****NOTE****I have re-posted Week 10: Hospital blog. I got a lot of heat from the post so I chose to set it to private. Nevertheless, I “can’t stop, wont stop” from having my voice. If I have to lie low and refrain from speaking my mind in my current situation, I will at least keep it real on my blog. I refuse to sit back, being belittled or ostracized until my voice is but a whisper. As Nas says, “I. WILL. NOT. LOSE.”
My mom is a single mother of four. She successfully raised up three children into adults and is still continuing to raise Shani who just turned 12. She survived through the death of her husband at age 26, dealt with my father leaving her during her pregnancy, and lived through a draining divorce while my little sister was still in diapers. My mom is strong. As a result of my mom keeping on through the tough times and all times, we–her kids–all possess strong characters and are highly opinionated (stubborn).
Despite the problems America faces and my need to periodically flee my home country, I couldn’t be more thankful I was raised in America. Sometimes it takes being removed from an environment or situation before actually realizing how “good you have it.” This is said in catch 22 terms; all the “(gasps) how could you ever say…” remarks I get from the Korean head-foreign teacher have me exhausted. On the other hand, I realize everything is a learning experience and my character will grow if I persevere. If I were to give in to my frustrations and transitory negative emotions to terminate my contract, I would look back in hind sight probably realizing “how good I had it.” Perspective is needed at every turn.
Nevertheless, many foreigners feel the ‘system’ has many faults, a lack of voice being one of them. Raised in the ghetto, I had to fight negative criticism of my neighborhood and high school to rise to the top. Just as Nas says, “I know I can / Be what I want to be / If I work hard at it / I’ll be where I want to be” (I can). How did I get into Willamette University? Yes, my SAT scores were decent, my GPA was in the top 10%, my extracurriculars were outstanding, but we can’t forget that college essay. It was my voice that gave all those SAT and GPA numbers and lists of extracurriculars character.
Throughout college I was told I was a great creative writer (but always trying to comprehend that academia writing lolz). It was only through the pen that the Gilman scholars got to know me and, in turn, granted me a highly competitive national scholarship that enabled me to spend a year in South America. Once distance separated me from my loved ones back home, it was the many detailed writings on my perspectives on life in South Am that kept us connected and exchanging updates or stories of cultural misunderstandings.
Today, writing is an essential part of my life. Personal or autobiographical writing has become my therapy, as I attempt to communicate to you–my loved one–pieces of my life I deem important or of impact, even if the topic (like subway snapping) seems trivial. Writing is an escape into what may otherwise be, in large part, repressed memory. My voice has seemingly been strongest through the pen. Yet, I took for granted growing up in America where having a voice is stressed on a regular. For now, I must accept that writing is my communication and almost sole meaning of ‘voice.’
Yes, I am over here struggling. Yea, I’m really wishing I had a loved one around to give me a great big bear hug or a shoulder to cry on; yet I lie alone at home to simply relax, tear drops falling down my cheeks. Apparently, blocking out or trying to simply ignore the alienation I feel has proved unsuccessful. Finally, I follow my mom’s advice from my childhood, “just take a deep breath and relax.” Taking deep breaths I thought about one issue at a time of what I am currently dealing with; I held my breath. While holding my breath I let the issue penetrate my whole, roll around my thoughts until it came to a head. Then, I exhaled and blew it all away. Guess that’s what “blowing off steam” means. This process continued until I let it all out–including the tears. I know this is vague and I’m not going into details on the ‘issues,’ but at least wanted to update you. I miss and love you. Use that voice you have and drop me one. Much love, Phoebz*
A Line in the Life of Phoebe* 