Home is Where the Hard Conversation Lives...

Discussing Racism, Privilege, and the (White) Elephant in the Room Regarding the Ferguson/Eric Garner Discussion—Challenging & Supporting White Students

So, I started three other ideas for blog posts before deciding that I needed to write something about the current state of student affairs work in the post-Ferguson/Eric Garner grand jury decision discussions.

This topic has permeated our work as student affairs professionals because many of our campuses are now serving as beacons for discussion, activism, and demonstrations.

Even many of our student affairs colleagues have written about this topic and how it shapes our work and the ways in which we can support our students of color on campus. And that’s awesome. I think this is a powerful time for our field to step up like this and become leading voices in the conversation on racial injustices in our country.

And yet, there is one facet of this conversation that I want to focus on: Challenging and supporting our white, socially just students that simply want to show their support, but have difficult (i.e. uneducated and/or racist) home lives that challenge them from moving forward in their journey of social justice education.

I am going to share a personal experience, talk about getting to TA this semester through the model of Challenge & Support, and then explain my philosophy of how to support white students during this time.

(Note: This post is IN NO WAY meant to discredit the other very real racial work happening on our campuses and in society today. If you read it with that lens, I challenge you to read this again. At no point is that my intention. This post is merely meant as an extension of the larger conversation. One that I think some of our students need to hear/can relate to.) 

Ferguson is quite the taboo topic right now.
As is an discussion white students as well.
How do we support them?
IMAGE: Michael Ramirez (Investors Business Daily)

PERSONAL CONTEXT

I was adopted into a white, low-SES, uneducated, and slightly racially ignorant home life.

Having just turned 27, my closest sibling is NINE years older than me—with my oldest sibling being 50 years old. I am the only person in my family to attend college, let alone graduate from college and/or even understand the concept of graduate school. Therefore, as the youngest person in my family, I am the only one with any understanding of how the academy works. And, by extension, how privilege works.

This is quite challenging—as you could imagine.

However, it is never more challenging than when the holidays come around. I basically have no support when it comes to virtually any conversation whatsoever. And the scapegoat that my family ALWAYS retreats to is the fact that I’m young(er than them). I mean, I’m 27. I feel I’ve been an adult for a while now.

Now, I assume there are many white students, and white student affairs professionals, that have to go home during the holidays and listened to their “old fashioned” relatives explain why Obama is Hitler, how the liberals are destroying the economy, and how the gays are killing the sanctity of marriage—yes, ALL of these are conversations I have recently had with my relatives.

And it’s hard to listen to your family members say these things, or often worse things. Because when we are in the early stages of development—diffusion, as Marcia might explain it—we don’t question these things. We just accept them.

However, for those of us who develop into free-thinkers—those of us with a little bit of social justice education—we don’t like to keep out mouths shut. So we argue, or we get frustrated and things get tense during the holidays.

It’s always like this for me at home.

And I live over 3,000 miles from home, which makes it even more difficult for me to make the trip. Regardless, each visit goes something like this:

- Relative says something racist/homophobic.

- I get frustrated and challenge them.

- Relative says something equally alarming while trying to explain they aren’t racist/homophobic.

- I get frustrated at their explanation and explain how it is racist/homophobic.

- Relative calls me young and/or pretentious and that my education is a waste of time.

- I realize this conversation is a lost cause and leave to play with my nieces or nephews because they don’t talk about political stuff.

Essentially, going home is hard for me.

And the thing is—I know I am NOT alone in this experience.

Many students experience this!

Many of my colleagues experience this!

My partner and I have been talking about this for weeks!

So what do we do for our white students that still don’t have the tools to question their relatives or even engage in meaningful conversations with their peers?

Image: Steve Breen (U-T San Diego)

CHALLENGE

With seemingly everyone in the nation discussing the Ferguson/Eric Garner grand jury decisions, we, as educators, are in a difficult situation because many of our students are looking to us for answers/guidance.

