What a Semester

Nothing could have prepared me for this semester. I knew it was going to be tough. I was taking the capstone in both of my majors, one I was looking forward to and one I was terrified of. (I will let you guess which one was which.) That was big, big enough to be life changing (especially the way I approach my classes). Then the ground came out from under my feet.

So I started this semester single, I've been single now for a year and a half. This is the first time that I have been single for more than a few months in my dating life, and you can do the math, but let's just say it's been a while. I have never dealt with big stuff alone before and that caused me some problems. I also started this semester off as a new grandma. The baby is now pushing toward 7 months. The dates are now a bit fuzzy because all of this happened so quickly, but I will give it my best to give it justice. I got accepted into Diversity and Explorations, I opened the email of acceptance and freaked out. I couldn't speak, I smacked my friend Aaron and made him look at the email. I walked out of class tears rolling down my face. I also won the Praxis scholarship. Two things I applied for at the beginning of the year and I was really happy and felt affirmed to have been awarded them. The scholarship was for activism in the LGBT community, which I have been committed to for a long time and been an organizer since arriving in Manhattan. The acceptance letter was for a program at Harvard Divinity School where they accepted 38 people this year to visit, sit in classes, go to workshops, meet alumnae, meet current students, meet faculty, take tours, see key note speakers and lots more, but I will get there. I was buried in school work but really happy that my work seemed to be paying off.

The next day my daughter, the 16 year old momma, had a fever. We couldn't get it to break. We knew she likely had a UTI, she'd had them before and we knew the symptoms. I gave her lots of cranberry extract, pro-biotics, and water. She was taking ibuprofen  and it seemed to get better, then it got lots worse. Her fever kept hitting 104, the take 'em to the hospital number. It stopped breaking with medicine. She was shaking and looking terrible. She went to the emergency room. I stayed home with the baby, scared for my baby but the hospital is no place for a healthy infant. They said she had a kidney infection and they were keeping her. They started running cold saline through her and packing her in ice as well as maxing her out on fever reducers. Then to treat the infection they were giving her antibiotics, which kept not working. I have never felt so helpless in all of my life. Seeing my baby in a hospital bed, feeling terrible, with tubes running in and out of her, the medicine not working was terrifying. I put aside the resentment I have with the relationship I have with my mom and called her because all I wanted was my mommy. I was a wreck. My mom came up with my grandma for a night so I could have someone to lean on. After a few days, the newest antibiotics were working finally, her fever was being managed minus the ice packs. The infection was clearing up, the quit  using the cold saline and opted for room temp. She should have been ready to go home, but she still couldn't eat without throwing up and her temp kept spiking. After a scan of sorts they figure out her gallbladder is not working, doesn't look like it has been for a while. She need surgery, so mom and grandma come up again. They hang out with me while I wait for her to come out of surgery after they pushed the time back over and over again throughout the day. A routine thing, but after the mess my baby had been, it was still more than I could handle alone. She gets better comes home.

I am doing my best to get back into a routine, and get caught up (I missed a mid-term and a paper). Three days later, mom calls... "You're grandpa is having kidney failure. He is in the hospital and they have one more medicine they are going to try. We will know tomorrow if it worked." Tomorrow comes, it didn't work. They don't have any options, grandpa goes to the hospice. Mom calls again, "pack up the kids and come home if you want to say goodbye." I pack up the kids, I borrow a friend's car, and we head to KC, home for all intents and purposes. I get to spend my grandpa's birthday with him, which my 11 year old shares. The family is huge, many of them I am meeting for the first time. Uncle Manuel comes from California, my cousin who settled out there comes home too. I keep trying to do my homework, I can't focus on it. I am glad to be surrounded by family, it has been a while. I wrote them off long ago, but sorta forgot to tell them. They don't know why I haven't been home in 7 years. It feels so good to be around these people. It's so nice to have a family again, and they never left I did, but it was like I never did. I head back to school, my other home where I know I will wait for the call to tell me he passed.

