Category: Junior Literary

“How do you like living in Brookhaven?” I’m honestly kinda tired of being asked that repeated question. Is it different? Yes. Very different- not necessarily in a bad way, but it’s much smaller. In fact, It’s about 1/5 the size.When I go to California and Utah, I realize that there’s a lot of cities I consider big- Hattiesburg is not one of them. But I never realized how big it is until I came here, where you can drive 20 minutes and already know where everything is.

In geometry the other day, the students and teacher were talking about how they couldn’t live in Hattiesburg. “No offense Katie Spiers,” my teacher added to her criticism of my home town. “It’s too big. I don’t think I’ve even seen grass there.” I couldn’t help but laugh at this comment (Not out loud of course). If she thinks Hattiesburg is that big, I wonder what she would think of California. 

I never stay on the weekends here, so I don’t really have a perspective on what there is and isn’t to do. A lot of people say Hattiesburg has so much to do, and when you compare the options, I can see why people think it’s so big. There we have a mall, 2 movie theaters (one with an arcade), a skating rink, laser tag, trampoline park, escape rooms, bowling ally, many good stores and thrift shops, and countless restaurants. Actually, as I sat there and typed that out, it changed my idea of how lame it is because it actually has a pretty good variety of things to do. Also, let me make a distinct thought of mine clear: just because a town is small doesn’t mean its lame. yes, I did just think of that. On the other hand, Brookhaven has some things to do too, sure it doesn’t compare to all the things Hattiesburg has, but it’s the small things that count. Especially in this instance. Something that surprises me about this quaint town is that, no matter the size, It has a very sufficient number of bakeries. I think I’ve counted 3 so far. I’ve only been to one, but mannn it was good. I’ve heard only good things about the others, so i’ll take the local people’s word for its decency. Other than the bakeries, there are a pretty good amount of fast food restaurants and thrift stores (sadly though, I have been to no thrift stores- I know. tragic). Oh! And they also have a movie theater really close, but that doesn’t really apply to me because I’m a msa student- meaning I have no time. Or money. I honestly don’t think i’m experienced in the town enough to write about it due to the fact that I’ve only been living here for about a month in a half, so I don’t really know everything that’s here, which I’m sure that will change give or take a couple months. Even though I haven’t lived here that long, I’m really warming up to this little town and all the amazing people in it.

Outside, the view from my room at home and the view from my dorm room at school are so incredibly different at night. At home, the pale moonlight would shine it’s gentle light through my blinds and it would always call me to my window. I could see my back yard turned almost black by the clear starry night with the shadows of all the tall pine trees being lengthened by the radiating white moon. At school, I look outside and see the buildings that remind me of New Orleans, compacted together, lit up by lights strung through the town, reminding me of Christmas. Both are so beautiful, but so different. It reminds me of people in a way, Hattiesburg representing one, Brookhaven representing another- everything about them is so different, giving them the trait of uniqueness everyone possesses, and yet, they are both equally as beautiful. Weather they are lit up my strung lights, or the smiling moon, both create a warming comfort while enjoying their features.

There will probably be a part 2 to this… just letting you know 😉

 

 

 

This blog post completely snuck up on me. I wanted to do another playlist but I’ll just save it for next week. For now, enjoy this poem that I wrote from last year. I remember being so proud of this poem. It was the first poem I ever submitted for a writing competition. I wrote this one day after school. I just joined the literary magazine at my school. The teacher asked us to bring a poem in for workshop but I’d never wrote a full poem before. All my other “poems” were 4-5 lines and complete trash. This poem just came to me. I’d been feeling very active lately and I needed my peace and quiet. The girl in the poem is me but also the girl in my head. It sounds weird but it’s just the voice in my head. I see her as this girl and its like two people in my head at once. I’m okay I promise lol. But here’s my poem, “Silence”, I’m thinking about going back and working on this poem again but let me know what you guys think 🙂

Silence

The sunlight shines through the cream-colored blinds.
The birds have a steady tune that bounces from a crescendo to a low decrescendo.
The lively tree branch taps on her window, begging for her attention.
The two lively squirrels across the street have an on-going game of tag. If you listen close enough you can hear the squeals of excitement between the two.
The grass shines bright, almost as if each blade had a mirror on it, reflecting the happy sun.
The concrete shines with the shadows of the sun, while it dances a wild tango.
The people laugh and shout out in joy while they bask in the temporary weather that won’t show itself for another two months.
And yet, she sits upon her bed with a frown upon her face.
Voices scream around in her head. They won’t stop. They only get louder and louder and louder.
They become so loud she can’t hear the one voice calling her name.
The one voice that will lead her into the light.
The one voice that will let her hear the squeals of the two friendly squirrels.
The one voice that will let her hear the persistent tapping of the tree branch.
The one voice that will lead her to the one thing she truly wants.
Silence.