This semester was my reentry into teaching, as I stepped back into the classroom (I taught High school in a past life) to TA for UMass Amherst’s Education 115 course, Embracing Diversity—which is essentially a Social Justice 101 course, as you can hear some of our students explain in a video I’ve linked at the end of this post. (Note: This classroom context is simply an example of how I practice my approach to educating and supporting white students on these issues. I have many other examples I could use to discuss how I do this with the students I advise as well.)

In being able to TA for this course, I was given the opportunity to educate students on social justice topics like race, class/socioeconomic status, sexual orientation, gender, privilege, white privilege, oppression, Ray Rice and sexual assault, and even the Ferguson/Eric Garner cases.

The catch of all of this was that I was the only white male TA (of five TAs) teaching the whitest and most male-populated discussion section for the course—88 percent of my classroom was white, over 60 percent were men. I had four Asian students (all women) and one Latina student in my class. The other 35 were white.

I had a classroom full of students from all over New England—two from New York, and one lone student from Georgia. All of these students brought vastly different perspectives on many of the topics we discussed.

However, what I ultimately found was not shocking, but it is something we might take for granted since we have social justice conversations almost every day.

I will try my best to be as clear as possible:

MANY OF OUR WHITE STUDENTS

HAVE NEVER HAD TO THINK ABOUT THIS SHIT!

Campuses have always been incredible landscapes for activism.

We cannot assume all of our students are in the same place developmentally OR that they will agree with or absorb everything you teach them. That’s not how learning and/or development works. 

You aren’t going to change a student, who was raised in a racist home, that racism is bad by simply telling them that racism is bad. They’re just going to go home—where racism is practiced—and not think about racism being bad anymore.

These topics MUST be broken down carefully over time.

That being said, I made it my purpose for the semester to teach my 40 students about the realities of the world around them. I constantly told them, “you’re already ahead of me by being in this class,” because I didn’t have my first privilege conversation until I was 23. I wanted my students to understand that white privilege is not something to feel guilty about—it’s out of their control—what they need to do is understand how their privilege functions in society so they can become better allies/advocates for change.

I took this one hour out of the week to do things like ask my students to Google the phrase, “race is a social construct,” and then they would report their findings and we would discuss how this affects them at a predominantly white institution. I would challenge my students to think critically about the world around them instead of simply regurgitating all of the information they’ve been fed throughout their entire lives. It caused for some awkward silences, but we pushed through it as a class.

One of the first activities I did with students was the privilege walk.

(Note: You can click link for an example of how to do the privilege walk.)

If you haven’t done the privilege walk with your students, I suggest you to do so. I make my own list of phrases for them to respond to (e.g., starting with "If you are a man, take a step forward," and later using "If you are a woman, take a step back."), with the caveat that they aren’t allowed to look back until we’re finished. When completed, this activity demonstrates to students that most, if not all, of their privileges are invisible.

Another way to do this is with an exercise called, "Step in, Step Out," in which all students create a circle and step when they can agree with the statement being read. This is often an equally apt way of demonstrating the privilege and inequalities in your group. I chose the privilege walk simply due to the massively white class that I had.

I had my four lone Asian students and the Latina student (reminder: all women) in the back of the class. When I asked one how she felt being there, she responded,

“I just stopped even trying to move forward. Because every time I did, I would have to take another step back. It made me want to give up.” 

This resonated powerfully with the rest of the class, which was all white, and demonstrated to them where they might stand in relation to the rest of the students in their institution, since UMass Amherst is a predominantly white institution. Her reaction is also another reason why some might opt to utilize the "Step in, Step out" activity instead of the privilege walk.

Moving forward with the class was a much easier task because this was the first time many of my white students had ever had to think about their privilege or their other dominant identities.

Making the effort to discuss these issues in a very approachable and intentional manner with my students made a major impact on them this semester. Many of them commented on my individual course evaluations that learning about white privilege and racial oppression were two of the major topics that challenged their thinking this semester.

