Disappointment into Triumph

Being the social butterfly that I am, I wasn't surprised that I was asked to return to my old school to talk about my experiences since graduation, in addition to talking about my starting a pantry. I was glad to do it. Excited even. My former professor had invited me to come sit in her office to chat one day. But as I got ready to go, I shared with my former proff that I don't feel that the school adequately prepared me for the field of social work. I stated that Clark should have focused far more on the DSM V (essentially the bible of mental health) in addition to better prep for our licensure exams. I didn't mean to unload, as I didn't think that this particular proff wasn't over the courses offered, or their set up. I emailed my former professor a few days later to set up a day to come to the class. She didn't respond. I figured it was the end of the semester and she was swamped. I emailed early in the next semester so that we could decide on a day early on. No response. No biggie on my end, since I have tons to do anyway.

But then early last week, I ran into a former secretary from Clark. She told me that they were looking for summertime interns, and I told her that I'd be honored to work with some of them. She encouraged me to contact the same former professor whom I'd spoken with earlier. I figured she'd been a bit salty with me, so I jumped at the opportunity to email her. I reached out, offering myself and my supervisor to help some interns, followed by a "I hope you get to relax this summer, you deserve it" type of statement. She responded with a dry email about sending the information that I'd given her to the proper channels. She ended the email with a snarky comment about "thank you for your continued dedication to improving Clark." Oh. Oh word?

You're salty because I told you honestly that I'd learned that students at an online school that I'd previously looked down on learned more about mental health than I did? Why not be mad at these antiquated ass ideas you have about making shit hard for Black students to make them better? They encouraged us to advocate for our clients in the field, but I guess advocacy ends when you expect this expensive ass college to properly educate you.

Here is a woman who I'd looked to as a supportive figure, a woman whom I genuinely felt wanted what was best for the students. But the moment I share my actual experience (and not throwing friends under the bus, but others who have worked with Clark's social work students, who agree that they know next to nothing about the field) and my desire to enhance this program (let's not even mention that the graduate enrollment is tanking in the school and program), I was pushed aside.

To add insult to injury, a day or so later, I looked online and saw that about 10 of the people that graduated with me had been invited back to speak to her class. Guess who didn't make the cut? I was pissy. I was angry. I was hurt.

I happened to spend last week watching Valerie Jarrett (Obama's former senior advisor) and Stacey Abrams have a talk. I left inspired. I was once again reminded of my dedication to changing lives, and doing bigger and better things. I thought about my pantry connections and thought to myself that I'd reach out to them and see if they'd allow me to come in and do a motivational speaking engagement to practice my skills. So yeah, I didn't speak to the 25 students in your class, but I'll speak to the 100 students over at the pantry. Then a light bulb went off... go BIG.

So I emailed my cousin who works at an urban media outlet and asked if I could be a regular contributor and do articles about Blacks and mental health. To my surprise, he said that the outlet had been looking for something similar and told me that he'd love to have me on. What?! WORD?!

So there it is. I went from angry, hurt, disappointed, to feeling my GODDAMNED SELF!! I'm disappointed to know that my alma mater could be so petty and that the one person I thought was above that mess actually isn't, but I'm so proud of myself for taking my loss and making it even better. Ain't that what gangstas do, though?

Honesty and *sigh*

So I purposely haven't talked much about Luke on here. I get sick of my blog being an online fodder for the mess that is my dating life and I decided to scale back mentioning every dude that catches my eye, until he's put in some real time. But all the while, I was getting to know Luke. He lives out of town and we met online. Luke told me early on about the fact that he was going through a divorce after 23 years of marriage. They'd been separated for 8 months at the time, now 10 months.
Luke seemed pretty well adjusted. He did sometimes discuss the difficulty he'd faced in his new normal, but overall, he seemed to be handling it all like a champ.

Enter Friday. He texted me that morning (as he does pretty much every morning and evening), updating me that he'd had a stomach bug that messed him up the day before. I laughed and suggested some remedies to settle his stomach. Then no response. I texted him later in the evening to inquire how he was holding up. Again, crickets. I called the next morning to ask how he was. No response. *sigh* Here we go.

