10 Things I Know to be True

Every spring, my Composition students write a graduation speech.  It’s a nice way for them to end the year – they get to think about their legacies, small though they might be, and this year, I get to think about mine. 

This is the last graduation speech I will ever assign or grade.  This is one of the last assignments I will ever assign or grade.  This is the last group of seniors I will take pictures with at prom, the last group I will laugh with, the last group I will send off into the world. 

Every spring, when they write the graduation speech, we start off by discussing truth.  What would they have wanted to know as freshmen?  What do we know to be true?  What kinds of lessons matter?

I ask them to make a list: 10 things I know to be true.  Every year, I sit with them and I write my own list. 

This year might be the last time I ever do this. 

I have no doubt that I will continue to find meaning in my life, that I will learn lessons that will affect how I make choices and the path I take.  I have no doubt that I will find new things to be true. 

It doesn’t change that right now, I know 10 things to be true, and they are 10 things I didn’t know last year.  Each year I grow and change and (hopefully) get better, and so, for 2016-2017, the last academic year of my life, here is my list:

1. Changing your life is worth it.

This is the truth I most identify with right now.  I am in the midst of changing my life; I have only a few days left in my life as a teacher, only a few days before I head off into a new world of computers and technology and travel.  So far, it has been worth it – my anxiety is lower.  I feel better.  I sleep better.  It’s easier to be optimistic than it used to be. 

I hope I still think this change was worth it next year.   

2. People are never upset when you tell them why they matter.

I always struggle with this one.  I used to be better at it – I used to take every opportunity in the form of notes, birthday cards, signing yearbooks, text messages, anything at all, to tell people I was glad they were part of my life. 

At some point in college, I got made fun of for it, and it fell off.  I regret it. 

But I’m learning to embrace being open again.  As I’ve told friends that I’m leaving, it’s become remarkably easy to tell them that I value our friendship and want to stay close.  It’s easier to tell colleagues that I admire their work ethic and dedication to this job.  It’s easier to thank my boss for being awesome. 

None of them has ever been upset to hear that they are important to me.

3. Working out is a mental health savior.

This is basic health wisdom, but it's something I often forget.  Working out drops off my schedule in favor of more sleep, taking a longer shower in the mornings, not wanting to wash my hair, feeling lazy -- any number of dumb excuses. 

But it helps.  On days when I don't want to get out of bed, when I'm trapped in my house because school is cancelled due to flooding, when everything feels so empty, working out somehow gives me the perspective I need to keep going, and feel better. 

I may never be the person who adores working out -- I just need to remember why I do it. 

4. Intellectual curiosity is more important that knowledge or education – keep learning!

I was scared to start the journey that led me to where I am now.  I bought the textbook I needed to study for the A+ in July, and while I opened it occasionally, I didn’t start seriously reading it until November.  It was overwhelming – 1500 pages of information I didn’t understand!

When I finally broke through that fear, when I finally realized I really needed to push myself and start learning again to change my life, it got easier.  The book got, I don’t want to say interesting, but tolerable.  The acronyms started making sense.  Bishop and I took apart computers so I’d see what was going on with motherboards, CPUs, and power supplies.  We bought me a new graphics card so I could learn how to make Mass Effect Andromeda better. 

Learning slowly became fun again, something I’d rather forgotten about in the midst of anxiety and a job I knew inside out. 

And as it got fun again, it continued to get easier.  One of the most frustrating side effects of anxiety for me has been how it affects my information processing skills – it was noticeably harder to learn.  I used to be a fabulous auditory learner.  In college I barely took notes because I memorized most lectures as the professors gave them.  I could read a textbook and remember it nearly word for word without much effort. 

But by October 2015, I’d lost that.  I still struggle to process information when I listen; it remains easier for me to learn if I’m reading something.  Thankfully, I’ve adapted.  I studied for close to 150 hours over four months and passed the A+ just fine. 

Learning is finally fun again.  I've maintained my curiosity throughout this entire experience, but now I understand so much more! In the past few weeks, I've read articles about how the development of artificial intelligence is hampered by the English language's inherent bias against women, people of color, and more; how the study of bog bodies is continually changing as technologies helps in new and unexpected ways; how King Tut's father Akhenaten was a true revolutionary of Egypt; and how the bunker under Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado is designed to be actually indestructible, safe from everything from a nuclear war to a 2012-style end of the world. 

I have never been so grateful that I love to learn.  I hope I never forget it. 

5. Take risks.

Anxiety makes me terrified of even tiny risks.  Opening a new book, watching the first episode of a new show, getting words down on paper: these tiny things sometimes feel as insurmountable as Everest.

