creativity I pulled from the countless number of heartbreaks I endured during high school. Not just from relationships either, but from being a failure, growing up and feeling so awfully misunderstood. I don't miss feeling that way, but I miss the art that came from it all.
When I walked into the classroom, I was actually surprised at who was sitting in there, because the last time I saw all these people, they were Freshmen. I had a time-warp moment, and sort of felt old, in turn feeling a bit embarrassed for being back at Profile. I felt juvenile; a student again, feeling guilty for being three minutes late. There was also this sense of judgement radiating from everyone's eyes, and I don't mean that in a negative way. But I could see the gears in their head turning, studying me, another body who used to be one of them who was now a foreign stranger; an adult.
I made an effort to not only look at but truly see all of them. They almost all looked the same, but then again so do I. What shocked me was when they opened their mouths. I was so surprised and impressed by the intelligence each one of them displayed. I respected all their thoughts and suggestions, and smiled at their abilities to articulate the things they were saying. I left the school feeling that I gained more than I shared, but also feeling an urge to kick myself in the face for ever underestimating that they'd give me anything short of amazing feedback.
And suddenly, with force, it hit me.
I was them, once upon a time. I had the baby-faced persona with the beyond-my-years knowledge about writing, and I hated people who underestimated that, and who underestimated me; I still do. I am young, but they are even younger, and I feel like the childish one for ever doubting the intelligence they all possess. How could I suddenly stand on the other side of this invisible line that divides childhood with adulthood? How, and when did I cross over to here? At some point I must have passed through the gate, where they hand you a credit card and a book of sudden-onset rights that come along with adulthood, such as the right to pass judgement onto the younger species.
I'll keep the credit card, but they can have the book back.
It was a pleasure to share with the AP class today. I am thankful they were so kind, and so open to sharing their thoughts. I would hope that they didn't see my surprise by everything they had to say, but I'm sure they probably did. Because I know that adults are paper thin, and I always saw right through them too. They are transparent silhouettes with a sense of entitlement.
Not all, but some.
And now, I am one. I am as see through as the next, but I hope to be one of the few good ones. I understand what it feels like to not be taken seriously because you don't have a high school diploma or a college diploma. I hope to be better than those who took one look at me and never bothered to glance back at the young and even younger-looking female, who wasn't worth their time. But, I was worth it, and I still am, just like all the young people in the classroom today.
I have faith that I will be one of the few eggs made of gold, among the rotten and spoiled rest of them. I can allow myself to believe that, because I understand how it feels to be on the other side of the invisible line; I still remember. And I have a feeling that the entirety of the class I shared with today, are going to suddenly pass through the gate of adulthood and be golden eggs too. I know it, because I was them once, and part of me still is. As much as she fades, and drifts, I hold onto her. I refuse to forget, because once I forget, I will suddenly become what I have always resented.
I saw so much of myself in their eyes today, which allows me to know that they aren't going to rot, and they aren't going to spoil. They will keep shining, glittering, and sparkling. They will stay golden. I know they will hold onto who they were in that classroom today, and become what our society needs.
We need the gold; solid, shiny, beautiful gold. Because honestly, I am tired of looking through the soulless people; the transparency of what they have become, with nothing left to show of who they once were.
If any of you from the AP class are reading this, thank you. I learned lessons today that I doubt I would have ever encountered anywhere else. It was truly a treat to share with you all, although, I think I learned more than I taught. I am grateful for days like today.
I was thrilled when Mrs. Innes - my high school English teacher - asked me to share some of my writing with her AP Language and Composition class. Not only was that my favorite class I ever took in high school, but I was also thrilled to have an opportunity to share some of my writing with an audience, especially and audience of teenagers.
I always felt that being a teenager was such a horrible time. I loathed it. But now, I am intrigued by those people who are right in the middle of it. They have no idea that their passion and angst is at an all time high, and all that extra emotion and energy is so precious and valuable. Some of my best pieces of work came from being a depressed, confused and pissed off sixteen-year-old who had no idea who she was or what she wanted. I am obsessed with the sixteen-year-old me, and I continue to obsess over her because slowly, she is fading. Every day I lose a little bit more of her, because her young, wild and overly emotional mind is becoming nothing but a distant memory to me. I yearn for the creativity I pulled from the countless number of heartbreaks I endured during high school. Not just from relationships either, but from being a failure, growing up and feeling so awfully misunderstood. I don't miss feeling that way, but I miss the art that came from it all.
When I walked into the classroom, I was actually surprised at who was sitting in there, because the last time I saw all these people, they were Freshmen. I had a time-warp moment, and sort of felt old, in turn feeling a bit embarrassed for being back at Profile. I felt juvenile; a student again, feeling guilty for being three minutes late. There was also this sense of judgement radiating from everyone's eyes, and I don't mean that in a negative way. But I could see the gears in their head turning, studying me, another body who used to be one of them who was now a foreign stranger; an adult.
I made an effort to not only look at but truly see all of them. They almost all looked the same, but then again so do I. What shocked me was when they opened their mouths. I was so surprised and impressed by the intelligence each one of them displayed. I respected all their thoughts and suggestions, and smiled at their abilities to articulate the things they were saying. I left the school feeling that I gained more than I shared, but also feeling an urge to kick myself in the face for ever underestimating that they'd give me anything short of amazing feedback.
And suddenly, with force, it hit me.
I was them, once upon a time. I had the baby-faced persona with the beyond-my-years knowledge about writing, and I hated people who underestimated that, and who underestimated me; I still do. I am young, but they are even younger, and I feel like the childish one for ever doubting the intelligence they all possess. How could I suddenly stand on the other side of this invisible line that divides childhood with adulthood? How, and when did I cross over to here? At some point I must have passed through the gate, where they hand you a credit card and a book of sudden-onset rights that come along with adulthood, such as the right to pass judgement onto the younger species.
I'll keep the credit card, but they can have the book back.
It was a pleasure to share with the AP class today. I am thankful they were so kind, and so open to sharing their thoughts. I would hope that they didn't see my surprise by everything they had to say, but I'm sure they probably did. Because I know that adults are paper thin, and I always saw right through them too. They are transparent silhouettes with a sense of entitlement.
Not all, but some.
And now, I am one. I am as see through as the next, but I hope to be one of the few good ones. I understand what it feels like to not be taken seriously because you don't have a high school diploma or a college diploma. I hope to be better than those who took one look at me and never bothered to glance back at the young and even younger-looking female, who wasn't worth their time. But, I was worth it, and I still am, just like all the young people in the classroom today.
I have faith that I will be one of the few eggs made of gold, among the rotten and spoiled rest of them. I can allow myself to believe that, because I understand how it feels to be on the other side of the invisible line; I still remember. And I have a feeling that the entirety of the class I shared with today, are going to suddenly pass through the gate of adulthood and be golden eggs too. I know it, because I was them once, and part of me still is. As much as she fades, and drifts, I hold onto her. I refuse to forget, because once I forget, I will suddenly become what I have always resented.
I saw so much of myself in their eyes today, which allows me to know that they aren't going to rot, and they aren't going to spoil. They will keep shining, glittering, and sparkling. They will stay golden. I know they will hold onto who they were in that classroom today, and become what our society needs.
We need the gold; solid, shiny, beautiful gold. Because honestly, I am tired of looking through the soulless people; the transparency of what they have become, with nothing left to show of who they once were.
If any of you from the AP class are reading this, thank you. I learned lessons today that I doubt I would have ever encountered anywhere else. It was truly a treat to share with you all, although, I think I learned more than I taught. I am grateful for days like today.
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