great expectations

It is no surprise that I am my greatest enemy. I’m impulsive, I am not very organized, and I am self-defeating. Yet, beneath it all, I believe, is a great potential. It is perhaps this potential, this possibility for greatness, that fuels the seasickness of my ego; a constant vacillation between a tremendous ambition and an ever-present feeling of dread.

It’s a week into the semester and I’m feeling a bit drained. I have not done a good job of anticipating the tidal wave which is the school year. This summer, as I have already said, was mild and calm. I spent time collecting myself, getting things in order, and taking stock of a tumultuous year. Yet, the semester has begun and I feel already partially undone. Whatever tidying and sealing I did this summer has already started to fray at the edges and untie itself. This much is to be expected, but not at so rapid a pace. A summer spent reading and trying to inhabit the spirit of the “specialist,” to feel knowledgeable about a certain topic or corpus; one week has thrown an entire three months into question. Yet, I refuse to let graduate school rob me of my charisma and of my sense of power.

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year in review: onwards

If you try your best, you can.
If you try your best, you can.
The best you can is good enough.

“Optimistic,” Radiohead, Kid A

It’s the end of August and school is about to start again. For the past month, I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel about my upcoming second year of graduate school. Throughout this summer I’ve been slowly and carefully reading the marginalia from my first year of graduate study, unpacking situations, reliving conversations, and trying to learn from my experiences. I was unhappy, perhaps the most unhappy I’ve ever been in my life. Everything I had once thought about myself, the great pillar of my self-worth, seemed suddenly called into question. I was worried that I had made a mistake in coming to grad school, or in picking Yale, or in deciding on a research topic which seemed to get more frayed and frayed at its edges. I was unsure of what it meant to be a scholar, of how scholarly writing or scholarly reading should look. I was disenchanted with academia and uncertain of the weight of my dreams. I was unsure of myself as a person, not really aware of how people understood me, displeased with how my friends had begun to treat me, and unsure of how to remedy these situations. I was very lonely, and I felt at times as if no one wanted to be around me. I began to think I was a person undeserving of close friends.

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transitions

New adventures. New spaces. New directions for the blog.

I’ve been thinking over what it is that I want from this blog. I’ve had weird fantasies about what this blog could do for me, and in a way I felt like I was guiding it to do one specific thing, when in reality I need it be multipurpose. This is, in many ways, a public diary, and that’s fine, but it wasn’t always this way. My earlier posts were often focused on a particular political topic, like representation, otherness, and marginalization, but when I went to Senegal in the Spring of 2016, I began writing more confessional pieces, and that scared a lot of people. I find that it’s a little strange to read information about a person which stems from a part of their life you had never seen or experienced before. The gullies and valleys of our minds, those sun-starved places that we prefer to keep hidden, are often the greatest wells of inspiration. As someone who has been in many ways forced to be introspective, I have to consider these sites, the depressive ridges, the elephant graveyards, to be worthy sites of exploration in the mental cartography of “self-discovery.”

This blog has been a roadmap for that process, insofar that it forces me to 1) process my thoughts and, more difficulty, my emotions 2) distill them into meaningful, human language 3) adulterate that information for general consumption. Even if it has changed form, I don’t necessarily feel bad about those changes. For one, I’ve been having this weird issue of credibility lately. I feel as if I know only a brief overview of what I’m studying, and have only recently become conscious of larger systems at play. Throughout this blog I have been talking about these systems, and with each post I am able to better see the inner workings and the interconnections, but still I feel somewhat weirded out about the idea of sharing my thoughts on these cultural and political issues considering my mere 21 years of experience and the readings I skimmed for a course. Hopefully that fades, but that is one of the reasons I decided to stop writing about these issues.

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