In an attempt to not care about what other people think, I’ve started saying things that in hindsight were a bit reckless. I’ve annoyed a fair number of people around me, and I’ve realized that I’ve said stupid things in the middle of a sentence and still kept going.
And yet, instead of caring for the welfare of others, I wonder, “Don’t I have the right to say this?”
I’ve recently realized how annoying my voice sounds, but I’m not even sure what the ideal is. High pitched? Happy? Super perfect flawless hair? Both the stereotypes of Asians and girls combined in one? I hate seeing myself on video or audio, which pretty much deprives me of any chance for improvement.
Here’s an excerpt from one of my middle school stories that captures my need to be seen, yet my fear at being perceived for what I was doing
I would exaggerate my actions whenever Timothy was anywhere close in an attempt to catch his attention. Laugh a little harder, speak a little louder, wave my hands more, all while stealing glances in his direction. No response.
From what I could observe, Timothy was a quiet person who kept a small group of friends. If anything, I had to get him to acknowledge me by not being outlandish and crazy, unless I wanted to be perceived as an insane 7th grader. On the other hand, he had no reason for noticing me unless I stood out in some way, say, being outlandish and crazy. (Nevermind actually, like, talking to him.)
It’s easier to not have to worry about what anyone else thinks, but it’s also deluded to completely block out any feedback mechanisms. (cough school system.)
In other news, Ferguson. Whether it was the “right” decision or not, Darren Wilson is still going to have a difficult life ahead of him and it still sparked a national conversation about race, even if the law doesn’t recognize it. I trust the jury to make an informed (not necessarily unbiased) decision, especially since they spent weeks discussing it and understand it better than any of us probably do. I see remnants of the civil rights movement showing through– something unique to the African American experience.
Also, apparently, some sophomores going through WHAP right now found one of my study guides from last year during NaBloPoMo. Wheee I’m famous.