En Vogue – “Free Your Mind”

Growing up, your parents raise/groom/train you to be certain ways.  No, we’re not animals but we are guided by our parents, either by the things they do or don’t do, tell us or don’t tell us.  There are plenty exceptions to the rules but the goal of most parents is to protect and “properly” raise their kids.  Equip and encourage them with the tools and confidence they’ll need to achieve their goals.  These are all noble aspirations.

Beyond the (hopeful) comfort of home, every person has certain things they feel are important to their child’s ability to effectively navigate the outside world.  Some things are somewhat universal (i.e. traffic laws, waiting in line, “please” ,”Yes ma’am”/”No, sir”, etc).  But for each parent, there are rules of life that are more specific to their life experiences, whether those experiences were shaped by gender, race, religion, class, etc.  Whether your parent believes in the superiority (or inferiority) of one group over another, most will try to equip their child for other people’s view on the matter.  For me growing up, while gender played a small role, my difference was my race.  Being black meant a lot more than requiring the brown crayon instead of the peach or being less likely to sunburn.  (Seriously, I was 21 before I had my first sunburn and I only noticed when I started to peel.)

As a brown baby, I was given a collection of “other” rules to make it easier to operate in world not designed or “run” by people who looked like me (or necessarily valued looking like me).  Now, I was taught and understood that white people were not “the” or an enemy.  They were just the people who could make my life especially difficult.  Of course that understanding has evolved with age and experience but things were relatively simple for a nine-year-old black girl growing up in the not-so-reformed South in the 90s.

A few examples:

• Persona: Stealing/Shoplifting is bad.  And while I may not be doing anything wrong, I will be watched.  Advice: Never open or mess around in your bag while in a store.  Preferably zip/close it before you walk in.
• Image: You should love yourself and how God made you.  But we press/straighten our hair before we go see God in church on Sundays.  Sunday Best meant straight hair (among other things…)
• Image: Also “professional” women and beautiful little girls have straight hair.  DON’T mess up your hair!
• Language: Whatever slang you use at home cannot be used in public.  It’s just not right and other/white people will think you’re not smart.  (This was well before the ebonics as a language debate.)
• Persona: Watch your temper.  People will be afraid of you and be unable to explain why.  You will have to be more patient, more forgiving and more resilient.
• School/Professional: Grades will not speak for themselves.  You may have to work twice as hard for people to consider you to be just as good.  God forbid you ever be better/smarter…
• School/Professional: Also, don’t ever give anyone the opportunity to accuse you of cheating (along the same lines as stealing).  You’ll be a suspect before blond Suzy.  Prove them wrong.
• And many more…

There are a lot of little things that help black kids understand that while they may be equal according to God and an amended constitution, in the eyes of many people who hold the keys to their comfort and/or success, they may not be.  More importantly, people invested in their success (and mental health) work to teach those kids how to navigate the waters and handle the less than choice situations.  I’ve been called names, physically assaulted, ignored, picked on, offended and completely avoided because you can’t see my veins and I could pull off dreads.  In elementary school, a teacher pulled me out of the gifted program because no black student had qualified.  She felt I needed to be retested if I was to continue in it.  I was asked by a little girl on the bus, “Who rolled you in the mud when you were born?”  (Lovely, right?)  A librarian in a small midwestern town I was visiting questioned if I was actually reading the books I was checking out or just carrying them.  I’ve watched store owners watch me as I watched other less tan people happily slip objects into their bags.  In college, I was attacked on campus because of two things: 1.) I was black and 2.) he was drunk.  However with everything, I am very fortunate and thankful I was born black in the 80s rather than anytime sooner.  We are evening out.  Eventually everyone will be a little more tan.  I apologize in advance to the sunscreen companies.

My point is not that life (at least mine) is terrible.  It’s jut life.  We all have prejudices and -isms we’re subject to.  For me, black, female and middle class quickly sum it up.  There are good and bad, defeating and empowering things about just about any label I could give myself.  My point is that my parents, family, teachers, friends all worked to shape and prepare me for the status quo.  I’ll never be thin, pale, blond or blue-eyed.  BUT I can be molded in ways to make my differences less offensive to those fitting those descriptions.  I’ve been packaged in a way that might make it easier for WASPs (White Anglo-Saxon Protestants) to accept.