Reading through my evaluations made me happy because I could tell that some serious change happened over the course of 14 weeks.

But now they are no longer my students—so I worry about where they go from here.

  

SUPPORT

On Thursday, the final day of class, I addressed the upcoming holidays amid a larger conversation about Ferguson and Eric Garner. I told the students that I had a very difficult conversation with my parents about the grand jury decisions, in which I challenged my parents on their stances—which caused my mother to hang up the phone on me.

Some of my students explained that they encountered some difficult conversations with family on their recent Thanksgiving visits home.

I asked them how they handled the conversations. A number of the students said they sat there listening, trying to think about how to respond—using their knowledge from this course. Others said that they challenged their family for the first time and it felt empowering, while also scary because they were met with similar responses that I receive from my family.

On that last day, I told my students to not be silent.

I told my students that it is okay to challenge the views of their friends and family.

On that last day, I also told my students the importance of picking their battles and to recognize there is a time and place for everything. 

On that last day, I told my students to speak out against injustice and prejudiced if they ever encounter it on or off campus.

On that last day, I told my students to always question the world around them.

Be curious. Discover their own knowledge.

On that last day, I explained that since race is a learned social construct, racism is also a learned social construct. Therefore, we have the power to unlearn these constructs.

On that last day, I gave my students an example of a conversation I had with my sister—in regard to some of my father’s remarks one year.

Sister: You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

Me: But you can teach a dog to not be racist.

While they laughed at this example—because I’m hilarious—I made sure to bring it back to a very real feeling that what many of our white students are fed from their families can cause a lot of cognitive dissonance.

On that last day, I told my students that I struggle with these topics with my family all of the time, but that doesn’t mean I give up on my family. I love my family. I just have to separate myself from their reality in order to spend time with them, which comes with time.

On that last day, I acknowledged how some of their families might even be paying for their education, which is an even more difficult experience when picking a social justice battle with their family. Sometimes financial support can be more worth more than an argument. This is reality I had to recognize. I know that many LGBTQ youth are exiled/cut off financially for standing up for their identities, and this circumstance can possibly find a similar end result. Again, pick your battles.

On that last day, I told my students to change the subject or lay down ground rules if they don’t want some things being discussed—or to simply leave the room. I have to do this often while at home. It saves me from some tears or from shouting various obscenities. Or to simply save face.

On that last day, I told my students that they might get conflicting information or confusing articles thrown their way, and that’s natural. There is always going to be doubt with every major issue that happens in our country.

That doesn’t mean we can’t question everything.

I'm not sure what will come of this, but I do know that we cannot do nothing.

CONCLUSION

I hope this post demonstrated some ways in which you can support white, socially just students that just want to be allies/advocates on their campuses. Keep in mind that many of these students might come from homes that either aren’t very socially just, or just aren’t open to discussing these bigger topics.

Also remember that my classroom context might be somewhat of an anomaly, but with as much student leadership training that happens on a college campus, I can assure you that there is somewhere to fit in my suggestions.

Naturally there are going to be many white students that will come to you looking for some sort of guidance when they possibly fear going home (like I often do) or simply supporting their fellow students of color on their campus. I suggest giving them space to talk just as you would any student. There is bound to be a lot of confusion, frustration, and probably anger toward their home situation. Be there for all of your students, regardless of race.

I don't want the work we do educating white students to be for nothing. And you shouldn't either. We need to support our white advocates so that they can educate their families and possibly inspire new tricks in some old dogs.

If we are able to affect and educate today’s white college students that come from historically racist backgrounds, we can potentially alter the course of history. If we can educate on the realities of prejudice, oppression, and injustice in this country as early as possible, who knows what sort of impact we can have as student affairs professionals?

In order to support these students, we need to consider our entire student populations when moving forward in how to approach these large racial issues.