For a man who'd spent the last 2 months checking in several times throughout the day, something was wrong. He was probably either dead or reeling from the divorce. Death probably would have been easier for me to deal with. In his absence, I talked it all over with Davis, my temporary roommate. Davis couldn't believe that he'd been married for so much of his life, over half. He made a good point of stating that Luke didn't even really grow up by himself, so he has no idea what being alone really is. Davis pretty much said that dating a man like that right now would be essentially navigating a mine field. Davis advised me to cut my losses.

After hearing nothing all weekend, Luke texted me Monday. I was pretty salty about his absence, but I decided to play it cool and be patient. I texted later on to ask if he still intended to meet up with me this coming weekend. He responded with "oh, my bad, sorry, I can't make it." I finally just responded "is everything okay?' That's when he'd opened the floodgates that the previous holiday weekend (Easter) just got to him. The reality of the loss of his family and his marriage. It was all hitting him at once. I assured him that things were okay and that his emotions are valid. Being a social worker certainly seeps on into my personal life at times. I stated that if he still wants to meet up, we can just get coffee and talk instead, no pressure. He told me that he didn't want me to see him cry. I reminded him of my job and told him that he definitely wouldn't be the first man I'd seen cry. We kind of left the idea of a meet up in the air at that point.

At first I said to myself, "I can do this. I'll just play it cool and help him through this, and then perhaps once he's in a better space, we can pick back up the romance stuff." But then Sista Girl Malika kicked in. I reminded myself of the many men that I'd done the emotional labor for and with, helping them, encouraging them, staying up late on the phone with them as they poured out their hearts and souls to me. And then once they felt better, since I'd been friend-zoned by that point, they'd flaunt their happy new relationship in my face, and expect me to continue to cheer on their new happiness. I think, the fuck, not!!

I started to weigh if Luke was someone that I just needed to walk away from. If perhaps, 10 months out still isn't enough time for us to try to start casually dating. I decided to chat with Davis about Luke. I told Davis that I might just move forward, sharing my fears of doing the emotional legwork for Luke to go skipping into the sunset with a new woman. Davis, who doesn't always think on a lateral level, stated that I should continue to keep Luke in my space. I'd told him how Luke early on suggested that even if we didn't keep dating, that because I'm so dope (well, duh) he wanted to remain friends. I mean, I get it and all, but I'm not really here for that. I'm not getting brownie points for playing the patient savior here. That if I cut the ties, I mean it. I'd keep him as a Facebook friend, but I'd unfollow him and stop with the phone calls and text messages. I've made the mistake of making myself to available to men that had no intentions of pouring back into me too many times in the past. Davis tried to claim that I should keep him around me to build strength and have no expectations and other bullshit. I think, the fuck, not!! I'm not going to create extra work for myself, just to prove something. I don't have a damned thing to prove to myself or anyone else.

Luke texted me this morning, thanking me for my kind words and support yesterday. I stared at the text message for two hours before I responded with a simple "good morning and you're welcome." I happened to be listening to my new favorite song by Pink Sweat$ this morning, "Honesty", when one of the lyrics it home for me.

She said "what if I tell you all the things I've done?
Would you run away from me?
I told her "Baby, well all got bags full of shit that we don't want.
But I can't unpack it for you baby."

And that hit home. Because we do. And because I can't. Not sure how much further this will go on. Or if I even want it to.

I Had A Dream

After Pete died, I waited anxiously for my dream. You know, the one where people talk about their parents or Big Mama coming to them and telling them that everything will be okay. I felt like I should have my dream soon. Some dream where we had a conversation, offering some sense of closure. A sign from the other side, telling me that he'd made it and that things would be okay. It bothered me. I mean sure, I did have a few dreams with him in them, but nothing delivering a profound message. I actually got a bit jealous of other people, how they'd tell me that a loved one came to them in a dream, wrapped their arms around them and said that they would meet again. But I never got that. Until now.

