P4

Who am I? A Collection of Letters to Myself

December 13, 2008
Dear future self:
I still remember what it felt like to think I could conquer the world: the adrenalin that ran through my veins as I passionately demanded retribution from governments around the world; the silent pleasure I experienced as I witnessed people’s reactions to my liberal, nonsensical jargon; the purpose and optimism that working with Amnesty International inspired; the moral superiority that consumed me. Do you still remember those feelings? I can also recall how I resented everyone around me—I didn’t understand their apathy.



[1.] This is a photo of a protest in England. I organized movements similar to this one when I was president of the Pearland High School Amnesty International Chapter.

It wasn’t until I came to UT that I felt the constraints of my activist cocoon. I had allowed my emotions to influence the way I saw the world, and I had become manipulable. I never challenged the information given to me. I believed everything I was told, regardless of the source. I believed in my textbook’s account of George Washington’s apple orchard. Moreover, it never occurred to me to question whether the material Amnesty International sent me on labor camps in Mexico was full of propaganda.

Do I still have that binder of labor camp pamphlets? Do I ever get nostalgic about how easy it was to be so naïve? Remember when I first encountered professors and people who presented me with opinions and facts that challenged my fundamental beliefs? They demanded a thorough understanding of every topic, and incessantly played devil’s advocate. I was frustrated at first, then ashamed.

That introduction into a wealth of understanding inspired me to change the way I looked at the world. Since then I have come to comprehend that issues cannot be categorized by good and bad. Conflict is often a result of corruption, but in some part, it is strongly influenced by the inherent differences in people’s culture. Moreover, I learned to appreciate these differences—they are as understandable as someone’s breakfast food preference. I may not agree with the justification for certain actions, but I understand why governments, groups, and people react the way they do. Do I still believe in muticulturism, or have I finally accepted the neoconservative view of culture? Did I ever get around to reading Marc Steyn’s books?



[2.] This book has been at the top of my “to read” list for the past year. It discusses multiculturism and the spread of Islam throughout the West. I’ve heard that this book will transform my political opinions.

Not only did this transition completely revolutionize the way I approached my education and global awareness, but it also devastated the security I had known in high school. I find myself still appalled by war, but now I can selfishly justify it. I understand how America’s investment in other countries- the investment that allows for the luxuries I regularly consume- will stand in the way of a country achieving self-determination. I understand what politically and psychologically motivates the conflict in Sudan, and, more importantly, I understand that I will never be able to do anything about it. I will never be able to end starvation around the world, fix poverty, or aide in the prevention of disease throughout Africa—no matter how many hundreds of letters I write and flyers I pass out. Do you remember how lonely it was realizing this?



[3.] This is a photo of an early De Beers mining site in South Africa. De Beers is world renowned for the quality of their diamonds, and owning some of their diamonds is considered a luxury; what many people don’t realize is that De Beers still practices various forms of physical, mental, and financial exploitation when extracting diamonds. De Beers monopolizes this industry, even though selling cut diamonds could play a pivotal role in the development of African countries.

My goal of world peace has always been too broad. It’s not possible, and while it took me a long time to accept the fear this realization inspired, when I finally did, I found a peace that I had never experienced in high school. However, along with that peace came a frustration and loneliness. I can’t fix the world, but I can do more good understanding this than naively leading revolutions that the rest of the world mocks.



[4.] I used to passionately participate in campaigns similar to this. However, when I came to college I understood how naïvely presumptuous it was for a group of Westerners to protest the death penalty in countries around the world.



January 5, 2009
Dear Future Self,

I’m emotionally numb. Has that changed?

All of my decisions are driven by logic. I still have a reaction to the things I hear and experience, but I always stifle it before I become overwhelmed. Sometimes I feel this detachment makes me coarse—does Mom still call me callous?—but I am making a conscious effort to be more optimistic. However, there are certain obvious benefits that come from being “emotionally detached”.

