Journal

It’s Super Tuesday! Are you ready to vote?

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Super Tuesday is finally here! The day I get to vote for the first time. I am super, super, super excited. I think I am ready to vote. I woke up this morning and confirmed my polling station in my town. Turns out it is a walk from my house.I also checked out the ballot to see who the options are. Oh! I am actually off work as well so I have no pressure on me. I can take my time voting and enjoying the moment. takes a deep breathe

Let me tell you why I am so excited to vote. I grew in Nigeria, in the days of Abacha. I grew in a military dictatorship. Even though Nigeria was not voting, my mother always talked about elections and voting. I remember the day Sani Abacha died. I remember when Abdul-Salami Abubakar gave that first speech on NTA. We were still in FESTAC. My mother was literally jumping and screaming at the TV in excitement.

I don’t take the right to vote for granted. I have been a US resident for about 13 years. I have lived through the George Bush re-election. I was in California during the recall year when Arnold Schwarzenegger was elected. I was here through the beginning of Obama game-changing ascension from the unknown to the Presidency. I remember so wanting to vote in that election. I was unable because I was only a resident. Now I am a citizen.

Being an American citizen has been one of the most unexpected stories of my life. It has also been one of the most defining status of my adulthood. Being American gave me the freedom to discover who I wanted to be and believe I could be that person.

I am excited to do my duty as a citizen. I am excited to make a choice. It is not an easy choice. No matter how certain I am about the candidate I am voting for, I have come to realize that as a voter I have to be prepare for heartache. I am keeping my eyes on the bigger picture. Do my bit and hope that other do theirs as well.

It is funny that when I first started thinking of voting, I never imagined I would even be interested in the primaries. Since I have immersed myself in this election cycle, I have come to realize that voting counts at every stage. As such Super Tuesday would be my first vote. Seems like less of a bit deal since it isn’t the big November election but I know this is important.

*If you live in the state of Massachusetts and you are not sure if you are registered to vote, check out your status here. It will give your voter status. You can also see your polling station as well as a sample of the ballot.

 

Restorative Silence

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There is something powerful in hearing nothing

silence

The first time I took a yoga class was really early in the morning. I remember dragging myself to the little room in the gym and going through all of these movement. Then, at the end, I remember Savasana, or corpse pose, feeling like all the stress I had accumulated was drained out of my body. In that moment, I felt so relieved. I felt like I had slept for hours instead of the minutes of calmness. Silence, it appears, could restore my equilibrium. That was weird to me because I have always been afraid of silence. I tend to fill up spaces with sounds. I even talk out loud to myself if I feel like a space is too silent.

In the past  few week though I have been craving silence. It started with my morning walk to the train station. I tend to leave my house early in the still morning to walk to train station. At that time, there are not a lot of cars or people moving around. It is usually really quiet. I normally would have my earphones on and listen to music really loud. Recently though I have been walking in silence. At first, it was because I felt like I needed that time to think about how I wanted my day to go. To visual the many steps and goals for the day.

This meditative walk turned into taking the train to work without playing music. The train has a rhythm of its own I have discovered. It is the way the train rolls on the rail and takes the curves in the way. It is in the beep on public announcement system. It is the voice of the conductor announcing the upcoming stations. It is all just one sound outside my head. Soon, without music, that rhythm disappears and becomes silence. I find myself getting lost in my own thoughts instead of the beats pumping into my head. On my day off, I usually spend a considerable amount of time in the kitchen playing music. In the past weeks, I have spent time in the kitchen, without music, just listening to the wind and the city moving about me.

Being in silence has had a centering effect on me. I feel like I am calmer because of it. I am not so hyped up. The one big thing it has done is allow me be able to hear better. I used to listen to my music so loud. A few days ago, I put my earphones on and I had to reduce the music to really low because I was not used to anything that loud. My phone calls have also gotten better because I am calm and able to hear better.

I am starting to think of this silent period as a sort of Savasana. I am after all the person who has always enjoyed Savasana, the last silent moment of yoga practice. There is something powerful about the restorative calm of hearing nothing and being turned inward.

*If you feel like you could use some calm, try practicing Savasana. The Yoga journal has a whole article on getting into Savasana  and its benefits here.