Last night, I went to sleep as always, it was a typical evening. I went to sleep and was soon transformed to a hallway in my job. I was in a hallway with him, standing next to other clients. And his arm was around me. I dug my my head into his shoulders, comforted by his presence. I said something to him about the fact that he'd been gone for 2 years. He mentioned to me that it didn't feel that long to him at all. I continued to lean into him, and then with the blink of an eye, he was gone. Just like that. I looked up and I was being held up by the wall and Pete was gone again. I happened to be woken in that moment by my alarm. I lay in my bed, looking around, it was all a dream.

I just sat in my bed and felt the tears streaming down my face. It was so real. He was there with me. I felt him. I felt his strong arms latching on to me, making me feel secure and comforted. Loved, warm, and adored.

Spring has proven to be a challenge to me since Pete died. He died in early March, during a particularly warm late winter. It was a warm day when the news hit. I was driven home by colleagues, and after a crying fit to the gods, I woke that evening, and sat outside. I knew to look up at the stars, because there was no doubt in my mind that he was a star now. He was a star before, but undeniably now.

I spent a lot of time outside that spring. It made me feel so much closer to him. When spring hit this year, I realized just how much those small signs of spring all take me back to Him. I sat outside one day and observed the actual smell of spring. The slight smell of pollen, the smell of the greenery of the new flowers, the new grass growing. The sounds of the birds, the sound of bugs mating, it all creates one giant remembrance from right after he died. The original season of my grieving.

So anyway, I finally got my dream. My moment to feel close to him one more time. Perhaps the spring inspired it. Either way, I was ready. And I'm already for another one. Hopefully it won't take 2 more years. But if it does, I'm still ready.

Growing Up- Kinda

I've struggled with the idea of changing jobs for a while now. My clients love me, but the fact is that I've been yearning to do something more. Something way more. My plan was to go on a trip this summer, and then when I return, start looking for a new job and then subsequently move to a new apartment and possibly a new side of town. But there is a old saying that goes "if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans." A large part of my plans rested on receiving my tax return early enough to start planning for my vacation, but due to (some bullshit) circumstance beyond my control, I am grounded until my money lands. So no moving. Yet, at least. And no vaycay. Again, yet.

A good friend mine works with a fancy government job, and she convinced me a while back to apply. Honestly, master's degree and all, I felt a little over my head applying for such positions. I felt like a small fish in a large pond. I felt like I was playing pretend. Me? Lil old me? Me?! I've talked about it and looked at the website, but for some reason, I just didn't feel ready. I knew that it was in the cards, I just never quite knew when. Plus having a child makes things a bit more challenging. Whenever I make a step in one direction or another, I need to make sure that the Boy is in a good place.

But I've been feeling a squeeze. No doubt in my mind, that the time will soon come for me to move on from here. I just don't know when and how. So recently, out of nowhere, Ted sent me a job listing for a school in the Atlanta University Center. I didn't even look at the link. A week later, he and I were talking shop (he works in the same field, but works at a school in the AUC as well) when he mentioned the job he'd sent. He said "its perfect for you. You started the pantry, you went to an AUC school, you need to go on and apply." Talk about pressure. I looked at the link, and Ted was right. I have the experience, the heart, the know-how, the social networking connections, the education, etc. But can I do it? Am I good enough to work at this illustrious institution? Will they look at my resume and laugh? Certainly, they won't waste their time to call me in for an interview. *sigh* I applied 2 nights ago.

Coincidentally, I talked to a girlfriend about my desire to move to California and asked what she'd learned from her short stint there. She plans to move back one day, but encouraged me to start looking and possibly make that leap. I'm thinking I'd prefer to do it once pumpkin leaves high school, but I'm not sure. She'd randomly sent me a link to a job she'd seen posted in Seattle. I have zero desire to move to Seattle, but her sending me that random link sparked something. I'm not trying to heavily job search until I get back from my two week vacation (I'm not playing with y'all! I want my trip!), but I looked again at the government site at jobs the other night, and I searched for jobs in my field. Nothing yet, but I sense this may have to do with the glut of soon to be new graduates applying for jobs. But now I feel ready. Its almost time for me to make that move. I got this. Finally.