I love writing, I hate typing. There’s something about a new composition notebook and a black Bic pen (never PaperMate) that excites me. Documenting my life through journaling is something I have done since I learned how to write. Learning to let go of stuff has made it easy for me to get rid of things I have purchased because I know I can buy it all again. I can’t part with my personal items though. I still have every single journal since my first from the second grade (stashed in my besties basement…hey Felicia). Even when I don’t journal I write down everything in a planner…which I also keep.
But, I digress. Writing. A special gift passed down to me by my mother. My mom. The writer. I was so into reading as a child and knowing that my mom created stories and wrote them always fascinated me. When people would ask what my mom did I would respond, “She’s a write.” It didn’t matter what job she was working, to me she was amazing. When I think about my early childhood and my mom, I think about reefs of paper, watching her perform, and seeing newspaper and article clippings on her cork board with her name under the title.
When I write, it’s for my eyes only so when she told me I should blog my experience my first thought was, “I’m good.” Why would I want to share my personal experience with people? My friend told me I should document it through picture and video, also something I don’t like to do. Whenever I travel I hate taking pictures. It makes me feel like I’m taking the pictures to remind me of this place that I will never visit again. Pictures make me feel like it’s final.
When I went to sleep yesterday after telling my mom about my plan I had a really vivid dream. I tend to have those types of dreams when I wake up I’m looking around to make sure I’m actually in my bed. Hell, I’ve called people because of my dreams just to double check if it was real or not. This dream had me on the stage of Ellen sitting with my mom and daughter. Ellen was asking me about my adventure, what inspired me, how can parents find time to travel with their children and stay within budget and I was there just cheesing away. Minus the rest of the details of the dream, when I woke up I thought to myself, even though I am taking this journey for me it may help inspire someone else. and it reminded me of a paper I wrote in graduate school. I had to design a non-profit that could be implemented in the schools and the community. My plan at that time was to develop a program similar to one I read about started by Maalack Rock in which inner-city youth had the opportunity to volunteer abroad. I also though teacher’s (with contrasting demographics) should have to spend a Saturday with the families that they taught to better understand the socioeconomic differences and get a better idea of demographic they were serving.
Too often I have worked with youth who never left the comforts, and sometimes the confines, of their neighborhood. They’ve never even been to neighboring cities. Seeing new parts of the world and experiencing new cultures is definitely something I would recommend, so maybe if I blog about my experience someone will say, “I’ve always wanted to go to ___________,” or “I’ve always wanted to do _____________.” And they won’t let anything stop them or hold them back. So I am going to blog about this journey.
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