Throughout my life, I’ve been described as an oreo – black on the outside, white on the inside.  I’ve been told I’m the smartest (0r only smart) black person someone has met.  Been described as being a very white black person (as if that’s a thing, let alone a good thing).  Asked why I speak so well.  Been told I am (surprisingly) respectful.  Informed my neck doesn’t move nearly as much or my voice doesn’t get as loud as some (of my) people.  Been seen as an “exception”.

As sad (or infuriating) as all of those things may be, they probably make all of the people who worked so hard to prepare me for the “real” world very proud on a private, painful, never-to-be-openly-discussed level.  I was born in America, raised (mostly) in Black America and “Made” for White America.

Living in Fill in the Blank America now,

Jo’van

Musiq Soulchild’s “Don’t Change”

When we go off to college, we quickly learn about the famed “Freshman 15″.  Supposedly, the first year you’re away from home, you’re supposed to stop eating vegetables (because your mother’s not making you) and pledge to exist on pizza and beer (bought by cooler, older juniors and seniors or the weird kid down the hall with a fake ID).  This waist enlarging myth was recently debunked by researchers at Ohio State.  (Refer to the NYTimes) According to the study, first-year students gain on average 3 lbs.  15 is an extreme exaggeration.  Heavy drinkers gain more (lite beer, anyone?…) and students with a job tend to gain less (other priorities and possible movement beyond reaching for the phone with Pizza Hut on speed dial).  Makes sense, right?  Ok, a myth debunked.

Besides college, the other time of great weight gain (non-pregnant) people my age discuss or consider a given is what I’m terming the “Relationship 15″.  (The 15 is not necessarily part of the general description but it’s a rough estimate for my recent gain.)    Supposedly when you get into a long-term relationship, it’s very likely that your happiness will be visible in your growing wasitline.  (This is also something said for recent newlyweds.)

There are a number of possible reasons for the “more of you to love”:

1.) Keeping Up Bite for Bite – Sometimes when on dates or out with friends, it’s tempting to keep up with your significant other bite for bite.  When you first start dating, it may be tempting to order a salad and appreciate your favorite pair of Spanx.  After all we like to put our best, manicured, permed, new outfitted, stiletto-ed foot forward.  A few months in and fried cheesesticks and sweatpants might be sounding pretty good.

2.) Indulgent Meals – Dates often give us an excuse to eat the things we want.  When you go out with friends, the favorite, cheap restaurant or dish might be your goal.  If you’re anything like my friends and I, you want it to be good but may not be ready to drop $50+ to hang out with friends.  Some people (i.e. I) use dates as the perfect way to try that new restaurant.  If you’re going somewhere new, you might be tempted to try whatever grabs your interest or the house specialty.  Get dressed up, order wine, make it an occasion.

3.) Alcohol – Along the same lines of indulgent meals, increased alcohol consumption might add a few ounces to your pounds.  While you may struggle to justify having a beer or glass of wine by yourself, having someone to share that new or favorite might be the perfect excuse to indulge.

4.) Heart to Stomach Key – The old saying “the way to a man’s heart is through is stomach” is debatable but embraced just the same.  When I was single, I cooked “good” meals when I craved them or had a particular occasion to plan for.  As a woman in a relationship, I’m more tempted to consider making more “real” meals; meat and potatoes, more than a shake or a salad.  There’s also a desire to impress.  I was never grown up enough to host or attend “dinner parties”.  With a man, there could be a “dinner party” everyone night if I had the available patience and groceries.  (Although, I will not be cooking or cleaning by myself.  That’s an entirely different post for a later time…)

5.) Adopting Bad Habits – The more time you spend with someone, the more traits you (can) pick up from them.  Eating habits are just one of them.  If you have a problem with restraint but your significant other likes to have options on hand, chances are their supplies will dwindle while your pant size increase.  If your significant other eats light and early but you enjoy late, full, heavy meals, you may see your other getting  a little more bootylicious. Etc…

6.) Workouts Interfering with Cuddling – When you’re in a good relationship, it’s normal to want to spend as much time with that person as possible.  I’m not condoning anti-social behavior but wanting to cuddle rather than doing most things you do to fill up your time is understandable.  There are many reasons to workout including vanity, control, to fill up time and because over all health is important to you (ugh).  If you’re like me and it was a mix of some of these things, a comfortable relationship can get in the way.  You’d rather be with that person than alone on a run or at the gym.

7.) Loss of Motivation – For some, working out is a means to looking good which is a means to attracting a man/woman.  Once you’ve secured a “good one”, working hard to maintain whatever you had may not seem all that important.  In the same way, cute little dresses and heels give way to sweatpants and slippers, steady workouts can give way to questioning your gym fees.