Not Just A Woman

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I don't have the luxury of being just a woman

LuxuryI went to see Kung Panda 3 this weekend. It is not like I go to see movies regularly. The whole movie thing was an accident of an ill-timed desire to bowl and being met with a 3 hour waiting time. Instead of going back home, my friend and I decided to go watch a movie. It just happened that the next starting movie was Kung Fu Panda 3.

The big theme of this movie was identity. It was simple enough for kids and complex enough for adults who chose to pay attention. What do you do when your identity is not as simple as white bread? What is Po to do as the adopted son of a goose and the biological son of a Panda? Where does he draw his strength? What makes him him?

These are complicated questions for an animated movie. These questions though are the ones I have to wrestle with as a voter. Who am I? What are my priorities? What will tip  my vote?

My identity is layered in both the physical and the psychological. I am woman. Born and raised as a Muslim in  Nigeria. Moved to America at 16. Became an American in 2009. Highly educated but struggling to achieve a solidly middle class status. Struggling to figure out the student loan game. Gaining a consciousness of my own blackness in American society. Worried about the lives of my future children in a society that does not value black lives.

All of these things and more influence the way I see the world. The layers of identity and world view color the ideal world I see. This ideal world inevitably colors the way I see myself casting my vote.

Any suggestions that my vote should be as simple as being a woman or being black or being Muslim is a shortcut to diminishing my experience as human being. One of the struggles I initially had before deciding of Bernie Sanders was the idea of the first female president. Am I traitor to womanhood if I choose a man over Hilary Clinton? Is this another case of betrayal of sisterhood and feminism of I feel that a man better represents my ideals that Hilary?

When Madeline Albright and Gloria Steinem start “scolding” young women for not voting for Hilary Clinton because she is a woman, they do so from the position of white feminism. The much stated quote about going to hell for not supporting other women is one that is based on the assumption that other women are accepting of all women. No if, but or maybe. That assumption is a privilege. White Feminist have the privilege of being able to see challenges to their life from the position of their gender. The glass ceiling for them is one layer thick. As long as they can overcome the barrier of having a vagina instead of penis, then they are good to go.

The fact is I don’t have the luxury of being just a woman. The inability to understand that gender is not the only barrier that young women are dealing is perhaps why feminism and Hilary Clinton’s campaign don’t appeal to a lot of young women. I’m not saying that I don’t connect to any part of Hilary Clinton’s platform. I’m saying I connect more to Bernie Sanders’ platform. I have too many questions and concerns about the future of the country under Hilary’s leadership.

 And just in case there is a temptation to drag out Barack Obama’s implicit or explicit endorsement to boost Hilary’s campaign, I shall still be voting for Bernie.

January Loves

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There is nothing like empowering people to do something new

There is nothing like empowering people to do something new

I can’t believe January is over! I mean wasn’t it yesterday we made promises to each other and to ourselves. To live better lives this year. To do more. To be more. To be present. Now January is here and gone. The newness of 2016 is slightly faded; there is a luster but it is not so bright.

Despite the departure of January, I am still excited for the year ahead. In January, I enjoyed myself a lot. Sure there were moments of anxiety and deep thoughts. But there were also moments of levity. Read more

What is Success?

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Success.jpgI am having a tough weekend. I am having one of those moments when I look at my life and all I see are my shortcomings. I know I am not being rational. That said the despair I feel is real because I feel like I am not where I want to be at this point in my life. No, I don’t feel like I am at rock bottom. At the same time, I don’t feel like I am on a successful path. There is so much more that I want out of my life.

Sometimes the things I desire out of life lead to competing interests. On one hand I feel like in order for me to progress professionally I should be open to moving out of the Greater Boston area. On the flip side, I have moved so much in the last thirteen years that the thought of packing my bags moving has me crying on the phone with my friend.

I don’t have much in Boston. I have a job. I have a few friends. Some clothes, some pots and pans and my growing sense of stability. For some looking at my life, that is not enough to stake a lifetime on. For me though, the bit I have now seems like more than I have had in a long time. The sense that I have people to call, places I know and some hope of a career seems like more than a enough to build a future upon.

While I was crying to my friend on the phone, he asked me, “What is success to you? You have to figure out your narrative and make decisions that are right for you.” I am not sure what my vision of success is. Okay…maybe I am telling lies. For me success is not just having a good job, it is having a social bearing as well. On the whole, I don’t have any of those things at the moment. And that scares me badly. As happy and as inspired as I am to turn 30, it scares me as well.

