Finding My Voice 2: Incompetent disengagement
Artistically incompetent was an ever present term in my mind as I was growing up. No, someone didn’t tell me this, I just felt it inside. In third grade, I realized I was terrible at drawing. In fifth grade, I had a revelation that I couldn’t play the recorder. Struggling to find any joy in the arts, I joined choir in high school to fulfill my fine arts requirement. Sure, I had fun singing Kirk Franklin’s “Riverside” and Faith Evans and 112’s “I can’t believe,” but it didn’t move me like I saw it move others. I still blow a tune gettin’ clean in the shower, and I listen to music 24/7- it is most definitely a passion, but not a “talent.”
Politically disengaged echoed in my head as I prepared to go vote for the first time. I was still in high school, but didn’t know much about where to get more information about the candidates. It was not a Presidential election year, so the youth GOTV efforts weren’t quite in full swing. It truly seemed like an eternity since a “Civics 101” class and I don’t really remember being taught how to be politically engaged or how to be an active citizen. I, like a bazillion other people, got information where it was easily accessible- TV commercials and newspaper articles. Some may call it laziness, but it is a real a question of access and resources, on top of institutional and structural problems within the state/federal system. There is a general lack of genuine engagement of all ages across the spectrum on basic civic participation. I can say this now, but I was very ignorant then.
Ignorance is bliss, right? I am from a family that never uttered the word “politics.” No Wednesday night protests of the war at the Marshall bridge and certainly no dinnertime conversations about the morning headlines. Our family was simply struggling to survive and pay the bills. I was privileged to be able to attend private school but that certainly didn’t come free. I have been an active member of the workforce since I was a sophomore in high school. I worked to help pay for tuition and to be able to buy my own clothes and movie tickets. Everything changed for me when I stepped foot in Minneapolis Community and Technical College. I learned the people’s history of the United States and I learned about social movements such as the American Indian Movement, which was founded right here in Minneapolis! I was angry. I was pissed. My Women’s Studies professor, Carol Hogard, suggested that I channel that energy into something positive. I went that following Wednesday to the Helland Center on campus for my first Sisters for Social Justice meeting. That’s where my activism story begins. Once you get involved, there’s no turning back…
Politically disengaged echoed in my head as I prepared to go vote for the first time. I was still in high school, but didn’t know much about where to get more information about the candidates. It was not a Presidential election year, so the youth GOTV efforts weren’t quite in full swing. It truly seemed like an eternity since a “Civics 101” class and I don’t really remember being taught how to be politically engaged or how to be an active citizen. I, like a bazillion other people, got information where it was easily accessible- TV commercials and newspaper articles. Some may call it laziness, but it is a real a question of access and resources, on top of institutional and structural problems within the state/federal system. There is a general lack of genuine engagement of all ages across the spectrum on basic civic participation. I can say this now, but I was very ignorant then.
Ignorance is bliss, right? I am from a family that never uttered the word “politics.” No Wednesday night protests of the war at the Marshall bridge and certainly no dinnertime conversations about the morning headlines. Our family was simply struggling to survive and pay the bills. I was privileged to be able to attend private school but that certainly didn’t come free. I have been an active member of the workforce since I was a sophomore in high school. I worked to help pay for tuition and to be able to buy my own clothes and movie tickets. Everything changed for me when I stepped foot in Minneapolis Community and Technical College. I learned the people’s history of the United States and I learned about social movements such as the American Indian Movement, which was founded right here in Minneapolis! I was angry. I was pissed. My Women’s Studies professor, Carol Hogard, suggested that I channel that energy into something positive. I went that following Wednesday to the Helland Center on campus for my first Sisters for Social Justice meeting. That’s where my activism story begins. Once you get involved, there’s no turning back…
Labels: 112, American Indian Movement, Carol Hogard, Faith Evans, Kirk Franklin, Minneapolis Community and Technical College
posted by Rebecca McDonald at
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