8.) Emotional Eater – Relationships can be good and bad.  If you’re an emotional eater and things aren’t all pretty pictures, eating your feelings can make you feel temporarily better until you realize you’re still unhappy and you’ve begun trying to justify elastic waistbands to yourself.

Aretha Franklin impersonating Mavis Staples, Gladys Knight and Diana Ross

Last night, I had the good fortune (and nearly available funds) to see ARETHA FRANKLIN in concert!  It/she/the band was awesome.  Sure, she’s older (69) and possibly still ailing (unexplained surgery nearly a year ago) but she is an undeniable DIVA!!!  Her voice is still a force to be reckoned with and she has no problem owning her stage.  She brought us up, down, closer to the Lord, into bed with a lover and out of a tough situation all in an hour and a half.  About to two-thirds of the way through, Aretha sat down at the piano.  Shocking, I know.  Like most from her era, singers were also expected to be musicians and/or songwriters.  Basically, Aretha did what few “singers” today can do – actually PERFORM.  There was no dancing or light shows, costume changes or theatrics.  She sang, the band played and the audience cheered.  So simple, so raw, such a lost art…

2011 has been the year of the diva in Austin.  Gladys Knight (calm and smooth delivery on a stool), Diana Ross (5 costume stages and vocal flair) and Aretha Franklin (turn the AC off, okay now turn it back on and put my purse under the baby grand) have all stopped by.  If you want to extend it to the men, Smokey Robinson and Stevie Wonder have also graced us with their presence.  Sadly, Smokey’s ticket prices were beyond my financial capabilities but the other king and queens of classic R&B and soul were phenomenal.  As a music fan/lover/obsessor, nothing’s better than seeing your idol(s) in their element – live.  I think we often forgive our contemporary stars’ raw vocal talents (or more appropriately, lack of) for radio-friendly songs and eye-catching imagery.  I believe we’re missing the point – Music is supposed to move you and singers are supposed to remind you why you should only sing in the shower…

As you may know, I am an amateur songstress.  I would NEVER compare myself to the music giants mentioned above.  Their talents are undeniable while mine are more subjective.  BUT my baby skills have largely been influenced by these masters of their crafts.  They influenced both me and my more contemporary influences.  Despite cramped seats, late starts, no A/C at the request of the artist and menacing storm clouds at an outdoor concert, each simply delivered.  I was in awe and so happy I didn’t miss the opportunities to see these music greats live.

At these and most concerts I attend, there’s an “Encore” period.  Yes, this is pretty standard.  (However, I’m secretly waiting for the show when the artist doesn’t come back out and we just hear the tour bus start up or the crowd agrees to remain silent just to see what happens…)  I realize this extended applause and chanting for the artist to return to the stage is something everyone just expects now but I can’t imagine that not being the most fulfilling sound for an artist.  (Sure, “I love you”, “I do”, and “Dada” are great but I mean professionally.)  In my limited music career (ha, I wish I could really even call it that), applause is the sweetest sound imaginable.  (Maybe ca-ching or “and the Grammy goes to” would sound better but…)  I’ve never sung because I considered myself to be amazing but because I love creating (or interpreting) and sharing.  It may not be good but it’s mine.  And if you think it’s good, we can love each other. 

I may be a bit strange (shocking) but I’m rarely nervous before I perform.  I do my best to stay calm and indifferent.  “Well, if I do well and they like it, that’s great.  If not, oh well.”  I imagine that attitude is both a result of trying to reassure myself and reminding myself this is not my career.  While, I had fantasies as a child (teenager/20-something, let’s just be honest), I knew the chances were slim to none anything would come of it.  So I never really pursued it and stayed “realistic”.  I got a four-year degree in something (at least a little) more secure and entered the general workforce.  The most creative thing I do now is… Actually, I’m at a loss in my current job but whatever.  My job is a relatively standard desk job.  I’m not really creating anything or connecting with anyone on a level beyond the 9 to 5.

But when I sing, I do.  I can see people reacting to the music their hearing.  If it’s a cover, you could hear “Oh yeah” and “I love this song”.  They then listen to see if I do the song (or the original artist) justice.  When it’s original, the connection is harder but not impossible.  In the end, if they like it, they’ll let you know.  It’s a simple, potentially brutal, process.  If you like me, make noise.  If you don’t….crickets.