It is scary because I see so much more that I need to be doing. As much as I am inspired to live with vigor, 8 months is not enough to build a life like the one I want. But like everyone keeps telling me when I get worked up and too emotional about the whole thing, I need to calm down and take it a step at a time.

 

 

This is not my vote

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I have a very frustrating day trying to be politically active. Mondays tend to be a long day for me anyway. I start my day at 4.45am. Get off work. Go to the gym. Work out. Then change quickly and run/walk to train station. Pray train is on time. Get on train. Get to campaign office. The transition between end of work and campaign office is 90minutes. I have been about 10 minutes late once or twice. Then, I pray that we actually know what we are doing. This has been my Monday for the past 4 weeks or so.

I am not complaining. I am ranting. Is there a difference. I don’t know. I just know that I am home on the verge of tears and I can only write about how I feel now. I am tired. I am hungry and I am heartbroken. Okay, maybe I am a tad bit dramatic.

Monday has become a dramatic day. From crying spells on the phone with my friend because I am too exhausted to find my way home to feeling abused and ill-used. The day really started to go down the drain when I arrived at the office and realized we were understaffed. The regular coordinator was no where to be seen. Campaign staff were closed off in their office. I am sure they were doing important work.

And I sat there unsure of what to do. I actually arrived on time today so that made it doubly disappointing to sit there unoccupied while everyone sang a chorus of I don’t know. Oh well, its a small campaign office. Things are what they are.

Okay, let’s get on the system and start dialing. I seem to get a series of bad calls. From the yelling on the phone to the “I am having dinner!” Please don’t be picking up your phone while you are having dinner. If your time with your family is truly sacred, you would disconnect from your phone and focus on the meal.  My calling is not the problem. Your answering the phone is the problem.

Then there was the “Oh, I don’t understand you!” crew. The man who exclaimed, “are you speaking Spanish?” That just further annoyed me. But my day was truly done when this old woman decided to tell me to “speak softly” What the fuck does that mean? “Speak softly” That phrase/statement rubbed my soul the wrong way.

This is not the “OMG! I am volunteering, you should not talk to me that way.” This is the “I am a young black woman trying to use my voice and be politically active” rage. This is the “I feel diminished because no one else got told to speak softly!” This is the “I feel embarrassed I got told to speak softly.” This is the “are you telling me that I am too much” rage. This the “I feel embarrassed to be told that I am loud or too harsh” rage. This is the ” you just took a happy place and turned it into a place of anxiety” moment. This is the part where I don’t want to return. Can I quit? Does it look bad on me if I quit now because I can’t handle this.

Maybe I am over-reacting.  My first instinct is to quit. Walk away. Who cares? But my sister said to me at the beginning of my shift, “Do Your Part.” I will do my part even though I know I will probably be anxious for my next shift.

 

 

 

The Joys of Doing Nothing

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relax, take a deep breathe and just be

relax, take a deep breathe and just be

I am a big Marie Forleo fan. I discovered her when I was living in Ibadan, Nigeria and I was wondering what the next step in my life should be. I have kept up with watching her videos every now and then. For some reason, I saw her Facebook post on her interview with David Bach and it stuck with me. I was really interested in watching the interview because of financial curiosity. This interview was really enlightening about finances but the biggest take away for me was at the end. The final segment of the interview covers Mr. Bach’s sabbatical from his job for 18 months. This got me thinking about my own life. Read more

To Resurrect

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becoming blackMy sister pestered me all of the first week in January for a word of the year. I love my sister. My sister and I talk about feelings and everything else. And picking a word of the year fell under that umbrella that most people don’t touch because they are being cool. But my sister and I, we talked it over and we picked a word for me. The word is ‘Resurrect’.

To Resurrect. To bring back to life. To add new vigor. I feel like I need new vigor in my life. I have missed myself. I have missed my bravery. I have missed not thinking of failure as an option. I have missed not being black, being Muslim and being a woman.

I did not become black until I moved to Boston. I become a Muslim every time I come the US. Being a woman I learned about in my teenage years getting propositioned by men driving in luxury cars in Festac.  The intersection of all three finally arrived in this past year with an awakening that jolted me and stole away my confidence.