In 2014, journalists at the Washington Post conducted a study on the history of the n-word. Here’s a video they created: https://www.washingtonpost.com/video/national/the-n-word-through-history/2014/11/09/0c3b6a08-669a-11e4-ab86-46000e1d0035_video.html

After watching, I started thinking. We all know where the n-word came from, or at least most of us do (if you don’t, I highly recommend watching the video I linked above). But what about our history and background? A person’s upbringing plays a big part in who they are and what they believe. For instance, I grew up in a multicultural home with a black mother and a Hispanic father.  The n-word was not a word I heard either of them use. In fact, I didn’t hear the word until I was in middle school, but I had no clue what it meant or the history behind it. However, I still didn’t say it. I knew that there was a reason that my parents never said it, so I assumed that I shouldn’t say it either. I realized that maybe the reason I don’t say the n-word is because of the way I was raised. I wanted to know if others’ upbringing correlated with why or why not they say the n-word or not. So, I asked:

Does your background have anything to do with why or why not you say the n-word and/or does it depend on your culture?

Azya Lyons says, “Being mixed, I grew up around the most ghetto black people and the most preppy white people, but I just picked up a lot of the attributes of black culture.”

“Yes, in the black community, there’s so many different cultures. There’s a bunch of black people who don’t say the n-word or people who grew up saying it but don’t anymore. I respect black people who don’t say it, and I wish I didn’t grow up in a community that used it so loosely. I’m kind of on the edge of the fence though. I relate to saying it because of the community I grew up in; I didn’t see the issue at first, but now I can kinda see it, but it’s also just something that I’ve been comfortable with, so I think that it’s the community and the people that you hang around. I mean, I know Hispanics that say the n-word because they grew up in a black community. They were treated as black people, so it wasn’t a big deal. But I’m not gonna go around saying, ‘I’m gonna go get my chaclas’….that’s weird. I’m not Hispanic. And I know that’s not a derogatory word, but it’s out of place. That’s not my culture. So while it isn’t cultural appropriation, it kind of is, if you get what I’m saying,” adds Carter Skipwith.

The next question I asked was:

Is the n-word significant to you or your culture?

“To me, it’s not just a word. Simply because of the times we’re in now. Personally, I think we shouldn’t say it at all because I don’t wanna decode what you’re saying or try to decipher how you intended the word to mean. Because that word can switch between meanings, and it’s not what you say, but how you say it,” said Elijah Karriem.

Skipwith says, “I try not to give it power. I don’t prefer any other races say it. Because with white people, they get called a cracker, but there’s literally no meaning behind that. It’s nothing serious. I mean if you get offended at the word cracker then why can’t I get offended at the word nigga. Because it does have many meanings. The way that I use it is like friendly. I feel like when I use it, I don’t give it that much power; it’s just a word I’m using. But I’m trying to stop using it because I’m looking at it differently now. Now, I view it as a word of entrapment. A lot of people in the black community call themselves the n-word, saying that they are one. And I’m like, No, that’s not what we are. We’re black. We’re not n-words. You know what I mean? So, personally, I think that it can mean something loosely, but it’s also rooted with hate. It’s a very hateful word if you use it the wrong way, and it’s a very risky word to use. And that’s something I’ve had to realize as I’ve gotten older.” 

