drafts 001 — even in the dark, we sing
i think i was the only kid in america that grew up with a scarcity mindset before i turned 5. i’m not sure if this is one of those childhood stories that had the truth bent a couple times when my parents relayed the story back to me as i’ve gotten older, but nevertheless, it developed. was it because i became anxious at the beginning of the month to see if rent will be paid on time or lived as an immigrant from a non-English speaking country? well, no! in fact, i grew up without worrying about where my next meal would come from AND i don’t speak spanish—i deeply apologize to my ancestors, i promise i’ll pick it up before i turn 30.
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anyway, i’m trying my best to not become the “licensed” therapist you see on TikTok—who, mind you, makes a living by analyzing the body language of female celebrities under the age of 25–but there’s only so many ways to approach this character flaw without airing on the side of pseudoscience.
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at 13, i was lamenting to a youth group leader (my mom’s a witch now, by the way) saying, “how can this summer retreat be any fun! i don’t know anyone, i’ve never left the state without my parents, and all these kids are gonna hate me before i’m weird!” maybe “weird” wasn’t the correct word, i think what i was looking for was “gay” (lol) since i orbited around only the girls after service ended and unabashedly wore t-shirts with lady gaga’s face plastered front and center at family weekend events.
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it still followed me through my adolescence though. I was 16 at debate practice on a random tuesday after school, borderline dry heaving in a stall next to media center because my sat score didn’t break 1400, all the while i had my coach ask me if i finished my prep doc for the tournament this weekend in ft. lauderdale. there was a constant blame i put on myself: it’s my fault that i didn’t try hard enough. you know, what’s the point of trying if everyone around me is achieving academic accolades without breaking a sweat. why even start improving if i’m going to get upstaged by white kids that live in west pines in a house with a pool?
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what if i reckoned with mary oliver’s words and let the soft animal of my body love what if loves? what if the instagram witches that appear every three reels were right? what if entering a mode of neutrality aligns you with all your greatest desires? does that extend to what i want the world to become? will infants be spared in the wake of ethnic cleansing ? will archaic belief systems that anchor the minds of right-wing politicians crumble to ground? will we go back to indigenous ways of thought about respecting the earth as the divine entity it is? what else would i truly want besides living in a world that has no obstacles in progressing forward? will i escape the fate of being a footnote in future think pieces that reference the political climate of the early 21st century?
to me, the answer is an emphatic yes. when i read the words of those that came before, whether they be academics, organizers, or regular people documenting their lives, they didn’t let the uncertainty of the world overpower the magnitude of their imagination. i want to be that person for someone, even it’s just one distracted, unassuming reader that happens to stumble upon this blog a few decades down the line while browsing the 10th page of search results from google. i hope my words as they appear on the screen outlive my time on this physical plane. to you in the future, it may be dark, but you are undoubtably the light. whatever may be happening around you, both in and out of your control, there’s hope in every corner room you enter. maybe you’re lantern of sorts, illuminating the landscaped features around you. i’m currently living in a world that’s cannibalizing itself because we are still interpreting a document crafted by group of white men who owned slaves in the 18th century to usher in the dawn of american independence as holy scripture.
is it privileged to be hopeful because someone on my phone told me to, laying in a bed my cushy job paid for? is it privileged to question the privilege, having a stomach full of food and living, breathing parents that can hold my body up when i can’t do it myself? maybe it’s supposed to be like that. i don’t question where this new worldview came from. all that matters is that i developed it in the first place. all i know is that even in the dark, i sing with all the force i can—breaking blood vessels in my eyes and straining my vocal cords until veins are visible on my neck yelling “yes! i’m here! everything is cyclical and history rhymes! the world is good because i’m in it!” yeah, that’s it. the world is good because i’m in it. and that goes for you too.