Wednesday, May 11, 2011

victim of a catastrophe... |letter #15|



Have we heard your cry?  Have we looked to your despair when you passed us by?  The place of my roots, the place of the mentally, emotionally, and physically oppressed, why have you fallen with no motivation to rise up?  I visited you not too long ago, before your surface struck by the most devastating of tragedies.  I went to serve you and your people through medicine, aid, and attention.  I lived within you, blended with your rhythm, and discovered your mysteries. Though you wept for your people, I found life in them.  Lives so carefree, where was their stress? Where was their divided focus and attention to the superficial?  Instead, the people lived with the appreciation of life despite destruction.  They embraced what was really important because they thought this day was their last.  Although sick, needy, hungry, weak, and unable, the people were products of the internal jewels the world could not give us.  In their hopelessness, they found a freedom and peace others die searching for. Yet we see you as a victim of catastrophe, Haiti?  How mistaken are we for how long will we be blind to our own ever-present catastrophe within us?  Lives filled with consuming technology, where do our values lie?  Internally, we die a slow death as we make significant the things that will soon disintegrate.  Our relationships are sour, our patience low, our focus undivided, our motives dark.  We are the living in destruction that lasts longer than a simple earthquake. 


Haiti Earthquake Relief- Operation Unified Response 2010
Courtesy of Expertinfantry 

Love,
 Stephanie 


it's not enough to just love anymore... |letter #14|

Dear My Future Husband, 

Make Up
Courtesy of Re_

It's funny how some things don't work out.  Couple days ago, I realized that the fairytale love story I always dreamt for myself no long existed.  I've always wanted to be swept off my feet by this amazing man who was madly in love with me.  I wished to be wooed with declaratory acts of love and affection and I wanted to feel like I was the most desired girl in the world.  It's not like that over here in college.  Everyone is concerned with themselves.  Guys here don't want to woo a girl.  There are no acts of chivalry.  My desires for love and a relationship are out of place.


make-up.1
Courtesy of yasmin_f

 Instead, I need to learn the game in order to succeed in something that I don't even truly know that I want in the end.  Giving up myself is the key to earning the care, love, and attention I look for.  I need to look, dress, act, talk, and be a certain way to be considered attractive and "wifey material".  Did I mention it would be best for the color of my skin to be 3 shades lighter?  In the end, it's not enough to be me anymore.  Really, it's not enough to just love anymore.  That's ancient nowadays. 

Pam P.
Courtesy of voxefx




Love,
 Stephanie 

Sunday, March 20, 2011

until now... |letter #13|

Dear Class of 2013,


Springy.
Courtesy of sleepyjeanie 

About five minutes ago, I felt inspired to speak up.  These past two years here in Atlanta has been a whirlwind as I soared through the excitement of being fresh into college, meeting dozens of new people a week, and figuring out myself and what I want out of this life.  Friends have come and gone, opportunities arisen and passed, and time still put up a fight of whipping us by.  In seconds, we will be soon graduating and moving on unto the next phrase of our lives.  In only a short matter of time. 

When that time comes up, will I have felt as if I have cheated my time here at Spelman?  Students have matriculated through school with their minds set only on earning that four year degree.  They will do whatever it takes to get to end of the road and on to the next chapter.  Life becomes a ticking clock as they count down the days instead of making their days count.  Some have become self-focused.  The stimulations around them soon provoke no response of concern or interest.  They linger in the shadows disconnected to the world around them.


napoleonic wars
Courtesy of Jane Ranham

As a class, we are great. We carry an undeniable amount of talent, dreams, and future that can one day change the world.  Coming from areas across the world, we are a representation of hope for those in our lives.  Somehow, we found each other here, in the urban parts of Atlanta, Georgia.  Paths intertwined, we have a mission and a movement.  Each of us has our part in order to create this dream into reality. 

My confession is that I have been guilty of hiding. I was the person who became so self-focused that I failed to engage in the motions around me the way I should.  I failed to get to know you.  I failed to share myself with you.  I failed to show you what I can offer.  I failed to serve our purpose.  I failed to act and participate in our big picture.  I failed to make my mark. 


under sky
Courtesy of Victor Bezrukov

Until now. Not only do I owe it to you, but I owe it to myself. The time is now. 

Love,
 Stephanie