In 2018, The Washington Post furthered their dive into the n-word by creating a video project consisting of 10 videos. The videos explore the n-word with the interviewing of people of all races including college students, athletes, talk show hosts, and even KKK member, Byron De La Beckwith Jr. It features topics like ‘the n-word being used in hip-hop/comedy,’ ‘how the n-word will be used 30 years from now,’ and more. The project is powerful and evocative. The videos are great in number and very lengthy. They also have explicit language such as the use of the n-word, but this is to be expected. Therefore I do not presume that you’ll watch the entire project, but I do urge you to watch at least 2 or 3 of the videos that pique interests.  https://www.washingtonpost.com/video/national/introduction–the-n-word-project/2018/12/28/50efb214-5c9c-4e17-be48-f1d809e59154_video.html

Inspired by the project, I asked my peers some of the same questions that were asked in the videos. I was really interested to know what people thought about the change in spelling the n-word has had over the years and if the meaning changed with it. I asked:

Do you think that by taking the -er off and replacing it with -a has made a difference in what the word means?

Karriem said this, “To me, it’s all the same. It originated from one word. It’s like a tree: you start from the bottom and progress to the top, but you’re still on that same tree. And if the word has changed, then let others of different ethnicities use it too.

I also wanted to know what people thought about the connotation of the n-word.

Do you think that the n-word has a negative or positive connotation? Has it changed over time? 

To this, Karriem said, “A black person once told me that I “act white” because I am educated and self-educated. I just don’t get that. To say that I act of another race, that puts down on our race, but uplifting the other race. So, to say that, you are putting not only me but yourself down. Like now it’s more common when you think black people to think: ratchet, sagging pants, and uneducated— you think of the n-word. So yes, it is negative.”

“The word was originally used to degrade us. It means thug, so if someone is acting like that then, yeah, I will use the word. But as a term of endearment, I can’t do that because that’s basically saying someone is my property. That word does not mean anything good. It’s a racial slur! You can’t make that into something positive.”

My former classmate said differently. He says “I don’t think it should be socially acceptable because it was once degrading, but no, I don’t think it holds the same connotation anymore.”

“That’s a difficult question. I think that it originated in a negative way, but now is being used positively. Not by everyone, but I use it as a term for ‘friend’. It just depends on how you use it— like most words,” says Stephyne Weathersby. 

The n-word is used widely and frequently. However, where is it that it is used most commonly and where people seem to hear it most? The answer is simple: music. For many years, the n-word has been used in the lyrics of so many artists and rappers— many of whom who are against people of other ethnicities using the word. This prompted the question:

What do you think about artists and rappers who release music with the n-word in their songs?

Skipwith says, “With rappers, that’s their art, and they’re letting you enjoy it. People can say whatever they want, but it still doesn’t make it right. Rappers and artists make music as a form of expression. If a person of another race says ‘nigga’ in a song, I’m not gonna like make a big fuss, but c’mon now. That’s someone else’s culture. Don’t overdo it. But that’s like when you’re in the car with your parents and you hear a curse word, you ain’t gone say it, you gone skip the word. Why can’t you do that with the word nigga? That’s my take on it.”

However, Karriem disagrees. He says, “How can you release a song to the public and tell people not to use a word written in the lyrics? Or say that other audiences have to replace it with something, just don’t use it at all.”

Similarly, Cedrick Smith states, “I remember watching Oprah and Kanye West was on there, and they had a discussion on why he used the n-word in his songs. And he said he was taking the word back and making something postive out of it. First of all, the music that he makes is not empowering black people. It is tearing them down.”

The n-word is a word with many meanings and significance. How you choose to use the word is up to you. However, I challenge you to ask yourself why or why not you use the n-word? Is creating a community? Are you a part of that repeating cycle of hate? I hope this delve into the n-word and its many layers made you realize things that you have before.  Ask yourself these questions, and make a choice, a change, or a correction.

 

[the poll results of the next topic will be up next week!]

 

 

 

I dedicate this poem to the one that has captured my heart. Although you have always had a role in my life, I have recently grown to appreciate your presence even more. So I dedicate these words to you, my friend, as you deserve nothing but the highest of praise. I hope they reach you, land in your heart, elicit a smile. You deserve the recognition.

---

The sun rises,

And I abandon the thought of you

With melted bean soup.

But you continue to linger,

A reminder of a respite in my mind,

And I carry the sun on my shoulders

With arms laden with books.

I hold the thought of you

In my palm throughout the day,

And I smile at it periodically

With it smiling back at me.

