Showing posts with label Fight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fight. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Growing Pains (and a rant)


When I was about 21, I read a book of poetry by Galway Kinnell for a class (A New Selected Poems, left).  I remember really liking it at the time, which was surprising, because I wasn’t particularly interested in much poetry back then.  But as is often the case with books you read for school, I eventually kind of forgot about it. Then, out of nowhere, about three years ago or so, while I was in law school, a line from one of the poems came into my head while I was studying, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, trying to remember exactly what it was.  There was nothing for it but to go look it up.  Here it is:

“ …Carriages we were babies in,
Springs that used to resist love, that gave in
And were thrown out like whores – the black
Irreducible heap, mausoleum of what we were –
It is cold suddenly, we feel chilled,
Nobody knows for sure what is left of him.”

Anyway, at the time, this line haunted me.  I remember thinking, “Yeah.  That’s it.  This is what growing up is.”  You give in to other people, to yourself, to your “future” and you become this vacant, tossed-out, wasteland that you can practically hear the wind whistling through, cold and numb and just plain finished with the world. 

Cut to today.  I woke up this morning and I was excited to start the day.  I went for a rambling run in the snow.  I had coffee with a friend, and we talked about how change happens in society.  (I’ll get to that in a minute – it ties into all of this.)  We also talked about how long I plan to stay in Szczecin, Poland, or Europe.  I went to school and talked to Zenon about arrangements for my visa.  He gave me a work permission form to take to the consulate that is valid for up to two years, should I choose to stay.  And I’m not 100% sure of much about my life right now, but I’m pretty sure of this: I’m not going back to living in the States anytime soon. 

Why?  On my walk home, the snow was driving into my face, and I was thinking about how annoyed I would have been about the weather last winter, but how beautiful I find it now.  I even took the long way home so I could walk around a bit more and take a few snow photos.  And I realized that this is how change happens in a person.  You do things that are hard.  You make friends who open your world up.  You figure out what’s important to you, and you do something about it.  I’m actually going back to being the person I was before I began wondering ‘what was left of me.’  I’ve been thinking about all the ways I can try to do some good in the world again, focusing in like a laser on all the things that are truly important and trying to let the rest of it go.  Caring about other people is important (that includes family, friends, students, co-workers, random people on the street, whoever).  How I spend the minutes and hours of my life is important.  What I look like, how much money I make, or my “career path” are not important.  

Actually, I’ve been anxious lately. My roommate is moving to GdaƄsk at the end of the month.  I have a trip back to the US ahead of me, and when I come back from the States, life is going to be different than it is now.  Honestly, I’ve kind of been dreading Christmas coming.  (Sorry, everyone back home.  I really love you and I am absolutely looking forward to seeing you all again, I promise.)  And I’ve been a little worried about what’s going on with some people I care about, both here and at home.  It's been sort of painful to see how when you really care about things again, when you really love your life, you have more to lose when things change.  But today I realized this is all the way it's supposed to be.  If your life does change, and they aren't the changes you wanted, or if you get hurt, or if you have to find your bearings again, that doesn’t mean that you’ve made the wrong decisions, or that you shouldn’t have let people in, or that you failed.  It just means you have to be strong and make some new decisions.  And all  these things I care about are the things that have made me stronger.  The ability to really care about my life again has made me stronger.

And I’m not saying I have to be in Poland to feel this way, but I don’t think I can be in the US.  And here’s why: when I was talking to my friend about how change happens in society, I told him how pissed off I am at the culture of apathy back home.  We didn’t get the health-care bill we wanted?  Oh, let’s just bitch about it over a beer and then vote for basically the same people again in four years.  Hmm, or maybe we could sue someone about it… Our food has disgusting amounts of chemicals and pesticides in it, but I’ll feed it to my kid anyway, because it’s cheaper, and we’ve gotta pay for our two cars, the home we can’t afford, and all of this shit we think we need.  The only group of people raising any kind of fuss right now in the States is the goddamned Tea Party.  The people who actually have the fewest problems to bitch about.  I hate almost everything they stand for, but I can admit to grudging respect for them right now, because at least they actually care about something.  Enough to do something – anything – about it.  People in the UK have been pouring into the streets by the thousands because the government is cutting funding for education.  They don’t think it’s a privilege that only the rich should be able to take advantage of.  When I first heard about it, I thought ‘Oh, please.  You should see how bad it is in my country.’  But that’s bullshit.  It’s that bad back home because nobody bothered to stand up and fight about it.  Nobody cared if poor people went to school.  They didn't think it would be their kids.  The American Dream, and all.

Basically, the American Dream killed America (and it made me feel pretty much dead inside, too).  It’s all about the idea that if you keep your head down and work your ass off for your entire life at a ‘good’ job, maybe you can ‘own’ property (as if you can ever really own anything), maybe you’ll be one of the elite that has enough money to send your kids to school and look down your nose at the people who “didn’t work hard enough.”  No thought to things like community, compassion, passion or (heaven forbid) finding some meaning in life. No thought to anything other than material success.  And even those people who don't believe in it don't want to get off of their comfy sofas and fight back. Well, if America can’t dream any better than that, I don’t ever want to go back. I don't belong there anymore.  I care too much.