I don’t think any manager, customer, colleague or attendee could thank me in a way so deeply impactful as cheering.  (And I’m not hoping applause becomes a standard way to show appreciation in cubicles…) “Good jobs” are greatly appreciated and not to be shunned.  But you applaud a musician because you appreciate their natural skill (sure it can be honed and perfected but it’s natural nonetheless) and want to thank them for sharing it with you.  Maybe it’s counter-intuitive but there’s something about being thanked for a natural skill, as I see them to be more intimately connected to who you are, than for an ability, that’s been learned.  That’s probably weird.  Oh well..  That awkward moment between the start of you final note and possible applause is the exact moment my nerves come flooding back, minutes, hours or days worth.  That final exhale could bring me to my knees if I let it.  Thank God for standard, polite applause.

Needing Patti and Chaka to tour soon,

Jo’van

Adele “Hometown Glory”

For some reason, I started thinking about the terrible 90′s movie “Made in America”. If you’re not familiar (spoiler alert), sharp-tongued, widowed, black, inner city bookstore owner (Whoopi Goldberg) finds out (through blood-typing in public high schools, really?) the sperm donor father of her teenage daughter (Nia Long) is not a random black man but in fact crazy, perpetual bachelor, over-the-top, pickup-truck-on-steroids-driving, crazy tv personality white car salesman (Ted Danson) .  Whoopi and Ted fight and flirt and the start of a blended family emerges in time for Nia’s valedictorian speech.  While rife with cliches and stereotypes, the movie is cute/entertaining enough.  (It’s interesting to note that Goldberg and Danson actually dated in real life. That one still doesn’t make send to me but I digress…)

Yes, the premise of the movie is ridiculous but only somewhat plausible.  In the case of these parents, their relationship began because of a baby they didn’t know they’d conceived together and a clerical error.  Going beyond the ridiculousness, I began to think about the underlying message – No matter what their differences or how they came to be, blended families and inter-racial (or inter-generational, inter-religious, inter-political, mulit-lingual, etc) couples are becoming more common and less offensive to the general public.  (I’d argue that the two are not one in the same.)

My family is a perfect example. I have 10 people in my immediate family.  No, my parents were not rabbits.  They were “progressive”.  While there are key differences that are missing, my immediate family is definitely the most “blended” of anyone I’ve actually met.  When explaining my family to the newbie who has no idea what they’re getting themselves into, I start by saying we are THE 90′s family.  (Sometimes I wish could whip out a diagram with VH-1 graphics.)  Most of the wonderful and terrible things that were said to happen the family structure in the 70′s and 80′s happened to my family. (Cue the curtain…)

In the beginning, there were three traditional couples married with children, same religions, same races.  For various reasons, divorce entered the discussion and then there were six divorcees sharing five kids.  Everyone married again and had more kids. The end. Kind of…

I am an only child of a black couple that once was.  I have four parents, six siblings, one brother-in-law and a niece.  We are black, white, bi-racial, multi-racial, mixed, college students, struggling twenty-somethings, parents in their 30′s, methodist, baptist, catholic, mormon, vegetarian (not a religion but when your dad’s a hunter with mounted deer heads and fish, it’s enough), reformed screw-ups, goodie-twoshoes, musically inclined, athletically blessed, step, half, whole, born into, invited to join and somewhere in-between.  (As individuals, we are much more but who’s got time for all of that?) Half of the kids have two “homes”, while the other half may wish they had more than one. Some of us switched households for holidays and school breaks, while the others lost or gained siblings throughout the year. Sounds like fun, right? And for the most part it is.  Budgeting Christmas presents and negotiating holiday schedules are the only times it truly sucks.

Let me point something out again: I am an only child with six siblings.  In less than three year’s time, I went from the spoiled only child of divorced parents to the middle child of two households.  Seriously, only to the middle! That’s any only child’s nightmare.  Ok, enough of that…

There are several blog posts to be written about what it means to play any of those roles, especially the roles I fill. But for now, I’ll just end with one thought – Most families are like vanilla ice cream in a cake cone and that’s lovely.  But we opted for the twist in a sugar cone, a bit more complicated but delicious just the same. I love the 90′s!

Thanksgiving in Phoenix and a Nashville Christmas? Sounds about right.
Jo’van

Prospects are really projects but projects usually aren’t really prospects.  Project – He’d be great if…  Prospect – She’s great even though…  There will always be buts…  The oldest, happiest couples tell you they learn more about each other everyday.  No one person stays the same.  Life simply doesn’t allow it. Therefore, no relationship can stay the same.  But if you go in ready to “fix” someone to what you want,  failure is probable because you didn’t really want that person to begin with.  That’s not to say you can’t see potential in a person but you also can’t fully define what the embodiment of that potential should look like.