The hours we are separated,

The heap of minutes we are apart,

Stack up into nothingness

With no hint of vivid color.

And as I travel through time,

Through morning, afternoon, etc.,

I only fight my way back to you

With my shoulders heavy, slumped.

You never fail to be there,

When the day has saturated me,

And I fall into your arms

With strained and weary eyes.

Dear sleep,

I love you.

Sincerely, me

---

Sometimes a certain emotion can well up inside of your chest, and you have to empty it before it overflows. For instance, I had to write this poem so that I could ponder something other than its subject. Who knew love could be so distracting? Anyway, I hope that this tugs at your heart strings in some way. I am relatively a stranger to sharing my personal emotions through writing, but I know that, whenever you feel deeply about something or someone, the poem practically writes itself (for more wisdom, please subscribe to receive regular, weekly updates). Anyway, I encourage you to try your hand at writing love poems. The literary world deserves your thoughts, after all. Personally, I would love to read a poem dedicated to a favorite food or a beloved pet cat. So please write about how lasagna has stolen your heart. And if you do not consider yourself a writer, why not give it a try? You do not have to be the Van Gogh of writing, only yourself writing about what you adore.

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This Wednesday’s Fun Fact:

When in desperate times of need, White-Out will serve as an adhesive (like glue).

Howdy folks. I find it humorous to say howdy because I live in the South, and people don’t actually say that here(I would be interested to know who seriously says that). Anyway, that’s off topic. What we are really talking about today is why I’m spontaneous. It may also answer why you are spontaneous (if you consider yourself as such). So I’m going to breakdown the spontaneous situations in my life, and explain my reasoning.

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Spontaneous Situation #1

At my old private school (before I went to public school in high-school) students were not allowed to get multiple piercings. This was fine with me because I only had my lobes pierced, and I didn’t want anything else. Until later in May I started obsessing about getting a rook piercing, as well as a helix piercing. Here’s the thing, I didn’t know what those two words meant before-hand, but I researched for hours on piercings (so now I have useless information about different types of piercings). 

After I wasted my life on researching piercings, pain level, and piercing places, I found a place to pierce my ears. Keep in mind that this happened all in one day. So I presented to my mom the idea of me getting multiple piercings. Her question was:

“Why do you want this all of a sudden?”

I honestly had no clue other than the fact that I just wanted it. So, after some convincing, I got my ear piercings, they healed—it was a good time.

Spontaneous Situation #2

Throughout my whole life I typically had long hair. During freshman year I had hair down to my waist. You wanna know all the cutesy styles I did with said hair? Two words: pony-tail & bun. That’s it, because I hated my hair being down.

After a while I got sick of wearing the same style, and one random day I wanted to get it cut. So I began obsessing over the thought of getting my hair cut. 

I didn’t care if I had to go to Walmart to get it done. I wanted it gone. So, I told my mother, and she was confused why I wanted to do this all of a sudden.

“I just want to be able to stop putting my hair up. I want to make an effort.” I said to her.

The next day we got my hair cut at some hair place, and boy did they screw it up. Tufts of my hair were sticking out, it wouldn’t go straight. 

“Aw, ain’t that a cute cut. That looks real cute.” The barber lady said.

Yeah, I regretted that spontaneous decision…

Spontaneous decision #3

It was sophomore year, and it was about time for me to do some random mess. This time, it was bangs. My hair had grown out from the demon barber lady’s work, and I wanted something new.

This time my mother talked some sense into me, and we went to the lady that does her hair. She gave me long bangs, and even fixed the mess that the last hair-cutter did. When she was done, I was in love. It really added a lot more to my face. It was a great decision.

Spontaneous decision #4

When I was at camp last summer, I got someone to pierce my cartilage with a safety pin. It was late at night, and all the girls started getting their lobes pierced by this lady. So I wanted to get one as well. 

So I grabbed an earring, and got my left ear pierced. It didn’t hurt, and I have really enjoyed having it (I want my daith done next).

Spontaneous decision #5

Last weekend I looked in the mirror, and wanted my hair cut up to my ears. I started looking at pictures of people with the hair-cut I wanted, then I talked to my mom.

“I think we should cut my hair really short.” I said to her.

