Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Something tells me other majors don't do this...



I had my last Senior Seminar today. The whole theme of the class this semester is Trauma and Memory, so needless to say, it's not the most uplifting stuff to talk about.
Each week we have discussion leaders. I, of course, was part of the last week (not by choice... it was a fluke). I like discussing things, but making up questions for people to discuss is really not my thing. The partner I had uses a lot of big words, and the questions she came up with had me wondering if we read the same book. I think that my brain is just completely fried.
The reading for today was about healing. Useful, judging that all of us are in need of some serious therapy following this class. However, my partner decided to open by reading an excerpt from an article about the day Emmit Till's mother had to identify her mutilated son's body...

Not exactly uplifting and hopeful...

I think that it sort of set an interesting tone for the session, because my questions ended up being a little less on the hopeful side, and a little more on the "How fucked up is this world we live in and there is no hope so let's all give up..."
I think my professor was a little upset.

As an ending to the semester, my professor had us do a ritual. Don't ask me what that means, because I had pretty much checked out by then.

We had to stand in a circle. I was scared we would have to hold hands, so I quickly tried to dry them as fast as possible, because my position as a discussion leader had left them sweaty and clammy. (I was always the girl in elementary school who got stuck with the boy who did not feel the need to wipe his sweaty hands before being paired with me for dance lessons or something. He was also the kid who wiped buggers on the back of his hand too... just a side note.)

Thankfully, there was no hand holding.

We stood in a circle and had to turn to the person on our right, one at a time, and say: So-and-so, I invite you into my space of resistance and affirmation. So my professor began: Josh, I invite you into my space of resistance and affirmation.

I forgot the kids name on my right...
Me: Hey!...
Guy: My name is Peter.
Me: I know! I was just trying to mix it up...
Peter: Yeah... whatever...
Me: Peter, I invite you into my space of... uh...
Girl Behind Me: Resistance and affirmation.
Me: I know... resistance and affirmation... Peter.

I don't think Peter likes me very much.

We then had to stand for a second and think of something in our life that we want to say "no" to. Some people said: I say "no" to fear... I say "no" to solving my problems with alcohol... I say "no" to self-doubt.

Me: I say "no" to hating myself.

We then had to take a deep breath, count to three, and say/scream, with passion and force, "NO!!!!" to that thing.

One, two, three... NO!

I should mention that one of the women in my class has a service dog (I'm not sure why... Joni, Mike and I came up with a scenario involving epilepsy, a torn ACL, social anxiety, and The Carver from Nip/Tuck), and this poor dog FREAKED OUT. He's this huge Mastiff mix, and the poor thing (who we invited into our space of resistance and affirmation) jumped into the middle of the circle (of resistance and affirmation), ears straight out, hair standing up on his back, and tail between his legs. Can you imagine...

DOGGY: Oh... it's so nice sleeping here in this lovely space of resistance and affirmation... what should I say when it's my turn to answer... well, mayb- WHAT THE HELL DID I DO???? WHY DID YOU ALL JUST SCREAM "NO" AT ME????

Ironic how our ritual to get past a semester of trauma and to begin healing caused this doggy severe, possibly lasting, trauma... sorry dude. (Mike says that this doggy is going to need a service dog of his own... Sophia?).

The next step of the ritual was to go around the circle and say "yes" to one thing that we want to let into our lives. Examples: I say "yes" to doing what makes me happy... I say "yes" to crossing boundaries and curiosity... I say "yes" to healing.

Me: I say "yes" to believing in myself.

One, two, three: YES!

DOGGY: Feminists are scary...