I recognize that my approach/philosophy will not resonate or even work for all students and/or professionals. I don’t expect it to do so. However, I do expect that we can support all of our students as valued members of society and recognize that they all come from varying backgrounds that may require us to read and flex according to the needs of each individual.

Thank you for reading.

I hope this helped in some way.

-Craig.

  

BONUS!

Here is the video that three of my classmates and I put together with the support of our EDUC115 students in response to their learning throughout this year. Check it out!

#MusicWorship (Part One)

A Reflection on the Healing Power of Music

[Note: This is another collaborative post!

This time I am joined by my #SABestie, Katy Hamm—a recent Higher Education Administration Masters graduate from St. Cloud State University in St. Cloud, Minnesota. HIRE HER!

This is also PART ONE of a TWO-PART series. We wrote a lot.]

  

Pianos Become the Teeth's LP for Lack Long After.

Disclaimer: As most people know, I like music. A lot.

If you didn’t know this, click here to check out the blog entries of my countdown of last year’s top 100 albums.

*          *          *

Every night when I get home, I put on a record and either lay on my floor or my bed. In that moment, I can be alone with myself and some relaxing tunes. I often unsheathe Caspian’s Waking Season LP, or Explosions in the Sky’s The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place LP, or even Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever Ago LP. I just choose something that will help me chill out after a long day of class and/or serving students.

Music is a way for me to cope with whatever is going on around me.

Or within me.

Whether I am in good or somber spirits, I can rely on music to accompany my heart. So, I want to share some thoughts about the power of music!

In order to do so, I do not want to be the only voice in this conversation, so I have enlisted some support—

[Note: Katy Hamm’s words will be in italics.]

Hello! As Craig briefly introduced me, my name is Katy Hamm. I am an alumna of the University of Wisconsin Oshkosh, and recently received my master’s in Higher Education Administration from St. Cloud State University.

Music has been extremely important in shaping my path into student affairs. I joined Reeve Union Board (RUB) at UWO to help plan the music events that came to campus. In my final year, I became the Music & Variety Chair of RUB. Connecting with my advisor and mentor, Chelsea Redger, through our similar music interests guided me down the path of awesome that is working in student activities.

This is the first coincidental connection Katy and I have established through music—we both were heavily involved in the music scenes at our undergrad institutions. I was the president of the Oregon State Musicians Guild, which allowed me to essentially live as a booking agent for about 20 musical acts in Corvallis, Oregon over the span of two and a half years. My buddy, Charley, and I booked and managed over 100 concerts during that time and became synonymous with the on-campus music scene.

I used to scream in a metal band called, Of Saints and Shadows.
Made many incredible friends during this experience.
Metal didn't necessarily thrive in our college town.

Our second coincidental connection is that we grew up supporting struggling music scenes. I was amid the once-thriving music scene of Salem, Oregon—where I remember seeing a young (more stripped-down) Typhoon take the stage. Katy Hamm grew up supporting music in the mean streets of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Well, I grew up in a town directly in between Milwaukee and Chicago, and I went to pretty much any show I could. When I was 16, I started going to see a band called The Killer Apathy. After a few years, and a handful of new members, TKA has now become The Color Morale.

Through many TKA/TCM shows and conversations, I have formed a great respect for their vocalist Garret Rapp. He has been incredibly impactful on fans of their music, especially with their new album, Know Hope. It has been an absolute pleasure to see the way The Color Morale has been able to make a difference in the lives of so many young individuals.

I know I was in complete shock the first time I saw The Color Morale live—Garret gave so much love to the crowd and the reciprocation from the crowd was absolutely inspiring.

Garret has been an inspiration to me in my work with students, and gives me confidence in my ability to use my story to positively impact others.

Anthony grabbed my hand many times during this set.
People in the crowd told us we were electric that night.

A man that has been an inspiration to me—and those close to me know how much admiration I have for this man—is Anthony Green.