They shouldn't. 

Risk brings rewards.  Logically I know this -- but as anxiety and depression have made painfully clear, knowing something in your head and feeling it in your heart are wildly different. 

The past year has taught me that risks can be worth it, even when I have to force myself.  It's not a feeling that is going away, either;  in the past week, I've put in over 30 job applications as the school year draws to a close and I remain unsure of where I'm going next.  Some real-life experience has inspired a fabulous idea for a novel, a novel that for once won't be fanfiction nonsense but really me pouring my soul into my writing. 

I have to take risks to move forward, and anxiety can't hold me back. 

6. You’ll never regret pushing yourself to be better.

I've said a lot of what could go here already, but what I haven't said is this:  I'm proud of myself. 

All these changes have been terrifying.  Sometimes the slightest thing will send me over the edge to crying in my car on the way home from work or lying in bed mindlessly watching 30 Rock reruns so I don't have to think. 

Despite everything, I haven't let it stop me.  There is no regret over leaving my job, or trying to learn something new, or anything else.  I haven't given up, even when I wanted to. 

7. Take time to enjoy your hobbies.

I wrote about this on another blog recently because in March, I realized I'd essentially stopped reading.  I'd stopped blogging.  I was playing a shitload of Stardew Valley, an addicting if shallow farming simulator that was absolutely challenge-free, instead of Sniper Elite 3 or the Last of Us or Jade Empire. 

Part of this was reasonable: I was studying 2-3 hours a day to pass the A+. 

Most of this was unreasonable though, and I was boring even myself. 

So I made a change: I set reading goals for myself, like reading all the books people had recommended before the end of the school year.  I built a hammock so I could relax in peace.  I rebuilt my blogs so I didn't forget how much I loved to write. 

It's only been a few weeks, but this is true: Hobbies you love deserve time to enjoy them. 

8. Acknowledge your privilege, and use it to make the world a better place.

The past year has helped me understand privilege in ways I never expected.  I'm just one of likely millions of people unhappy where they are, but I have the resources to do something about it.  I'm employed, insured, and so is my husband -- that is privilege.  I have networking connections and a new certification and experience to help me get a job -- some of that is sheer hard work, but some of it is privilege.  I'll get paid through the end of the summer so there's no pressure to get a job tomorrow -- that is privilege. 

I've been lucky throughout my life to have so many advantages.  My parents grew up poor, but they worked their asses off so I didn't.  My dad helped me pay for college so I didn't graduate with any student loan debt.  They taught me how to manage money so I can pay off my credit cards each month and put money into retirement each year. 

My privilege is tied up in my own abilities to work hard and not give up, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist.  I hear that argument all too often.  It's hard to acknowledge that the world has set you up better than someone else by an accident of birth; I fought it for a long time. 

But I'm realizing now as I leave a service profession that I want to leave the world better than I found it.  For the past years, it's been by being a teacher and trying to help future generations.  Looking forward, I see myself donating money and items instead of time until I figure out where I'm going next. 

I just don't want to forget to be grateful for what I have, and to try to make life easier for someone else, too. 

9. Express yourself, but do it intelligently.

I have 19 tattoos, but you wouldn't know it from looking at me.  Every year when my students find out I have ink, they always tell me I don't seem like the type, and I always laugh. 

This is purposeful.  I love my tattoos, but I don't want them to be all anyone sees -- at work, in a job interview, running errands, just hanging out, whatever I'm doing.  Every image, every quote on my body can be easily covered, and this is the conversation my students and I inevitably have (as kids love talking about tattoos):  Get ink, sure, but be smart about it.  Be able to cover it.  Don't get that boyfriend/girlfriend's name.  Don't get a meme tattoo. 

If they remember nothing else, I hope they remember this. 

10. You are more than your mistakes.

I'm the type to mentally relive every embarrassing thing I've ever done.  Just last weekend, I called a kid the wrong name at prom  (I've been calling him his brother's name all year, so of course I did it again.  Of course.) -- it's been replaying in my head ever since. 

Bishop always tells me this is no big deal, everyone does stupid shit.  I know this, but living it is harder. 

So on Monday, I tried reframing it to see if it made me feel better.  I saw some of this kid's friends, other students I know well, and I told them the story, laughing at myself all the while.  They thought it was hilarious.  And it worked; walking away, I didn't feel so much like a moron. 

The past year of my life, really the past six years of my life, have been full of mistakes.  Some have been huge, and some have been tiny.  It doesn't change that I am more than just those moments. 

And I would do well to remember that in the year ahead.