The Perception Check.

I know a lot of people that hate their job. They don't get paid enough, they work long hours, their co-workers suck, they don't get paid enough, they hate what they do, their boss is the spawn of Satan, they don't get paid enough, etc.

I think we know which one of these complaints I am guilty of making.

For the most part, I enjoy what I do. And note to any of you that makes any of the aforementioned statements of discontent...stop bitching. You have a job.

This past week I was informed I was being a 'Negative Nancy.' This annoyed me. First, because my name isn't Nancy, but mostly because I hate cliches. But it was true. Bad week(s) tend to bring out the side of me that is angry that the beer is only half full.

[I. Hate. Cliches.]

I understand that everything is relative to our own experience and therefore we are limited in what we consider to be real problems. In fact, to account for this conditional state, we have added the term "first-world problems" into our vernacular as if this compensates for us whining. Although not as bothersome as the incorrect and overuse of the term "epic," this phrase is still starting to become problematic for me. I'd never use a term like that in say, the title of a blog. 

What snapped me back into the realization of my pretty swell life were three things (in order of occurrence):

(1) A reunion with some of the best women on Earth. How our lives led us to be in the same place, at the same time, so we could be apart of each other's stories, is so fantastic.

(2) An assignment I gave my students on their identity that is blowing my mind.

(3) Having story time with my niece. I do the reading, she does the page turning. Backwards, forwards and back again...I'll read these pages forever to her.

All of these is a blog in itself, but I'm going to talk about #2.

In an intercultural class I teach, I assign an Identity paper to my students. They're challenged with picking two of their many identities (ie: age, sex, religion, sexual orientation, physical ability, race, etc) and writing about the ones they consider to be the most influential in their lives. They must talk about their experience, a historical event within this culture, and stereotypes they've dealt with. Two of these papers shattered my heart.

[Paper #1-An Indian Woman:] "This paper was really hard for me to write because I don't feel like I have an identity." She goes on to explain that she was arranged into a marriage to someone she didn't love by her parents and her husband controls everything; including what she "likes" or is "interested" in. Therefore she feels like nothing is just hers.

I try and live my life on the basis of originality. How terrible it must and does feel for her to have nothing be your own; feeling you have nothing to separate you from another person. She goes on to explain that she did love someone at one point that validated her, but this man was from a lower class and was unacceptable to her parents.

[Paper #2-Korean Woman:] She is a lesbian that can't come out to her parents because in Korea, homosexuality is not an option. She said she felt comfortable in the states because this lifestyle was acceptable. In reading that, I immediately wondered if we were living in the same times as this is a constant point of political contention. But for her to make that statement, I realized that hers was a much different reality. And it was. If she were to come out to her parents, she would be disowned by her family.

There is literally nothing I could do to have my parents disown me. I haven't tried [all that hard] in finding ways, but there is too much love there for me to ever fathom this fate. 

From knowing these stories, my perception changed. Just like my friends stories intersecting with my own, I believe these women are sitting in my classroom for a reason. Maybe just for opening my eyes to another reality or for me to at least have been an outlet where someone would listen to their stories. How liberating words can make us feel; even if you're the only reader of them. I write to myself all the time.

I'm not saying that it isn't valid to be upset over things that happen to us just because somebody out there has it worse. Because frankly, things are crappy sometimes. What I am saying is that we all need to expand our limited perception and consider what somebody else may be going through if only to serve them with a smile or to hug someone we care about a little tighter.

I try to make people laugh. I have one student that comes into class everyday and his face is always so stern. He volunteers quotes from Nietzsche, will ask an occasional question, and is a very intelligent student, but his face is full of stress. I make it my goal in the two and a half hour class that I have with him to make him laugh at least once. If I get him twice, well, then I think I've done my job as an educator. Or maybe just as a human being.