Do you remember reading Siddhartha in Bump’s class? How about the discussion on detached compassion and love? I never realized this, but, for the past few months, I’ve been practicing it. I think it started after I was hired by Red Lobster. Everyone kept shoving their opinions down my throat- “you can’t be a full time student and a full time waitress, it’s too hard,” “you’ll crash and burn,” “your grades will suffer, you shouldn’t work so much,” “you can’t afford UT, just get your Associates at a community college; it’s more realistic”. I know what they say is true, but I am offended that they feel it is their place to judge my choice. I never asked for their advice, but they gave it to me anyway. Moreover, they aren’t even aware of the entire story. They made assumptions about my motivation for getting a job, and that makes me even angrier than being told something I already know.



[5.] My reason for working at Red Lobster is simple: if I do not have a steady source of income, then I cannot attend UT.

Being forced into the situation I had put countless others in—telling them I knew what was best for them and carelessly throwing my supposed moral, intellectual, or spiritual superiority in their face—has changed the way I approach conflicts among my friends and family. I may disagree with their decision- I may fear for their safety or stability, but I cannot suppress them with it; I can’t fix their flaws and mistakes. I just have to accept them.

If they ask for my opinion I’ll give it to them, but only if asked. This is because I believe that they’re the only ones who can realize something for themselves. I will always love them because they’re my friends and family, but that doesn’t mean I can intrude upon their lives. Besides, my moral foundation isn’t necessarily the right one.



February 13, 2009
Dear future self,

It has recently occurred to me that I cannot fix the world. I cannot fix my friends and family members. But—you know what I can fix? Myself.
In Houston, it was easy to get caught up in the lives of others—this includes friends who were involved in insipid drama, family members who were hurting, or politicians who were making scandalous remarks. I don’t know how long I lived my life monopolized by others, but it reached the point where I hardly knew anything about myself. However, when I moved to Austin I left many of the people whose lives I had made my own. I was alone with no one to distract me from getting to know who I really was.



[6.] I found it frustrating to be alone at first. However, I eventually learned that the time I spent by myself enabled me to reflect upon my life.

Being forced to evaluate who I was inspired a lot of questions within me. Was college a good fit for me? Could I afford it? Could I handle it? Was it worth everything that I had to give up? What did worth mean to me? Why did I do certain things? Why did I lie? Judge? Why was I disappointed in myself and others? What were my expectations?

These kinds of questions penetrated every level of my daily life, and I began to really doubt myself. I couldn’t sit down in a coffee shop to study without feeling pretentious, even though I was only there for the cheap refills; I couldn’t feign interest in people or things without feeling fake, even though I knew that that was a part of simply being social; I couldn’t participate in debates without feeling like a pseudo-intellectual, even though I knew I was only participating because I genuinely disagreed with someone.



[7.] I prefer to study at the Starbucks on 24th and San Antonio because if you purchase a drip coffee and keep your cup then you get unlimited refills for 54 cents.

These feelings forced me to look within myself and explore why I felt the way I did, and, when I confronted the true motivation behind some of these feelings, I wanted to change them. For example, after reflecting on my feelings about a political conversation I had had in the West Mall I realized that for the past six months I was allowing my academic experiences in college to determine my self-worth. What I stood for and what I was capable of was determined by my ability to manipulate the information I had learned in class; this wasn’t an appropriate use of my college education.

Realizing this was the first step, and changing it was the second. When I finally accepted how disappointed I was in myself for abusing my college experience, when I understood what I wanted from my experience here at UT, I was able to transform all of these negative feelings into something positive. It’s a hard trap to avoid, but I think I’ve done well so far. Am I still doing well? How am I determining my self-worth?

Word Count: 1,480
Pictures:
[1.] http://pro.corbis.com/search/searchFrame.aspx
[2.] www.steynstore.com/product49.html
[3.] http://pro.corbis.com/search/searchFrame.aspx
[4.] personal photo
[5.] http://pro.corbis.com/search/searchFrame.aspx