On the road, I-70 near a Lawrence exit, the car starts to die. The dash lights flash like the alternator isn't working, bummer, but not a huge deal. I pull over and pop the hood. The car is on FIRE. "Kids get out of the car." I run to grab the baby in the car seat. I run them far from the car. I get my phone. I have the oldest call some family in Lawrence to get us. I use a blanket to put the car out. An elderly couple, an off duty fire fighter, and a police officer all stop. They help me secure the car. The cousin collects us and all our stuff from the side of the road. The youngest has called her dad during the ordeal, crying because it's scary to get out of a car that is on FIRE. He drives to Lawrence with his girlfriend to collect me and the youngest. We can't fit the oldest and that baby. They will stay in Lawrence with the cousin, and we will head to Manhattan. I don't like this idea, but I am not sure what else to do. I get home at some ungodly hour and I am a wreck. My friend is freaked out about her car (she didn't tell her parents she loaned it), how will she explain why her car is in Lawrence, her hometown, without her? I am trying to help her get a tow. I am trying to get my daughter home. My mom goes to get her and takes her back to KC. She does not want to be there without me. She gets her boyfriend's sister to go out and get her and bring her home.

The whole week I can't leave the house. I get dressed in the morning. I have such a big panic attack I can't get out the door. I go back to bed, drink tea, stare at the phone and wait for it to ring. A week later it does. Grandpa has passed and it's time to pack up and head back to KC to do the rosary, the wake and the funeral. I have to buy black clothes for my kids who have grown too big. I pack for a week, and I have to be smart. I get to wash these clothes and take them to Harvard. Yes, it's time for that now. I get to cry and be with the family. My mom loses it. She loves her dad, we all did, and he loved us all too. I have 33 first cousins on that side of the family, so there were a lot of us to love!

The kids head home, I spill coffee in my phone, I hike to the mall and get a new one. A couple days after the funeral I am headed to Cambridge. People wonder if I should do it after all that I dealt with and I think I can't miss this. I get off the plane. I figure out the subway, I get off at Harvard Square. Wow. I ask for directions to the hotel and hike over there. I get checked in. I meet my roommie for the next few days. She is an army veteran, she is interested in theology and veteran care. I was worried, I'm older than the average student, and gay. She is younger but not young, and not concerned about my queerness. We get up to our room and figure out where we are going. We get lunch and the program starts. The 38 of us introduce ourselves, I am surrounded by really cool people. The definition of diversity makes me happy, there are people of color, veterans, queer folks, atheists, and people from lots of religious backgrounds. We will journey together for the next 3 days. The experience feeds my soul. Before this I don't know how I am going to get through this semester, I am feeling defeated, I am feeling alone, I am not sure if I have it in me to get it done. 3 days at Harvard and I feel affirmed, the work I do is important, surrounded by other people who want to study theology, their work is so interesting and inspiring. I meet students, alumnae, and faculty who open the door to worlds of new possibilities. I sit in a classroom and realize that I am perfectly capable of doing this work and I want to be there. I see where I want to take my ministry. I talk to UU ministers and folks who want to be ministers and we talk about the future of the religion, and I talk about being attractive to a more diverse audience. We have different ideas and we are all intrigued and interested in asking about the others' theories and work. I see myself as peers with these folks. I leave the program and stay with friends, we go out to dinner and a little restaurant that cooks local stuff, I am not an alien because I don't eat meat. Their house is adorable, it's been a year and it's nearly done with their remodel. We are in Jamaica Plains great neighborhood. We stay up late talking about my trip, theology, and my research. I am researching solidarity among trans activists (final version of the paper done in a couple days). The most rewarding research I have ever done!

So back at school and still pushing through. Taking some incompletes so I can finish during break. Then taking the GRE and finishing my grad school applications. Too damn crazy, and there was so much more. I'm still not sure how I am still standing... seriously, what a semester!!

Today I Absolutely Hate my Story!

So I thought I had a point, I thought I knew what I was doing. I don't!

I should have asked for more direction, because yesterday and today I am editing video and I don't know what I am doing. I have no focus and no direction. I am watching my hours of video and I am not sure I have a story anymore. Ugh!!

A great suggestion!

In class on Thursday Dr. Wesch suggested that I might try looking through pictures to tell my story. At first I thought alright that could work, I wish I had something better, but this will do. Upon going through my pictures I realized that this could be excellent. I found a family portrait taken right about when my movie begins. I had forgotten that we took it.

I went through a box of pictures, and broke out my albums and even before a trip home to dig through what my mom has, I have a pretty good start! I've gotten really excited about what this could become.