“No, you’re not going to cut your pretty hair. Why are you saying this all of a sudden? Are you okay?”

I was perfectly fine, and was just being impulsive. So after some convincing I got it done that day at Sports Clips (a men’s barber shop). It was race car themed, and they had football playing. Two things I could care less about, but they had massage chairs!

Now my hair is cut short, but not up to my ears (you’re welcome Mom)

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Here’s my reasoning for why I am so spontaneous:

In my past, I have been restricted to stay the same way, and in the same mentality. By changing things about myself, it helps me feel like I’m not controlled. It really eases my mind, and also allows me to try new things. 

My question for you is (if you are spontaneous), why are you? Think about it. You may be surprised by the answer.

 

The birds in the tree

see more things that I could ever see

I wonder what it feels like to be

that free?

They see me when I walk,

they see me when I smile

and they see me when I cry.

The birds in the tree know

more about me, than I do myself.

They sing to me in song

I sing to them back.

I hear their dances, cripples, and acts

the birds in the tree are all about me

as I am about them.

They listen when I talk, and pay attention when I don’t.

The birds in the tree are just like me

the strut in our walk

our hide in the trees.

Can’t get too close or we will

fly in the breeze.

When I was at my old school my bus stop was at the entrance of my neighborhood and this irritated me the most. It was ether too hot or too cold and even imagine having to walk on crutches. Let’s just say this was not the highlight of my day. However, there is a patch of woods right before you turn into my house. As I walked below the trees I would look above me and see the sunlight shining through the cracks, and also I would hear the birds in the tree singing.

A little background about me; I have always felt a connection towards birds and I have no idea why. Maybe because they are beautiful and so unique just like me 😛 . Nah i’m just playing but honestly no matter how odd this may sound, I have always felt like the birds and I were communicating in some way. I feel like that when i’m around all types of nature. The sounds the insects and animals make it’s as almost of their telling their own personal story. Just like me when I write, I always want to feel like I’m telling a story no matter if there been from my experiences or simple from my mind.

I wrote this poem on a  day when I was feeling really inspired by the birds that surrounds my house. I wanted to observe the birds like they were a person themselves; so I had to put myself in their shoes or shall I say talons 😀 . Unexpectedly, by putting myself in their position I found a lot of similarities between me and birds or the connection I feel with birds. It’s been almost five months since I wrote “The Birds in the Tree” and I still feel the same way.

Suite: 

 

I

 

Wake up. Instantly regret it.

Look at your roommate.

Ask yourself why you couldn’t be more like 

Her. 

 

Drag yourself out of bed. 

Feel the freezing tile underneath

Your toasty tootsies. 

Regret waking up again.

 

Quietly get your clothes together.

Go to the bathroom. Get dressed. 

Get out. Brush your jumble of 

Green and yellow curls.

 

II

 

Go downstairs. Eat breakfast.

Give up on that when everyone

Leaves and you no longer have

Anything to keep you from the

 

Monsters in your mind. 

“Stop eating. They’re watching

Every move you make. They’re 

Judging you. Stop being 

 

Disgusting. Stop being fat.

Stop being filthy. Stop, Stop,

Stop.” On the short ride up the

Elevator to your room, you hear

 

Singing. “Why aren’t you talented?”

Torment. But don’t show a single soul.

How dare you feel anything but

Shame.

 

III

 

The bell rings. Oh well.

Listen to music.

Sleep. Do anything but

Look at your reflection. 

 

Don’t look at your reflection.

Stop. You look gross. You

Look like a pig. Peppaaaaa-

Oh. Maybe you don’t.

 

No you definitely do.

Over analyze every line

And “beauty mark”.

Scoff at their idiotic name.

 

How inconsiderate.

Some of us aren’t beautiful. 

Refer to yourself when you

Say “some of us”. Check the

 

Time. 9:34. Okay.

Look again. 9:46.

Oh, okay. Rush to

Class.

 

IV

 

10 o’clock.

Blog for 15 minutes,

Even though the board says

To blog for 12. You rebel.

 

Listen to Mrs. Sibley. 

Talk about how she

Has a secretly ghetto 

Side that she refuses to

 

Show you. Laugh at yourself.

Listen to her talk some more.

