Haggling

My mom didn't really haggle me to write another post... but she did remind me that I was going to try to post once a week. I tend to not follow through on those kinds of promises... but alas, I will try!

So here is what the world looks like to me nowadays. My sunny apartment, and a frozen wasteland. I try to avoid stepping outdoors if I can. I would gladly give up a daily shower to live in a place that did not get so freaking cold!

So I am in a class right now called Social and Cultural Diversity, and as much as love those topics in general, I was not looking forard to this class. The way this school shoves diversity down our throats here gets a little sickening. But the class is surpsisingly refreshing, since we're being taught by an adjunct who works for the DISCOVERY CHANNEL!

Anyway, we had an assignment in which we had to talk in depth about our identities. As I was writing it, I thought "this would be a good blog post". Pardon me if it's redundant; I'm killing two birds with one stone here. Here's to getting an A!

           My identity is linked to those who are most important in my life: my mother and father, brother and sister, my extended family, my friends, and my boyfriend.  Not only have these people helped shape me into who I am, but they also influence my decisions because I know that the decisions I make will affect their lives.  For this reason, I try to make the decisions which will most positively reflect upon them.  I was taught this value from a very young age; embarrassing the family was something I was never to do.  I remember one time at a family reunion I talked back to my mom in front of a huge group of people. This memory sticks out to me because I remember the shame that I felt on her behalf, which caused me to feel ashamed, too.

            As I have grown up and become more independent of my family, my friends have become more a part of my identity. When I first came to North Park, I felt identity-less because I was far away from my high school friends, and had no one here.  I scrambled to find people to put into my circle, and clutched at any connection I made, no matter how small. These times were hard for me, because I ended up finding myself with people who didn’t share similar values as me.  I ended up with people who did not appreciate me for who I was, and who backstabbed and gossiped behind my back.  After being here four years, I have few friends from that time in my life, although the ones who have remained since the beginning are some of my most loyal friends. For the most part though, I have encountered new people along the way.   I feel that I now have the most solid group of friends that I have ever had. We are like-minded, both in nature and because of how we’ve shaped each other. It scares me to think about us going our separate ways in the coming future. However, I have become more rooted in the person that I am over these four years.  I don’t think that my identity comes as much from people anymore, although people have helped create the foundation. I believe that I can go fourth and do what I feel called to do, and that certain people will remain in my life, and that others will come in as needed.

            There is a certain truth onto which I cling, and as Sunday-school as this may sound, I have to believe that my identity is foremost that of a daughter of Christ.  I can feel his calling to me.  The more I listen, the more direction he gives. I realize now that some of the past events of my life were not random; rather they are inextricably linked to my destiny.  I never saw myself becoming a teacher, even after I started down the education track at North Park, I still had this tugging fear that I was not on the right path. As I continued my studies here, and found that I really had a passion for the Spanish language and for Latin American culture, I wondered if I should give up the whole being a teacher thing, and focus my studies on my “real” passion. I discovered after actually teaching in a classroom, though, that I really am passionate about teaching. I realized that my two passions were not mutually exclusive; rather, they harmonize with each other in such a way that I believe my destiny is to pursue both, never having to chose one over the other. Someday I plan to move to Latin America and be a teacher there, and maybe open a school. I have big dreams and I know that a lot of preparation must come first, but I am thrilled to have a sense of purpose. It is a God-given purpose, and that is the most fulfilling objective that I could never have imagined for myself.

            As I am on the brink of emerging into the real-world, I pray that I will not lose sight of who I am and who I feel called to be.  I worry that money will become too important to me, especially as I try to pay off my loans. This is an area in which I feel my identities colliding. To not be able to pay off my loans would be a great shame to my family and quite frankly would ruin them as I know that they would then have to take responsibility for it.  However, I know that the places to which I feel called hold no promise of great money.  I worry about my faith slipping and that I will lose trust in God to be the great provider that he is, and that I will take a job that I know is not right for me simply because it will pay better.

            Today though, and for the coming months, I can only trust and hope that what is meant to happen will happen.  I look back on my life and I see that everything happened for a reason, and I have to believe that that will continue to be the case. I will cherish the relationships that God has blessed me with, and continue to seek ideas and values in other people which I want for myself. These people will be those who hold me accountable. I know my brother, for instance, will never let me become a money-hungry yuppie.  My boyfriend will continue to encourage me to fight injustice, as he himself strives to be an injustice fighter.  My parents will never let me forget who my God is, and as much as it annoys me sometimes, I take great comfort in the fact that my mom will never stop asking me how my “walk with God” is.  As I look back on my life, I see that although my identity was first constructed by the people in my life, it can now stand alone because it is rooted in my faith and values, only needing maintenance once in awhile.