Anthony Green is the lead singer of Circa Survive, Saosin, Sound of Animals Fighting, is one of my favorite vocalists and he is a great person to follow on social media because he shares so much of his family life and makes an effort to give an insight into his creative space. I appreciate this level of transparency in how he lives his life and I seek to keep up with his messages, as well as his weekly projects for fans to enrich the lives of others.

He started this #musicworship hashtag and I have become quite fond of it because music is one of those rare elements in life that truly gives people a reason to worship personally with song.

To me, music worship is all about discovering what music will help you feel whatever emotion you seek at the given moment. It can also be taken quite literally—what music do you worship?

What music truly speaks to you? What music heals you?

Emotional power of Music

This quote stems from the song "Andria," by La Dispute.
Also, the flower in the middle has become their trademark.

A band that heals me is La Dispute.

I have their flower tattooed on my wrist.

The first time I heard La Dispute, I knew I had found a band that spoke to me. As a recovering English major, I am drawn to stories. I am drawn to imagery. I am drawn to tone and emotion. With this, La Dispute is an uncannily ethereal band. Jordan Dreyer is a lyricist that truly understands storytelling.

Dreyer has the ability to weave elegant tapestries of stories laced with song.

There are guitars—sure.

There are drums—yes.

There is bass—definitely.

But what resonates with me most are the words.

Dreyer gives a shit about the words he uses.

His vulnerability is inspiring.

The songs only truly take shape when he starts yelling and/or screaming his words because he is so taken by the emotional build of the song. I can’t get enough of it.

Any band do this for you, Katy Hamm?

I guess since it is the way we met, it is only fitting that we talk about the same band.

Makes sense to me! It's our THIRD coincidental connection. Go for it!

The first time I heard La Dispute was in my partner Jon's car. I fell in love with their passion and Jordan's lyricism immediately. It wasn’t long before they made the list of my top five favorite bands.

On April 4^th, 2011, Jon was murdered.

The last words he posted on Facebook were, "Heads Up, Hearts Up, Hopes Up," lyrics from "The Last Lost Continent" by La Dispute. Because of this, La Dispute became even more of an emotionally charged band for me. Jon and I owned a clothing company together called Home Sweet Home Clothing, and in his memory I designed shirts with this phrase with an image of him in the background.

These shirts became a way for his family in friends to feel supported in their time of need, and along with donations helped to create college scholarships in his name. To this day, I still see people wearing those shirts that I don’t know, and it reminds me that I need to put a smile on my face and keep moving forward.

Note: Information on the Jonathan Kwiatkowski
Memorial Fund and 2014 Scholarships
can be found at http://www/jkmemorialfund.org

It took me over two years to be able to listen to La Dispute again. I saw them for the first time on April 4^th of this year at The Garage in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

They were playing nearest to me on the anniversary of Jon’s death.

I would be lying if I said my eyes were dry for any portion of their set. Having the connection I do with this band has allowed me to heal myself in ways I never could have imagined without it, and for that I owe thanks to Jordan Dreyer and La Dispute.

I don’t know if I can follow that.

Thank you so much for sharing that experience, Katy.

Connections of music

There is no denying that music has the ability to create connections.

Connections with people.

Connections with emotions.

Connections with moments in our life.

Connections with people from specific moments in our life.

Connections with emotions attached to people from specific moments in our life.
Music is connective.

Hell, anytime I listen to John Legend’s “Get Lifted” album, all I think of Chuck Palahniuk’s book, “Choke,” because I listened to that CD almost nonstop as I read through that book. These connections stick with us.

I would not have met my skister (don’t worry—I will explain what that is in a second) Amanda if it hadn’t been for her sister, and my best friend in high school, Emily, and I constantly going to local shows together.

My Skister and I love adventuring in cities and trying new things.
This time we were trying out Ed Debevic's diner in Chicago.

