Focus on one’s vision…
Happy holidays! I'm going to wish you an early, "Happy new year!" as well, since my next newsletter will be coming out on January 8, 2019 (yes, I decided to give you a break on Christmas and New Year's Day!). Thank you so much for reading my newsletters this year. I hope that you've benefitted from my reflections on life and healing.
Over the past week, I read Born a Crime by Trevor Noah, which made me much more aware of racism and apartheid. This book just overflows with love and positivity! Later, I read a provocative article entitled, Does It Matter Where You Go to College? Both the book and article helped me to heal some old childhood issues about thwarted ambitions and following one's dream.
Read on for some of my reflections . . .
Elitism, Racism, and Positivism
Exploring what really matters along life's journey
In Born A Crime, Trevor Noah wrote about his life growing up in South Africa, sharing stories from a land that was as different from mine in Salt Lake City, Utah as hip-hop was from The Book of Mormon. And yet . . . so familiar. Poverty. Racism. Being alone. Looking different from everyone around you. Having a job from an early age to pay for oneself. I could empathize with all of that. Then there were parts unfamiliar to me that I appreciated learning from him: how invincible humor and laughter can be, how strong a single parent's love and positive influence can be, and how a child can absorb a parent's positive influence to empower himself to achieve amazing deeds and say amazing things. His stories from his childhood nurtured me vicariously, as I found myself looking at life through his eyes and walking in his shoes.
In Does It Matter Where You Go To College?, a statement jumped out at me. But before I share it, here's some background from the article:
"In November 2002, the Quarterly Journal of Economics published a landmark paper by the economists Stacy Dale and Alan Krueger that reached a startling conclusion. For most students, the salary boost from going to a super-selective school is 'generally indistinguishable from zero' after adjusting for student characteristics, such as test scores."
Here's the statement that jumped out at me:
"This finding suggests that the talents and ambitions of individual students are worth more than the resources and renown of elite schools. Or, less academically, the person you’re becoming at 18 is a better predictor of your future success than the school you graduate from at 22."
My eyes read that, and my heart absorbed it hungrily. I really needed to know that.
Growing up, my father drilled into me the dream of, no, the need toattend a prestigious university for achievement--if I got good grades and did my part. His ambitions for me became my ambitions. Unfortunately, his lectures also seemed to send the message that my ability to fulfill my dreams depended on attending said elite colleges.
Throughout my childhood, my only ambition was to follow in the footsteps of the writers whose books raised me. I wanted to be a writer like Whitney Houston wanted to be a singer. Well, I did my part and got into U. C. Berkeley, ranked number one at the time in creative writing, and I eagerly anticipated making my dream come true. Unfortunately, I found out that my father had not prepared for, nor when the time came, did he support me in my ability to attend Berkeley. So, I attended the state university instead--burdened with the belief that I could never be successful as a writer, having lost my chance to attend Berkeley. Soon after, I changed my career goals and decided to be a psychiatrist. At the time, it was akin to going to the nunnery to do good deeds for the rest of my life. I didn't know then that I had a talent for picking tough ambitions.
I gave up on my dream, but my dream did not give up on me. As I trudged my way through medical school, residency, and a psychiatry career, I discovered that being creative was not an option but a way of being. Perhaps my desire to be a writer had to be abandoned at the time, not because I wasn't a writer, but because Life wanted me to write authentically, freed from the narcissistic ambitions and greed that drove my creativity as a child. Through the forge of time, the dross that weighed me down as a writer burned away, and the creator in me emerged, unburdened and truly free to create through words.
Lately, I've been finishing up my book proposal for the Hay House Writer's Workshop Writing Contest. I've been working on this baby since June, and it's now 45 pages long. My book is on the topic of how to live as the Creator and not as the created. A memoir. "Transformational nonfiction" as Hay House would call it. Whether I win the contest or not, it will be a win-win for me just to have something formal written for potential publishers. It just happens that Hay House is the perfect publisher for my message.
Which brings me to how I ended up with a copy of Trevor Noah's book. I was squatting down by the biography section of Barnes and Nobel, looking for comparable books that I needed to list in the "comps" section of the book proposal and saw his books arranged on the bottom shelf. I couldn't resist. His memoir is similar to mine, but I won't be using it as one of the comps because, as the editor kindly pointed out, he is famous and I am, well, less famous.
The article I read today seemed sent from heaven, as if to say, "Hey, keep up the good work! Know this: your talents and ambitions as an individual are worth more than the resources and renown of elite schools, so don't ever give up on your dreams."
Live your dreams. Let your light shine.
Take care. Have a great holiday season. Keep an eye out for my next newsletter in January 2019.