I've been out visiting other bloggers at all hours of the night and day, for hours at a time. Reading the current words of some and archives of others. But today I'm coming home to my blog because school is about to start (in a week), and therefore the reality of my usual life. This blog will continue to be a blow-by-blow of being brown in nursing/midwifery school...ivy league learning while black. But also, I hope, a more integrated testimony of living, period.
While out visiting I found that I talked about things that I never talk about in as much depth here, but also that I have been trying to talk about for years but haven't always had the people to talk about them with, and when I finally found someone who pulled it out of me (wow, looking back, I fought hard, lol) I moved here for school. I don't know how much of that I will bring back here...part of my compartmentalizing...I'm working on it...but I do know that as I continue to bounce around the blogsphere and comment where I'm so moved, I'm growing. And I hope that the people who come here do the same.
My mama was here, and her reading this now I know she is fearful for this upcoming year of blogging. She always is. Fearful. But I get it, it's hard to be anything else while raising children who have it coming to them from their world. It requires a level of work, patience, and knowledge that comes from non-stop reading/evaluating/processing that working class folks rarely have time for.
But she's home now. (It was nice having you here mama...come anytime)
For most of my life I have worked on walking squarly into my fears. So this semester of blogging will hopefully not be hindered by fear.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I think a lot about what our ancestors, from parents on back subconsciously envision/ed for us as they struggle/d through the world trying to survive and live their lives.
I think there's a profound split between what they verbally will admit they were struggling for and what they've probably cried out for in momeents when none save their gawds were looking on and listening.
I think about the admitted struggle for stuff like: better jobs, better health care, less stress, more education, more money, more access to better quality services, less oppression from the state...
But I also think about struggles for stuff like better understanding of their loved ones, better relationships with their siblings, more profound connections to their children and to their children's children, concrete ways to lessen the stress in their lives, a better grasp of what this life really means, a better understanding of why the world works the way it does, more ideas about how to ensure a more rewarding future for their offspring...
There's more, I think I'm responding to the smile I had on my face as I read that your mother had a bit of trepidation about what this year's blogging will hold...
I think that all our parents hope that our lives will hold wondrously fulfilling things, I think we've responded and are responding collectively and individually to some of the stuff on their various lists of unspeakables in ways they couldn't have predicted.
I think our children will do the same.
Loving Pecola? I'm glad you came by. I'm hoping you come back over soon as we have another visitor who is a lovely smart Black man whose blog I found a few weeks back. He's trying to be brave and layered.
I know this week is probably going to speed up as you get closer to the time when you have to go back to school...
But if you have any time, please feel free to come by and wade back into the water.
It's boiling. ;)
Post a Comment