My friend David also drove around my old neighborhood and shot video. I have really made it over a big hurdle by finding some visuals, it's helped me to visualize my story!

Marginalized and Isolated

Unfortunately due to the weather, a car accident, and my driver's license becoming recently expired, (why didn't I notice that?!) I did not make it to KC to shoot some video. I did sit down with my roommate and record some more dilogue about some things I was missing from my interview with Haley. The up side, I have some friends (several actually) that are in some form of the arts in KC and some have volunteered to go stomping around my old neighborhood and old stomping grounds to get some pictures and videos. I also have people looking through old pictures to see if they can find some pictures of the ol'days.

My current goal is to edit my story in a way that makes an audience understand my experience. In order to do that I am explaining my background.  Some of which I don't know if I should say, on something so public. There aren't many folks reading this blog so it feels pretty safe. I am becoming scared of success. I have gotten through life being fairly invisible. Success is going to equal exposure. Expose will lead to more success, as I apply for graduate school and such. My dilemma: Am I using my personal hardship and life on the margins as a commodity? Am I exploiting myself or people in similar situations? 

Spending so much time contemplating, explaining and telling the story of me and how I was marginalized is making me feel increasingly different and removed from my peers at school. This is a bigger struggle because I am for the first time in my life single and 2 of my best friends moved at the end of December. I have done a lot of work creating community, but those people only know me now. They don't know the things that made me who I am. My differences now are tolerable, because I have learned to navigate this world, not because any of these people understand the world that I came from. It all makes me wish I had someone to come home to, or a shoulder to cry on.

The great thing, the story is really taking shape. I could use some hugs and hands to hold every now and again to just remind me that I am not alone in this. Any takers?

Stuff I am thinking about

Today's discussion and recording. I relized when I was cutting my video that I had not talked about the biggest change in my life. It is so matter of fact to me that it didn't seem like a big deal, but it really is a huge turning point and one that came about during school. So today I recorded discussion of my developing a gay identity.

My schedule

So this schedule is sort of organic, as it has changed lots before now and I imagine it will continue to change.

This week: I will finish up the recording that I need to do. There are 2 sections of my story that I will focus on as well as talking again about some things to see if the audio ends up better. I am interviewing with a friend who knows more about me and can help to push me deeper and will help me raise issues that won't immediately come to me.

This weekend: Going to Kansas City to get some video of the neighborhood where I grew up to use as visuals when I talk about my past.

Next week: Make a new cut of the video.

Following week: Determine which theoretical stuff to cut in. Might cut in video of interviews about me.

Make lots of cuts to trim down to final video.

Telling your own story

So, I have discovered a couple of problems in telling my own story. 1.) How do I decide what pieces are important and what are not? It's all seems so relevent, but to keep people's attention it has to get trimmed down lots! 2.) I'm not the only player in my story... I just asked my ex-girlfriend how she felt about being in my movie. Not that I will mention her by name, but she is in many ways the reason that I was able to come to an identity that included my sexual orientation.

I only started to think about these issues as I started to realize the shape of my story. This Blog may turn into a place where I tell my story over and over in an attempt to get some sense of where I am going and in what order I tell my story and to help determine what is important to say. All that being said, I have made some great plans. This Sunday I am sitting down with my roommate to record some more "interview" time. Once I realized what the important parts of my story were, I realized that I hadn't talked about some of them. Accepting that I was gay at 30 is sort of a big deal in my story. I haven't talked about it, only mentioned it. That surprised me. My hope is to get another version of my video cut on Monday, or at least get as far as I can.

I also spent some time cleaning my room, I know this is sort of off topic, but I am reorganizing my furniture so that i can more easily access my walls to storyboard in a bigger way. I think I need to get the whole story out in order to determine what to trim down. This is going to look crazy. But I am getting really excited. I have always felt like there was something important in my story and until now I haven't really know what it was. I am not sure I know right now what it is, but I am sure getting closer.

The up side, I don't have to be the one who makes all the decisions of what to cut. I can just make the movie and let my classmates help me chop it up. Additionally, I have some friends in KC who are willing to help me get the video and photographic stuff I need for visuals. I think having some visual sense of the place that I came from will help frame the story.