The late Tupac Shakur had a song set to the tune of Phil Collins’ “In the air tonight”. The song, called “Staring at the world through my rearview”, talked about the injustices of growing up poor and doing what you have to do to get by. I’d be lying if I said I was a diehard Tupac fan, but I did grow to appreciate him and who he was after the fact. The hook of that song totally captured me…”Staring at the world through my rear view, Go on baby, scream to God, he can’t hear you”…..and another part of the song goes..
“You ain’t knowin what we mean by starin through the rearview,
So since you ain’t knowin what we mean let me break down understandin
The world, the world is behind us
Once a m**f**er get an understanding on the game
And what the levels and the rules of the game is
Then the world ain’t no trick no more
The world is a game to be played
So now we lookin at the world, from like, behind us”
Like any song or work of art, the artist can have a specific meaning, or no meaning at all, leaving it up to the observer to interpret the art as they see it…..
About nine years or so ago, I received my doctoral degree. Grad school was hard and you couldn’t pay me enough to do it all over again….seriously, not even a lifetime supply of bacon. I was accepted and chose to go to a school that was somewhat familiar to me that was not too far from home. I had no idea what I was getting into. I thought I was a smart cookie and figured if I could get through the process of getting in, surely all I had to do was work hard and I would be able to get through anything that came at me. I didn’t realize the discrimination I would face in my own backyard.
The people I met and interacted with in that particular institution were just like me….we were all human. And that’s where the similarities stopped. Issues of class and socioeconomic status were so staggeringly different, it was impossible to ignore. I was an alien in a room full of trustafarians, as my friend GHB called them. They said and did things that were hurtful and ignorant. I became angry and resentful. But I also knew I had come too far to give up. I spent as much time figuring out how to maneuver the politics of the institution as I did studying for my degree…and it was exhausting. I refused to let anyone define me and tell me what I could and couldn’t do and just kept it moving.
I learned a lot from my ‘underground degree’…that was the degree I earned that had nothing to do with my books. I learned that if you get angry, people won’t listen if you shout. I learned that just because you can learn not to cry, it doesn’t hurt any less. I learned that not every white person in power wanted to ‘keep me down’. I learned that just because my steps were smaller, they were steps to be taken just the same. I learned that conforming on the outside doesn’t necessarily mean you conform on the inside. Most importantly, I learned not to let anyone speak for me.
It’s hard to respond when people ask about my experience in school because I’m conflicted. If it weren’t for that experience, I would not be where I am today. I dig my career and I’m damn good at it. But the experience that got me there was expensive, literally and figuratively. A classmate once compared the process to that scene in GI Jane (which has since become one of my favorite movies for obvious reasons) where the recruits were asked to write an essay. The task wasn’t about the essay itself; it was about the process of being able to handle the situation under which they had to write the essay. Their superiors cranked up the heat and played classical music, hoping the recruits would yield to their environment, fall asleep, and not complete the essay. So my response about school is always “I learned how to take the heat and not fall asleep”.
Right now, I have one major hurdle to tackle, accomplish, and complete…one last test. Due to the many resources I have employed to get me through it, I have come to realize I am still in battle mode. I still have my dukes up, dodging and weaving, trying to beat the heat. I run around it, kick dirt at it, yell at it, and ignore it, but that hurdle is still there. It’s not moving…it’s in front of me all the time..just there. I couldn’t figure out why, despite my best intentions, I can’t overcome it. I didn’t realize all of my actions, all of my fancy footwork like a prizefighter in the ring, are tiring me out and giving the hurdle more power.
This past week, it hit me that I’ve been going at it all wrong. This hurdle isn’t meant to be kicked down, yelled at, or ignored. Those things I used to do when I was in school won’t work now. I ignored the obvious because I was too damn busy looking for the lesson in it. It’s not me against a classmate, a teacher, or an institution. Those things don’t hold me back anymore because they are gone…and I’m still standing. I need to learn how to get out of my own way. It is what it is…a fuckin hurdle…and hurdles are meant to be run towards and jumped. Once I do that, I can just let it go….and look at that part of my life in my rearview.
ShrinkMuch 