Love can’t be forced and neither can personality changes.  The most meaningful, long-lasting changes are choices.  Choosing to love means choosing to change. You just have to make sure the changes you make or desire don’t lead to bitterness or a feeling of loss of self.  Couples may work as units but they are still comprised of two independent thinking, independent feeling people.  The view of a healthy, working unit is thanks to constant consideration of how the other person may feel about a situation.  He and I.  She and I. Always.  That type of consideration doesn’t come form a successful project.  Just ask Kim Kardashian. (Too soon?)

Wondering if she’s a project herself,

Sorry the post was so long.  It’s been too long since I’ve posted and I just got a little excited…

Vintage Brandy “Almost Doesn’t Count [Live]“

I am always concerned about the way people perceive me.  I know it’s cliché and I should have more confidence in myself, blah, blah, blah.  But it’s true and I doubt it’s something that’s going to ever completely go away.  Rather than feel foolish about it, I just have to accept and recognize when it’s creating a ridiculous reaction/response.

Amongst other things, I have a problem dealing with disappointment.  If/when a friend, family member or significant other lets me down, I take it hard.  My heart sinks, lungs get heavy and in extreme cases if I’ve had enough time to think about it and be offended, I get a not-so-slight burning sensation in my chest.  (I’m expecting an ulcer by 28.  It’s truly unfortunate…)  However, the physical is nothing in comparison to the mental and emotional.  I can really take it personally.

If the situation/result is out of their control, I realize I have to choke back whatever my initial response is and be a grown-up about it.  Shit happens.  There’s not a person (currently) in my life that has the power to really hurt my feelings that I believe would do it intentionally.  Most people have nothing but the best of intentions for the people they care about.  I have to find comfort in that (at least…).

However, if the situation/result is completely within their control and they just made a decision, that’s a whole different story.  While in the end I still have to suck it up and move on,  choosing to change plans or not follow through with something you’d said makes a big difference to me.  Running the risk of abusing the cliché, I have little patience for flakes.

Flakes are everywhere, nearly impossible to avoid.  I just rarely choose to intimately associate with them.  Therefore, I’m rarely affected by the things they fail to do.  However, when someone I care about and trust lets me down, it takes everything within me to….let them know.

Not the general response, I know.  Despite the intense personal reaction, it’s very difficult for me to unhappily express myself to those I care about.  I’m often afraid to react verbally because I don’t want my message or true feelings to be lost in the emotional display.  So rather than be fair to the person I’m mounting a mental attack against (or to myself), I swallow it and try to minimize the situation.  ”Sure, no problem.  Things happen.  I’ll figure something else out.  Have fun.  I don’t mind.  Etc.”

Now I’m not the big punk I’m making myself out to be.  It’s not that I don’t want to express myself or feel that my feelings are in some way invalid.  It’s just that I want to do it as calmly and honestly as possible.  Finding that balance generally means I have to take a step back.  Despite my typicaly composed, some would say even “professional”, nature, there is always something going on behind scenes.  And I know that when I start it can be difficult to stop.  I just want to make sure that what I say is what I really mean, what’s appropriate for that particular situation.

However that desire to take a step back can often hurt more than it helps.  By the time I’ve thought things over and calmed down, it may seem as if the moment has passed.  What’s worse: overreacting at the moment or bringing up old things the other person thought had been resolved (if they were even aware there was a problem in the first place)?

Not everything’s going to go my way.  But when something happens that leaves me sad, hurt, disappointed or offended, it’s probably not best to cover it up with a half-hearted PR smile and polite responses that completely betray my true feelings.  It’s not all that realistic to believe those feelings will just poof go away.  I may be able to bury them and move forward but there’s only so much one person can bury.  If you’re anything like me, you’ll reach a boiling point and erupt.  The cause of that eventual eruption is usually minor, making me look even more the overreacting drama queen I’d worked so hard to avoid.

Before you go off the deep end, it’s probably best to really evaluate the situation.  What are you upset about and how upset are you?  Had you really been looking forward to something or made some plans that are now null and void because of something someone else did?  Did that person understand what this meant to you?  True surprises aside, it’s often easy for someone to dismiss something you didn’t seem to really care about.  There can be a fine line between complaining and explaining.  But if you’re genuinely upset, I think it’s okay to risk it.  Avoiding the conversation doesn’t give you the power to avoid disappointment.  If nothing else, it just forces you to avoid a resolution.  Sometimes some things cannot be fixed.  But a sincere “I’m sorry” can go a long way.

