So I was really struck today by Edward Said’s call for “willed homelessness.” When we went around the circle others seemed to echo Said’s idea, agreeing that there can be complacency in security. However, I can’t help but rebel against this idea of “willed homelessness.” It feels paradoxical. There is nothing desirable or chosen about being homeless. There is nothing romantic about sleeping on park benches, or buses, or trains, or floors, or random couches. There is nothing exciting about sneaking in friends houses long past parents go to bed so you can find something to eat. There is nothing fun about brushing your teeth in library bathrooms, showering in locker rooms, hiding a duffel bag in the bushes before you go to school. This isn’t learning through being unsettled this is surviving in a world that is actively telling you that you don’t belong here. Sure, I believe in travel, adventure, and exploration, as methods to grow but to call that homelessness is to demonstrate the extraordinary privilege of never knowing what it’s like to not have someone to call along the journey, a porch light on somewhere waiting for you to return. 

I plan to narrow my lens of existentialism to just that ideology the Kierkegarrd presents about the fullness of a moment and how it immulinates Kiesha's need for a dramatic event. I will examine this by only looking at a few moments in Kiesha's life that this is present and examining them more deeply.

Struggle: I got stuck in a cave for a little while because I went too far into it and then I couldn't see anything at all and couldn't figure out how to get out because there was no light. Eventually I got out by just randomly moving my cursor, and pressing w and the space bar.

Accomplishment: I accidentally jumped off of a pretty high cliff which placed me at the bottom of the mountain. This was a problem becasue my crafting table and chest were at the top of the mountain. I explored around a little bit but I couldn't see an easy way to get back up to the top because it was more of a cliff than a hill with different levels to jump up onto. So, I realized that I could break the blocks to form a stair type of thing on the side of the mountain so I could reach the top. And I did! And I found my supplies again!

Observation: It started raining while I was playing today! I am not exactly sure what happens when you get wet, but I am assuming that it is probably better to be dry than to be wet so I went into a cave that I knew was nearby for shelter and waited there until the rain passed.

Question: My next step is to figure out how to build a house. So, my question is... how do you build a house?

Today's discussion about home brought up a lot of thoughts and feelings for me that I had not before believed were part of me. The question about our desire for sameness and what do we have to give up for it reminded me of my high school. Nobody talked about differences. Whenever I brought up my two moms there was always an uncomfortable silence. I always wanted to know more about my Indian friend's culture but she never wanted to talk about it. Everybody was considered the same. Yes we had our differences and our strengths and weakness, but I nothing that made a person different. I wanted to find out all of the interesting aspects of people who brought into the conversation all different views and histories. But we never heard their stories. Now at Bryn Mawr, I feel like these conversations are much more open and more people want to discuss our differences. Everybody is different and we need to recognize and celebrate these differences instead of forcing people into silence and not allowing them to open their mouths and say their beliefs and their histories.

I plan to keep my lens of existentialism and deepen it by finding more resources on Kierkegaard and using them to lengthen my paper.

Obviously, this post is late. The minute I walked into class today I realized I hadn't posted and my first thought was, "Oh no I screwed up and forgot!" I gave very little thought to it, other than concluding that I should definitely make a post later that night. However, I was really intrigued when Anne brought up the idea of queer time in relation to people not making posts on time this weekend. Was I living on queer time when I forgot to make a post? I had so much other stuff going on this past weekend, academically and with Lantern Night, so making a post on Serendip was not front and center in my mind. For any ambitious student at any other college, putting a cultish tradition above homework would probably seem irresponsible, but for me I hardly put any thought to it. Lantern Night and Step Sing were higher on my priority list for that day, and that was it. Is that an example of me living on queer time, ordering my priorities in a way that does not necessarily follow what would be normative outside of Bryn Mawr? Our discussion of queer time today also got me thinking about how ingrained normative time is not just in academic institutions, but in individuals (of course I can only speak from my perspective there). When Anne talked about running a class on queer time and simply saying that we'd have to have four papers written by some far off date, Caroline mentioned how she would put herself on a schedule and set her own deadlines.

After our class discussion, I reflected quite a bit about what people said.  I can totally empathize/sympathize with feeling uncomfortable to speak, fear of misinterpretation, wanting approval and acceptance of your ideas from your peers (I feel like that all the time).  I definitely think that our learning environment should be a safe space that allows for growth, but how can we grow if we DO NOT speak?

I guess from our conversation I felt that the responsibility to fix this problem was very one-sided.  Of course the people who talk alot should create space for others to speak freely, but the people who don't talk have to work on speaking up more too.  I don't think it's fair to expect others to self-censor or limit their voice for the benefit of others.  

I guess for me it is more personal, because as a Black-American woman my voice is limited and censored in society by way of stereotypes and fixed roles.  For many people of color on campus there is a constant (at times sporadic) internal battle of self-censorship for one's own personal well-being, or if something is offensive saying something for the great good of the space by providing another perspective.  For myself, trying to figure out if the space is literally SAFE enough for one to speak, am I going to be marginalized as the angry black women or too sensitive/aggressive if I give the "Race" perspective, etc?   

This link came up on my facebook feed just now and I had to share. Not only because I love these two-minute faith-in-humanity videos, but because it reminded me of the section on staring we did in class earlier this semester. Staring and body language are the two silent ways we express ourselves. This video reflects how in the time span of ten minutes the body language of two complete strangers can go from awkward to reflecting and expressing true intimacy. It illustrates that even the briefest of moments can ignite a deeper emotional response. Now, I'm sure the same can happen in a negative light. The briefest of moments can ignite a negative response, which I believe connects to our conversation on disabilities and society's definition of "normal." Even the quickest down-grading glance is an unspoken insult. The one who gives the stare or the harsh body language is only re-enforcing societal stigmas. We need to watch not only what comes directly out of our mouths, but also the words which we do not speak through our eyes, arms, and bodies. There's the childhood phrase "sticks and stones may hurt my bones, but words will never hurt me!" Well, in my experience I find the unspoken words of body language and the emptiness of silence to be more painful than any utterance.

That Leah and Keisha became best friends seems a result of some accidents: Keisha saved Leah from drowning in the pool, and later “a dramatic event” when they confronted Nathan Bogle together. Would they become good friends if these didn’t happen? I guess so. Caldwell is a small community. If not these two exact things, there’s still a great chance that something else dramatic might happen between them. Bought the same dresses and wore them to school on the same day. Or ran into each other on the street and one fell really bad and another accompanied her to the hospital. A lot of things that can possibly bond them as life-long best friends. On the other hand, they must’ve had this sort of interesting encounters with many other people as well. But they became best friends with each other, Leah and Keisha, so that’s not a coincidence, but a choice.

Their childhood friendship was “based on verb rather than nouns”. They liked each other because they spent plenty of time together and did fun things. That’s more like playmates. To me, true friends like each other not because they do fun things together, but because they appreciate each other, the person’s personalities and intelligence and passions. And even when they do boring things like waiting for a bus for an hour or studying all day, they don’t feel dull because each one is a delight to the other.