I remember talking to my father about how much I was trying to be more but I felt I could not be more because of these obstacles in front of me. I never saw those obstacles before. Most people who know  me can attest to the fact that I am a tad bit naive and a lot sheltered. Some of it comes from my upbringing and some of it is the choice I make not to overexpose myself.

Let me tell you that becoming black and truly beginning to understand what it means to be the ‘other’ knocked the wind out of me. It seems crazy that I say becoming black. After all, I was born with my skin. But I was raised in a community that looks like me. Class has always been more of a divisive issue than race. For me, I was never the ‘other’. I was the privileged.

To suddenly lose my privilege and find myself struggling to be seen the way I have always been seen has been a battle. I felt like the battle took my luster. I went from feeling golden to feeling inadequate. I developed social anxieties because suddenly it was hard to get anyone to have a normal intelligent conversation with me. No one ever explicitly tells you to your face that they feel you are inferior but they are many ways of speaking that don’t involve the mouth.

The hard part of being put down repeatedly was that I felt I was crazy. Certainly, I am getting the cues wrong. Maybe I don’t understand what is being said. Maybe I am overthinking things. Maybe it is me.

Maybe it is not me. And suddenly understanding that the battle is not just mine has made me begin to regain some of my luster. This is why I chose ‘resurrect’ as my word of the year. This year I want to be who I always thought I was; an intelligent young woman who would run the world. I have had enough of being timid and scared.

 

 

Too Many Dreams

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Does anyone ever have the problem of having too many dreams? Please, only real humans should respond to this. I am not looking for the super-humans who have 12 careers going concurrently without a hair our of place. Now that I have cleared that up, let’s get back to the issue at hand.

Lately, I have been thinking that I want to do more with my life. I signed up for classes that I think would benefit my career in the long run. I started working out. I am trying to eat healthier. I am also trying to get back into some of the things that I let slide like my writing, my food blogging, etc. But the thing is that I feel overwhelmed.

Yes, I know it probably because I am trying to make so many changes in so little time. I get that. There are some things that I am doing that actually make me feel better about my life.  My burgeoning exercise routine has me feeling positive generally about life so I am glad I am making that change.

However, even positive changes take up time and commitment. I feel like I don’t have enough time in the day to do what I need/want to do. Today, I was supposed to finish some coursework on my classes but I remembered that I had some writing to attend to. Plus I wanted some relaxation time. By the time I was done, I have no time left for the class. And I feel like this ‘oops, I got something else’ is going to spiral out of control. Then I will be back to my chronic lack of follow through.

Alright, I getting the sense that I need to breathe before I become too overwhelmed. Does anyone have any suggestions for having too many dreams, too little time?

The Logical Point to Quit

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I decided that I wanted more for my life so I decided to do something about it. Learn something new. Pick up some new skills, stretch myself in ways that I am afraid to. I signed up for classes on Coursera. I actually reached into my pocket, paid the class fees and started learning. 4 hours of learning later or so, I feel like I have reached the most logical point to give up. Fuck all my aspirations, hopes and dreams. Forget about my life time. In this moment when I feel uncomfortable, I have reached the logical point to give up. I could spend my whole life complaining about why I don’t feel satisfied instead of pushing myself to do something new.

I told my sister I was starting classes online. She told me she was afraid for me. I have  been diagnosed with chronical lack of follow through. I have no willpower. I hate being uncomfortable. I would rather do the same thing over and over again then be uncomfortable. Haven’t you heard? I ate the same plate of food from a restaurant for a week because I was afraid that I might hate everything else. Why ruin a mediocre life with adventures when I could be just okay? Just okay paying my bills, just okay intellectual simulation, just okay lifestyle. I could tell my mother every phone call that I am grateful for the just okay life. Alihamdulilahi for the just okay.

I think it is probably a sin to confuse complacency with gratitude. A very thin line it is but there comes a point when saying “I am grateful for what I have” becomes a sin because you are refusing to push yourself just further. I think I have reached the logical point to quit just okay. I am done. I am going to put on my big girl pants and get to work.

This is one of the hardest things I will probably do. This is probably the most rewarding thing I will probably do. I feel like at 29, I am ready to let go of my inhibitions and become more than just okay. I want to see in myself what my mother, father, sister, mentors and friends see in me. I want to be more than just okay.