Last week was one of the most awkward and uncomfortable weeks of the semester. And I loved it. Thanks to my classes, I was forced to immerse myself in situations that made me the minority. I was surrounded by people and ideas I didn’t understand. And for a know-it-all like me, that was painful. But I learned. And that’s my favorite thing to do.
My fish-out-of-water experiences began with my service-learning project at Gladstone High School. For one of my journalism classes, we help advise the yearbook staff at Gladstone. I was not sure how I’d be received since my background is obviously so much different than my Latino students. What was I to share with them? But then it hit me; maybe these girls had something to teach me, too. Afterall, one of the girls in my group is a 16 year old mother who not only goes to school but it also involved in a medical assistant training program. Talk about a lesson in responsibility. I walked away from my visit so excited for the reciprocal learning that I’m sure is to come in the next six weeks.
Next up, I had to attend a campus event that was sponsored by a group different than my own ethnicity. So I decided on a Black Student Awareness meeting. I’ll be honest... I was terrified. Growing up in a white upper middle class suburb, I’ve had limited exposure to the African American culture. Sure, I’ve spent the last three summers in South Africa, but that’s completely different culture. Coming into the meeting, I wasn’t sure how I would be received. And I wasn’t sure how to act. Should I just be quite and observe? Well that might come off like I don’t care. Should I participate? But who am I to offer anything to their discussion? I don’t want to be offensive.
During the meeting we discussed issues facing black youth. I attentively listened to the black students share their own personal experiences. I was intrigued. I wanted to ask so many questions but tried to stay on the conservative side of annoying. I left the meeting feeling so inspired. Here was a group of people taking an active stand on something they cared deeply about. I continued to think about the meeting throughout the next day. Their passion caught my curiosity. I think I’m going back.
I ended my week of week of awkward at a prayer service at a Muslim mosque. Talk about being nervous. I had prepared all week but still had no idea what to expect. I sat bright eyed, with my head covered, on the floor in the back. I took it all in in awe. The simplicity and sanctity of the service was touching. For the first time, I saw Muslims as people of faith, not hate. I had been so quick to generalize that I had never taken the chance to see them through any eyes but those tainted with judgment.
I left all of these events wanting more. I have so much to learn. And the know-it-all in me wants learn it all now. Some things can only be learned with experience. But why not jump-start that learning by actively pursuing those experiences?
The uncomfortable was well worth it. I hope I never get to a place where things are comfortable. Because that's when I stop learning. And that’s just boring. So bring on the awkward.
