I've never felt comfortable in my skin. It's like I'm visiting this world from another galaxy and just landed in this body out of chance. Of course, I don't really believe that, but it's an interesting facet of my psyche to consider. Maybe the origin of this thinking comes from the fact that I came to America at the age of six not knowing an iota of the English language.
Because of this alien mentality of mine, one of my earliest memories in America were those where I watched my classmates so that I could understand what was appropriate. I started watching and listening. I learned to speak English very quickly doing that -- I was out of English for Speakers of Other Languages within five months of starting first grade! I also learned what my classmates called shooting a bird! At least I was learning.
Because of this alien mentality of mine, one of my earliest memories in America were those where I watched my classmates so that I could understand what was appropriate. I started watching and listening. I learned to speak English very quickly doing that -- I was out of English for Speakers of Other Languages within five months of starting first grade! I also learned what my classmates called shooting a bird! At least I was learning.
In second grade, when I had a crush on a boy named John, I thought about what people did when they liked each other. People kissed, so I kissed John one day when he passed me between classes. I knew no other way to tell him how I felt about him. I didn't get the reaction I expected. No one had dared me. No one was watching. It was just very stalkerish of me and I had no logical explanation for what I had done. After that, I stopped acting on my initial reactions. I no longer allowed myself the luxury to be spontaneous and tell the truth.
Then, in sixth grade, I elevated my watching skills to storytelling skills. I wrote a book about a girl who solved mysteries and started making up chapter stories to entertain myself during my lonely lunches at a new school. When I got to college six years later, I got my degree in storytelling -- well, sort of. I became a journalist. But that still wasn't enough for me. I needed more. After a lifetime of watching and listening I've written my observations into stories that are awaiting discovery and publication. What a waste! There's so much more I could do with them!
The reason I began this blog was to highlight the good deeds of my high school students. The thing is, not everything I observe is a good deed. Sometimes it's something sad or something that needs to be changed. I was limiting myself, but I continue to observe.
Then, in sixth grade, I elevated my watching skills to storytelling skills. I wrote a book about a girl who solved mysteries and started making up chapter stories to entertain myself during my lonely lunches at a new school. When I got to college six years later, I got my degree in storytelling -- well, sort of. I became a journalist. But that still wasn't enough for me. I needed more. After a lifetime of watching and listening I've written my observations into stories that are awaiting discovery and publication. What a waste! There's so much more I could do with them!
The reason I began this blog was to highlight the good deeds of my high school students. The thing is, not everything I observe is a good deed. Sometimes it's something sad or something that needs to be changed. I was limiting myself, but I continue to observe.
It's time to change things.
The title of this blog remains the same, Stand For Something Now, but it's more a message to myself. If I feel strongly about something or somebody, it will find its way to this page. I'm allowing myself the freedom to become that little second grader who just wanted to tell John she liked him. My comments will be reasonably unscripted and off-the-cuff, in a way, but they will all be about what I watch and listen to as I go through life.
The title of this blog remains the same, Stand For Something Now, but it's more a message to myself. If I feel strongly about something or somebody, it will find its way to this page. I'm allowing myself the freedom to become that little second grader who just wanted to tell John she liked him. My comments will be reasonably unscripted and off-the-cuff, in a way, but they will all be about what I watch and listen to as I go through life.
This blog will be the musings of a woman who still considers herself an alien in this world, although I am learning to allow myself the occasional act of spontaneiety. Therefore, this entry today serves as a warning to the people who encounter me at any time during my day -- watch out. You may end up in print!
All good writers are watchers first!!
ReplyDeleteMay your writing fly!