What is my major?
I hate that question. I’m an undeclared sophomore finally piecing together the hopes of my uncommitted heart. It is such a scary thing to reach out into an unknown world with my diminutive hands and politely request a future. There is so much paperwork and so much guessing involved. I have no idea if I am a success story or a flop. I don’t know if I’ll make enough dough to feed a future generation of small-handed ditherers, or if I’ll ever want there to be a future generation of small-handed ditherers. I certainly don’t know if I’ll have the power to change something: to help and inspire. I’d like to believe that my efforts and creations translate into small moments of artistry and beauty, smiles that stick and memories that echo, but my feet aren’t even wet yet! At best I’ve dampened a singular toe.
In other words, I’m a student. I’m an unknown quantity with nothing to show for myself yet. My plans for the coming years are so fragile and idealistic, that just the idea of unfolding them and passing them around the room at a family reunion or a New Year’s Day party is terrifying and stressful. I dream about taking a to-go box to adult social gatherings, so that I can run away with all the food and not answer a single question. I pretend that I’m playing a game that involves sharing as little information as possible, when really it’s a defensive strategy against comments about seasonal employment, the rich doctors I should be marrying, the economic downturn, grad school, and polite nods (OOouch my dreams.)
But seriously, I am so lucky. True, the majority of the people prying into my prospects are also attempting to categorize me, placing social gambles on my relative success or ineptitude, but there are also a lot of people who believe in me and want to see me succeed. There are so many lovely family friends who want to give me life advice and make sure I’m talking to the right people, and though most of it’s unrelated tidbits by dads who want me to think they know everything, I can’t imagine how much harder it would be if everyone was sure I’d fail. No matter how skeptical or chauvinistic the adults in my life can be, they all seem to think I’ll be fine. I get a lot of pats on the back and “keep me updated”s, and it helps to know that even when my classes make me feel like the stupidest person alive, to my church and biological family, I pass for my parents’ child. There is hope for me yet.
It is so incredibly painful when someone makes you feel small and insignificant. It doesn’t matter who they are, or what it is they said, but when someone convinces a piece of you that you don’t matter, your entire body gives up, and you shut down until someone more significant reminds you that you ARE worth something. I am lucky enough to have a mini army of people who care about me and think highly of me, but even the people who don’t care much for me usually have a modicum of respect for my parents or my school. When I’m fearfully honest with myself, I realize they probably just see my skin tone and the neighborhood I’m from and assume I’m privileged enough to get out of whatever hole I stumble into. They’re right about one thing: I am privileged. I have resources and options, and people assume success of me. If I didn’t have that quiet support, I can’t say I wouldn’t give up. The world is a really scary place, and sometimes I just don’t think I’m enough.
What is my major?
It’s not something I like answering, and I’m honestly not likely to tell you, but I’m glad someone’s asking. I’m glad that people assume I’ll be handed what I ask for, as crazy as it seems to me.
If you’re not as lucky, if the community of people around you, for whatever reason, doesn’t think you’ll make it, please prove them wrong. I know it’s a tall order. Success is not always defined by talent or effort, but give it a hell of a run for its money, because those bastards haven’t met you yet. No one has. You are still in process. You are a unique individual only just coming into fruition, and you deserve every chance to blow the world’s socks off!
So take it. I know it’s really hard to believe that you can affect change. I argue with myself about it all the time, but you are capable of a lot more than you know yet, and you are definitely more than the people around you know. They’ve placed you in a category, but humans weren’t meant to fit in boxes, so break down the walls. Take what’s yours.
In Kanye’s Ultralight Beam from The Life of Pablo, Chance’s repeated line is,
“This is my part, nobody else speak.”
This is your life. Listen to no one else and chase a dream.
“Father, this prayer is for everyone that feels they're not good enough
This prayer's for everybody that feels like they're too messed up
For everyone that feels they've said "I'm sorry" too many times
You can never go too far when you can't come back home again
– Kanye West, Feat. Kirk Franklin and Choir, Ultralight Beam