Emily was killed by a drunk driver in July of 2008, and since then, Amanda and I have adopted each other as sisters. We call each other Skister, because that is what she and Emily called each other growing up. Amanda has been one of my biggest role models since she has come into my life, and I can’t imagine her being anything but my sister.

Music has an uncanny ability to bring people together with the common purpose of creating an escape and a form of healing for those in need.

I would not have met my best friend Sam if I hadn’t gone to see The Almost at UWO. I wouldn’t have met my roommate and close friend Ashley Andersen (who is also an #SAgrad at St. Cloud State) if we had not had a mutual friend in a local Milwaukee band called Mechanical Kids that led me to sending her a really weird Facebook message asking her joining Reeve Union Board.

If it wasn’t for the metal band I was in, I wouldn’t have one of my best friends, Dylan.

If it wasn’t for concert planning, I wouldn’t have my best friend, Charley!

If it wasn’t for Twitter, I wouldn’t have met fellow Circa Survive family member, Mark Delaney!

My buddy, Charley, and I have been through so much
music together--planning shows, playing shows, booking bands,
stage managing. Everything. We were even elected to run the OSU
Memorial Union Program Council together. He now drums in a
Pop Rock band in Portland, OR called, Blue Ember. Check them out!

I wouldn’t have succeeded in college without my love for music.

I don’t even know if I would have made it to college without it.

I wouldn’t have found my calling as a Student Affairs professional if I hadn’t pursued concert planning for student organizations. Music brought me to Student Affairs.

I wouldn’t be going into student affairs, and I wouldn’t know the incredible human being I am writing this blog with. I owe everything important in my life to music.

And I actually feel I owe my life to music.

Specifically, “Gravity,” by A Perfect Circle, which is a beautiful song that I clung to shortly after I survived a suicide attempt. The song repeats the line, “I choose to live.” This line has stuck with me throughout my life and it most definitely helped me through one of the most difficult moments of my life. I will soon add these words to one of my tattoo sleeves and it will serve as a reminder that music truly can save lives. And that the opportunity to live is a beautiful thing.

*          *          *

That’s the end of part one of our two-part Music Worship blog series!

Make sure to check back next week as we discuss the healing power of live music.

And to tide you over, here is the first of two playlists we will release for this blog series!

Let’s save the goodbyes for tomorrow at lunch.

Katy Hamm’s #MusicWorshipPlaylist:

(Click to load the Spotify Playlist!)

1. “The Last Lost Continent” – La Dispute

2. “Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today” – Fall Out Boy

3.  “I Won’t Say the Lord’s Prayer” – The Wonder Years

4. “Strange Comfort” – The Color Morale

5. “Floorboards” – Real Friends

6. “Diva” - Beyonce

7. “Ebolorama” – Every Time I Die

8. “Why It Scares Me” – La Dispute

9. “Youth” - Daughter

10. “Don’t Let Her Pull You Down” – New Found Glory

11. “Swords and Pens” The Story So Far

12. “Level Head” – Have Mercy

13. “Bad Girls”  M.I.A.

14. “We Still Believe” – Stick to Your Guns

15. “Head Up, Kid!” – Major League

16. “Wobble” – V.I.C.

17. “Play Crack the Sky” – Brand New

18. “Shake It Out” – Manchester Orchestra

19. “Siberian Kiss” - Glassjaw                                                                

20. “Heartbreaker” – Pat Benatar

21. “GINASFS” – Fall Out Boy

22. “Snake Eyes” – Sworn In

23. “Criminal” – Fiona Apple

24. “Understatement” – New Found Glory

Such Sweet Naivety

My Transition from a Deer in Headlights to a (somewhat) Paraprofessional

Me as the student body president at Oregon State's Convocation in 2010

There I was—or, am, I suppose—ready to take on the entire world and be all that and a bag of chips, you know? My eyes were set on dominating the world of Higher Education as a Student Affairs professional, but first I needed to be accepted into a graduate program.

So over a year ago, I applied. Naturally.

The end of January rolled around…

I received a denial letter. I was devastated.