Laugh when you’re supposed

To. Nod when you need to. 

 

Pay attention. Heed her words

As best as you can at 11 in the

Morning. The bell rings again.

Gather your things slowly. 

 

V

 

Don’t rush to eat. Dread it.

Don’t look forward to it. Abhor it. 

It is your enemy. Don’t

Indulge your enemy.

 

Get through the line.

Hear Cuz yell “Smile,

Smile, Smile!” as you

Leave. Smile. 

 

Look for your friends.

See them having a good time.

Look for a spot. The table’s full.

Sit by yourself because everyone

 

Else is together. Their tables

Are full. Sit by yourself.

Feel sad. Get over it.

Don’t be a mess.

 

11:40. Malone’s Class. 

Get up. Go  to her class. 

Sit in your spot, nestled 

Between a redhead

 

And a dreadhead. Enjoy 

Their company. Find solace

In the work you so desperately

Need to complete. Try to

 

Complete it. Run out of time.

Vow you’ll finish that night. 

Grab your bags. Get out.

Try not to look at anyone

 

In the eyes.

 

VI

 

These last 2 blocks go by quickly.

After Malone’s class, go to Sibley.

Journal for 10 minutes. Work on

Whatever she has you work on for that day.

The bell rings.

 

Take your time getting to go again.

Talk to the redhead. Listen to her

Stories about what happened while

She was that the computer. Walk

 

Out. Go to your next class. 

Try not to fall asleep. Doze off a little.

Wake up before you fall. Think about Her.

Smile. Look down at your hands. 

 

The bell rings. That’s it. It’s over.

Time to go back to being bored out

Of your mind. Eat dinner. Go to your

Room.

I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to post something this personal. I find it hard to reveal stuff about myself to other people, but I’ve been trying new things.

I wrote this with every piece of my heart. Enjoy 🙂

 

Dear Brianna,

What you’re feeling is okay. I know sometimes it won’t feel okay, but it is. It is okay to not be okay and it is okay to be just okay. You don’t always have to be good. You don’t always have to smile when you’re hurting. It is okay to show pain, to show vulnerability. It is okay to ask for help, even if you feel like you’re bothering someone. It is okay to open up and stop keeping everything so bottled up. Say what you feel. If something has upset you, don’t pretend that it didn’t. You are worthy of happiness.

It is okay to be scared. Everyone is. Everything is changing. Your friends are changing. Your family is changing. You’re changing. Let the people around you help when they offer. It’s okay to be scared of asking for what you want, but closed mouths don’t get fed. Remember the worst that can happen is they say no. The world won’t end. The sun will rise, and we will try again.

Remember that you are young. You don’t need to be so serious all the time. It is okay to be silly and wild. That’s what teenagers do. Have fun. Scratch that; have a BLAST. Make drastic decisions, regret them, rinse, repeat. This is the time to experiment with new things. This is the youngest you’ll ever be. Live it up!

It is okay to love deeply. It is okay to give your all to someone you love. It is okay to trust others, even if you get hurt. These years are trial and error. Nothing is right. It is okay to let go. You don’t have to  hold grudges because someone has hurt you in the past. It is okay to forgive someone who hasn’t apologized.

It is okay to make new friends even though your friends back home forbid it. You don’t have to be miserable for the sake of someone else’s feelings. They will make new friends just like you will. Nothing is permanent. Most people that come in your life will be a lesson but there will be a few blessings. You will find your blessing.

It is okay to be confused about everything. Nobody blames you. Nobody is judging you. They’re confused, too. Everyone is confused. Nobody has everything planned out. And even if they do, their plans will change. So will yours. Change your mind. Change it again. You have nothing but time. Make mistakes. Make them again, because who ever really learns the first time? You will make mistake after mistake after mistake but you’ll get it right. Don’t hold your downfalls against yourself.

It is okay to want to stay in your room forever and ever. But don’t. Go out. Explore. Explore some more. Meet new people. Smile at strangers. Compliment things you like. I’m sure that cashier wasn’t weirded out when you told her how beautiful her lipstick looked against her skin. You have always found beauty in everything you see. Continue to do that. Tell your friends you love them. You don’t have to talk everyday to know that they love you, and that you love them. You are young adults now. You can put yourself first for the first time in your life.

