Me and U

U has left some comments on the previous post...I'm going to respond here...first, here's a glimpse of my description of U, who I have spoken of here on this blog before:

I think sometimes defensiveness is a protective mechanism elicited to keep from having to feel all that stuff that you have only just been confronted with in this, your (first?) attempt at friendship with someone who shares the same skin as you but not the same upper-middle class/beautiful text-book diversity of color west coast neighborhood/very little KKK-esque racism upbringing...and does not feel the need to ignore that to make you feel better. I hope you continue to talk about what it is you liked and didn't like about the life you've lived. I also hope our conversations become messier, less safe, less defensive...more real...as time goes on. But even if it doesn't, there is love, because even without naked, vulnerable conversations, we are here, black women, learning midwifery together…

Hey U!

After reading the comments I was tense. I compartmentalize a lot. I saw blog world and school world colliding, and it didn’t feel good. But that’s neither here nor there in this moment, because I want to respond:

There is no one “why” that I’m doing this (planning to pursue a PhD). There are many reasons why I might be doing it, but those reasons are still being processed. One might think they know why they’re doing something, but as time goes on they may gain clarity enough to say “oh, maybe I’m doing this because I want the status that comes with it…and not just because I want to help inner city pregnant teens…” and one comes to that realization by seeing, learning, that it is entirely possible to do what she says she wants to do without a PhD. Why am I talking as though I’m not talking about myself? Crazy. I have a lot of reasons for coming to this institution, and a lot of reasons for planning to pursue a PhD afterwards. The why is not solid, even though you think it is. For everything I’ve told you I want to do with this education after graduation, there are ten things that I haven’t shared. But not even that matters, all that matters is that I…I…say that I am unclear about exactly why I’m getting a PhD. That’s only for me to say. You’re right I’m working on how to survive this current experience. But that’s not to say that figuring this out is going to provide me with a road map for surviving a doctoral program. Sure, they’re similar, but definitely not the same. If this program is soup, the doctoral program is gumbo…you eat them differently…you can swallow soup without chewing if necessary…you could never do that with gumbo…

The last half of that comment…my, my, my. We already know that we differ on a lot of stuff. I’m not interested in going along just to get along and I work hard to wear the mask less often (hence the ease and smoothness of how my “no’s” are coming out, even to the dean ;o)…I’m not interested in learning new ways to move in silence…and the very real threat of someone spitting in my food for agitating or questioning them isn’t going to automatically make me shut up…for every restaurant and job, there is another. You don’t have to sit there and be nice, U, you can get up and walk out. I’ve been thinking a lot about that whole idea of not being “fake” as long as you’re telling yourself the truth…I remember we talked about this in terms of playing the grad school game…about telling yourself the truth no matter what lies you’re telling someone else…but let me be clear about something…there is a price to be paid for wearing the mask…for smiling when you don’t mean it, for saying things that go against your soul, for sitting silent…even when you fear someone pissing in your ice tea…there is a cost…and I think you’re already paying it. Your rituals surrounding being presentable and your concern about other people’s perception of you are an example of how your “being a chameleon” has not left your identity untouched. One way I’m paying for it is through the constant reprogramming required to separate the lie I tell them on occasion from the truths I’m trying to tell myself and the energy that takes away from other things more worthwhile and a million other ways.

It’s weird to hear you talk about allowing this experience to change me. It makes me cringe. Not because I think I am supposed to come through this experience as the exact same person I came in as, but because I’m imagining what it means to you that I grow in this experience. I’m imagining what values you think I came in with that it would be better for me to grow out of. I just explained to the man what I’m trying to say…it was so direct and so clear but I think my way of speaking straight, no matter how uncomfortable for others in person, is probably worse in writing…and I’m being conscious because I know that in the comments you were trying to take up for me :o) But I want to say, I am absolutely trying to keep the most salient aspects of who I am which is inseparable from where I come from as I go through here and beyond. I think that might be uncomfortable for you? Aren’t people like me, from where I’m from, supposed to want to “better” themselves through school…and wouldn’t it be sad if I didn’t take this opportunity to come out the other end changed? (sarcasm)

To stop being Loving Pecola from Maple Street is not growth to me. I’m not trying to come through this experience a washed up, blanched out, supremely educated, mannerized, nodding, replica of everyone else. Learning how to smile and nod and keep my kool-aid free of spit is not the goal. Maybe you’re thinking “that’s not what I meant!” But that’s what I see you inadvertently asking… I’m not interested in being a chameleon…blending into the background wherever I am…I already did that, in my teens. That’s my idea of losing yourself. Losing yourself to the background…where you’re supposed to be. I’d love to say that to blend into everyone else’s background is not your destiny, but I’ll let you decide that for yourself. I know it is not mine. So, you see, I’ve already lost myself love, now I’m finding myself.