I frantically looked over my resume, cover letters, and wept.

“What happens if all of the schools deny me?”

“Where will I go?” “What will I do?”

“WHAT IF NO ONE WANTS ME?!”

I was afraid of not being accepted.

It was middle school all over again.

It was high school all over again.

It was college…you get the point.

I hardly spoke to anyone who wasn’t my father or my partner.

Three days passed.

I received an acceptance letter. I relaxed.

Then I received another. And another.

Okay—I could breathe.

I visited and interviewed with institutions across the country. I talked a big game and felt confident in everything I had to say—no surprise there. I threw out higher ed/student affairs jargon that I’d picked up along my way through my undergraduate experiences as a student leader and really emphasized my charm.

Over-emphasized my charm.

I had to make up for the fact that I was scared out of my mind for what the future held. What I was most afraid of was that I wasn’t completely prepared to enter this field.

I was so naïve to think that I could just enter this field and understand everything expected of me and immediately hit the ground running with specific higher education topics. But it wasn’t until I later came into my own in graduate school that I would realize that it is okay to be afraid.

When I made my decision to attend UMass.

When I made the decision to attend UMass Amherst, I wasn’t completely sure how my actual development into a higher education professional would transform. All I knew was that this was the route for me. I could feel it.

But, as I said, I genuinely had no idea what it meant to me.

Until now.

One year later, I am changed.

I moved across the country, started a new life, and have made new friends.

I am in a rigorous Higher Education Administration MEd program and I am challenged every day to consider how I can one day change the landscape of higher education. I entered as a deer in headlights with no real understanding of what to expect—talked my big game, watched that fail, and now I and have become humbled by this experience.

I am in meetings with administrators who want my opinions on things.

I am on search committees.

I hold office hours.

I have also had many conversations with cohort colleagues, faculty, and friends about my insecurities and am now comfortable taking a few steps back before I run full speed ahead.

If I don’t have an answer, I ask for help.

I don’t just make one up.

Note: I am also working real hard at not man-terrupting anymore.

I regret ever being a naïve prospective grad student. However, looking back, it was inevitable.

I peruse Twitter and read about students on the #SAGradHunt and their fears are real. I’ve felt those fears. I was there last year.

The lack of sleep.

The inability to know what the future held.

The insecurity of being accepted into a program.

To those students, I repeat a timeless sentiment passed on to me during my grad school hunt:

Don’t stress, trust the process.

[UPDATE: I have since come to despise this phrase because I feel it gives people too much false hopes, while at the same time beleaguering others from moving forward in this field.]

I know I just rambled a bit after claiming to have been changed after one year of life—but that’s the nature of the mind: tangents.

Back to reality, I am changed because I now possess and continue to accumulate the vernacular to discuss and engage topics unlike one year ago when I grasped for straws to cling together two intangible ideas to create one somewhat coherent thought.

Last week.

One year ago I was afraid to competently confront and discuss a wide array of topics—white privilege, class, race, gender, finance, oppression, discrimination, etc… But you wouldn’t have been able to tell because I masked those insecurities with a level head and self-confidence—which I still often hide behind. Or, maybe those around could tell—I have no idea what my tells are anymore since I quit playing poker regularly.

And maybe I'm still a little naive—that's to be expected. I mean, I still have much learning ahead of me in my grad program and in my emergence into the world of being an actual professional in this field. Yet, I am going to continue focusing on learning everyday so that I continue to grow in confidence and experience.

However, I have found a common ground with my fellow #SAGrad colleagues in the reality that this is all a process. We must trust the process. We don’t have all of the answers. We probably won’t for a while, but that doesn’t mean we can’t ask for help.

We also don’t need to get too far ahead of ourselves, fellow grad students. Enjoy the process, enjoy learning. Be one with our experiences. Worry about the job search when it comes. For now, become the best you. Be authentic. Be you.

I hope some of this made sense.

Be well.