there’s a presentational meeting tomorrow about Club 40. More to come…

-VC

“Your liberal arts education and anthropological training are not as much like a ticket on the first train out of here as they are like your passport and shots – good for the whole journey.”

-John Omohundro

-Christopher Lasch, The Culture of Narcissism

I thought extensively about how this paper should be written and about what should be said. And as much as I think I know about the world and my community, I can only really speak truthfully about myself. And although I feel like I have reached a time in my life where I can feel confident in defining and describing who I am, I was ultimately confused and overwhelmed as to where to begin.

I had a two hour long conversation earlier in the day with a person I could not be more different from. He is my foremost challenger, my aggressor, and because he and I are in love with the same person, he is also my competitor. We rarely agree on anything and when we do, we have conflicting opinions on how to approach them. I avoid confrontations with him because I typically walk away upset, but today, I am glad we had a chance to speak because he challenged me to think critically about myself. Today, I walked away enlightened and can now properly begin this assignment.

We discussed identities – how they are formed and how, if at all, they can be expressed in art. During this discussion, he asked me if I automatically identity myself as a woman. And while I have never had to, I realized that acknowledging myself as a woman means everything. While I am Latina, Mestiza, twenty-four years old, a sister, a daughter, a lover, and a friend, I am also much more. Yet, I now realize that the ideologies and behaviors that reflect these identifications have everything to do with the fact I see myself as a woman.

As I think back, my journey of self-discovery did not truly begin until I began to feel that my religion and denomination (Catholic) made significant distinctions between men and women. It felt right to call myself a woman, and it felt wrong that I should be treated differently by my church because I did. Shortly afterwards, I was told that it would be a sin for me to never give birth. While I think motherhood is one of the greatest opportunities in life, it does not make a better woman. A different one, maybe, but not a better one. The realization that the church I had been raised to believe in whole heartedly had made me a second class citizen caused me to question almost everything else in my life.

I was raised in a hectic household, where there always tens of other things going on. If you wanted to be heard in my family, you had to speak up. I learned to exert myself vocally very young. And to this day, I am rarely ever quiet. My parents worry about me for many different reasons, but they have told me that they are at peace knowing that I will always defend myself. This quality has trickled over into my romantic relationships, friendships, and professional experiences. Most people I meet love my opinionated personality, some people hate me. But I have always strived to be humble, compassionate, and most importantly, respectful because I am aware that a strong personality is hard to swallow. I have learned that respecting others has the most positive results.

My family is not poor nor is it wealthy, economically. But I am rich with love, and my family has supported me regardless of my mistakes. It has meant everything to me knowing that even if I fall, there will many people there to pick me up. And although I have many days in which I feel that I am insignificant, unappreciated, and undeserving, I push on. I have a pretty good self-esteem, and I attribute that to the fact that I have been told that will succeed. Because I have felt the effects of positive praise, I feel that one mission in my life is to pass it on. I have worked extensively with people of all ages. Some suffer trauma from physical, emotional, or sexual abuse they experienced as children. And I have known others who have been neglected and discriminated against because of mental retardation or mental illness. And it angers me because ultimately, I feel guilty. Why have I been so lucky? The bittersweet experiences in my own life inspire me to help others. And while it has not been easy, I will never give up.

I have been be patronized by male medical, engineering, and science majors at UTSA for majoring in a social science (anthropology). What are you going to do with that, they ask. Teach?

And they say it like it’s a bad thing.

While I do not wish to teach professionally, I have seen the effects that it has had on people and on my community. It saddens me that helping others is a gendered gesture. Woman – the nurturer.

While I have learned in school that even compassion has to be taught, I sometimes do feel like I could not do anything different even if I wanted to. I could never be an engineer, although I know I am definitely smart enough to be (although men have actually told me that women are not as smart as they are). I could never be a Western doctor because I would never want to charge for my services.

And sometimes I am not sure where my passion for people comes from, but I know I have been influenced by the actions and morals of my parents. Sometimes I do not know why I feel the need to self-describe myself as a feminist. But I know that I am comfortable in my body. And I love my curves because, while I could easily hate them, they are physical representations of my ancestors’ past. I am a sexual woman – although I sometimes feel like I am supposed to be ashamed to admit it. But I think the most important quality I hold as a woman is that I love. And because any gender is capable of doing this, maybe Vanessa the Woman is really just Vanessa.

-Christopher Lasch, The Culture of Narcissism

A professor once told my class this, as he pointed out the many imperfections of the human body. but he forgot to mention the mind. nevertheless, i think about this all the time. and god, its so sad how intelligent but fragile we are.

the human psyche is like sponge, they say.

and everyday, i see the effects we have on each other. our words, our looks, our touch. we leave a piece of ourselves in everyone we encounter.

i wish we were perfect. i wish people were always kind. i wish we took care of one another. i wish we’d agree to disagree.

i wish every child had a chance to dream.

-VC

If I can work through them and get my thoughts organized, this blog will no longer be a lost cause.

I will proceed and succeed.

Thank you.

-VC

The childbirth stories told today are also very similar to the stories I’ve been told by U.S. American women. More details later.

-VC

Today, we’re talking about various dialects and how to function in an urban space like Austin when a person’s background is different than most others they come into contact with. Most importantly, the teachers reinforce the realtity that Latinos are NOT homogenous. And sadly, they’re so many people who assume that they are.

More soon

-VC

-VC