It is okay to miss people who are no longer apart of your life.  Remember that what is meant to be will be. Not everything will play out the way you want but it will play out the way you need. Remember that even if everybody leaves, you have you. You will always have you. Learn to go out and have fun but also learn to enjoy your own company. Talk to yourself if you need to. Encourage yourself. Love yourself.

It is okay to want to sacrifice your happiness for someone else’s. But don’t. Your happiness is just as important as the next persons. And most of all, it is okay to be you. You are interesting. You are worthy of everything you want in life. 

Forever and always,

Brianna

Everyone, I’m sure, feels at some point they are incapable of being loved. Not the unconditional love your parents, siblings, grandparents, and other family feel for you, but the love it seems you have to work to earn. I’ve felt this way for years, however, it wasn’t until someone else that I care about told me they felt the same way that I realized It wasn’t my fault. It’s not anything I did or said, and it’s not anything about me that makes people treat me the indifferent way they do. It’s not that you can’t be loved, it’s that people our age are too immature and self-centered that they don’t “waste” their time on other people to love. It’s the kind of love you have to work for to earn that is nearly impossible to feel because desperately, you work to earn it, but the other person doesn’t work to give it.

You can’t go through this life hopelessly looking for people to love you so you can find love for yourself. All you will find is disappointment, and the reinforced lie that you aren’t lovable will seem to have more truth. we base what we believe on experience and perspective. If you base your worth on the way people act and what they say, you will never find love for yourself. Even if what they say is kind and complementary, you can’t rely on it to boost your confidence. You have to allow yourself to love yourself and find that part of you, and not expect those around you to do it for you. In the end, all you have is yourself and the feelings you create.

I’m not writing this to talk about how people are the worst (which they often are), but I’m writing this to give you the advice to love yourself. People will respect you and love you so much more if you respect and love yourself. It’s hard, but it’s not impossible.

 

 

At the end of every month this year, I will briefly summarize the preceding days. You may read this one in September because blogs are posted every Wednesday, but, after all, August has not yet come to a close. Anyway, I hope this series will serve as a time capsule of sorts and that I can read them in the future. And perhaps, if you are curious about MSA, you can have a glimpse of the school through my perspective. I also plan on describing my auditioning process as well as other interesting topics revolving around MSA (I know that Hannah already covered her auditioning journey, but I feel that multiple perspectives never pose a problem). In short, I hope this brief series captures your interest in some way.

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August, I can only say wow.

So much has happened during this month. For starters, I switched schools and became a student at MSA, which kind of set off a chain reaction. In about four weeks, I have learned a lot, and I feel that I have even grown as a person. Four weeks!

Anyway, I have experienced what living in a dorm with a roommate entails. If you fear this, I promise that it is not as bad as it seems. And I love our room despite its quirks; I love the drawers and my large desk and the view from the window, and I love having a room that seems like my room. Surprisingly, it is a home away from home.

I also love the campus. Trees dot the entirety of it, and there are even three ginkgo trees. My break consists of me sitting on a bench beneath a tree while eating an orange or a Reese’s, which I look forward to for some reason. But, yes, the campus grows on you. Sometimes you just want to sit in the grass and write poetry about tacos, and this place has a lot of grass.

But, spoiler alert, you will miss your cat. You will miss them terribly, and you will look at old photos with your heart torn in half. Hug them while you still can.

I love the library. I just love it.

Also, I have learned a lot. Sometimes I do not feel any progression, but I have, in fact, progressed. I am back to my history rants, and I am actually writing! That sounds ridiculous, but I never imagined that I would write a poem about biscuits or a short story based in eighteenth century London. In the past, I only had time for poetry or prose or an aimless story. But now I am challenged to explore what writing is actually about, and I have grown from the tattered notebooks I used to fill with a hapless dribble of thought. Before I came here, I feared that I would despise writing, but I have surprised myself by enjoying it even more.

All in all, if you have your heart set on MSA, I would recommend preparing yourself. Be ready to exercise responsibility, and be ready to take on a hefty load of work. But if you persevere, you will enjoy yourself here. You will laugh a lot and talk to interesting people and watch yourself grow along with your art. I recommend applying because MSA will definitely surprise you.