Regardless of the reason/cause, it’s best for the ones you love to know something they’ve done has hurt you.  If nothing else it’s a reminder that even the perpetually calm have feelings.  Perceived indifference and lack of emotion (good or bad) comes off cold.  If you’re hurting, the last thing you want is someone thinking you don’t care (or, worse, you couldn’t…).

It’s not fair to anyone to feel the need to judge their own, honest feelings for or about the people they want in their lives.  And it’s not fair to the people you supposedly care about and trust to hide your true feelings.  Relationships need to be uncomfortable at times.  If they’re not, someone’s not being honest.  It’s impossible to avoid disappointment.  The best we can all do is pick our battles and not punk out for the sake of perception.

Hoping to count to 3 and respond, rather than 3 million and blow up,

Jo’van

Another year has passed.  The good, the bad and the ugly have all happened.  But in the end (as always), I emerged victorious.  I’ve loved.  Hated.  Feared.  Cheered.  Been praised and berated. Questioned my worth and counted my blessings.  2010 was a good year.  Now enter 2011.

I wish I could be more philosophical.  But I’m momentarily at a loss.  I currently have almost everything I’ve ever wanted.  (If I don’t have it, I’m on track to…)  All things considered, there are six crucial components of my life.  With each, there’s some definite work to be done but things are promising:

1.) Family:  I jokingly complain about my large, very 90s family, especially around Christmas.  Having ten people in your immediate family is no Christmas shopping joke.  But I’m blessed to have all four of my parents and six of my siblings (and now my brother-in-law and niece, not to mention the grandmas…).  We all look, sound, think and feel differently but there’s a spoken (and unspoken) bond: love.  Over the years, I’ve learned to live only in my current “life”, allowing all other things from former or “other” lives to slip into the subconscious.  I believe that probably came from toggling between homes, parents, siblings, bedrooms, parts of the country.  However, it just takes that one trip home to remind me how unnecessary that coping mechanism is at this point in my life.  As with every year, in 2011, I resolve to stay in better contact with the people who have to love me.  For whatever awkwardness I ever felt about randomly reaching out, I can now cope out with Facebook.  It’s better than nothing…

2.) Friends: Simply put I have wonderful friends.  And as much as I may not like to admit and/or adapt to it, relationships change.  The people I’ve grown to love and trust, I’ll always love and trust but we’re not always going to mean the same things to each other.  Rather than fight that reality, I’m learning to be thankful for what I had and who I shared it with.  When you stop working with someone or living with someone or regularly hanging out with someone, it can be difficult to “stay in touch”.  I’ve always done what was easy.  The people (emotionally) closest to me were often the people (physically) closest to me.  As with my family, if I truly value the relationship, I have to 1.) accept things will change and 2.) not allow something to die just because it’s no longer convenient.  In 2011, I resolve to be a good friend instead of sometimes just an easy one.

3.) Love: Most years, I don’t even mention this one.  I’ve always wanted to be in a good relationship.  But my track record was less than promising.  I accepted if/when something was meant to happen, it would simply happen.  I stopped hoping for it and, to be completely honest, being entirely open to it.   My 2 1/2 break from everything was no joke.  However, I can happily (and confidently) say, despite my best efforts, I’m in a good relationship now.  I am with someone I respect, admire, am attracted to, amused by, comforted by, and am proud to be with.  Even better, I believe he feels the same way about me.  A healthy, honest boyfriend/girlfriend, meet your family and friends, entertain the word “we” relationship.  A novel idea, I know.  In 2011, I resolve to not sabotaging “us”.

4.) Career: 2009 forced major changes in my career path.  From agency PR to unemployment to economic development in the last few months of the year.  2010 found me really understanding what that industry and my position meant.  As with any job, not everything was perfect.  But it was educational.  I feel better informed and, more importantly, more confident in my skills, both technical and interpersonal.  In 2011, I resolve to continue to move forward, whatever direction that might be.

5.) Faith: This one’s touchy for me.  Growing up a “preacher’s daughter”, church was a big part of my life.  The rules, the services, the songs, the process.  But my personal faith has always been something tied to struggles.  When things are well, I thank God out of obligation.  But I can’t say that we really talk. When things are bad, I can’t stop talking.  I know our relationship needs some work.  As much as I’d like to argue that relationship could be repaired anywhere, I think I need the either the structure or the comfort of a church family.  In 2011, I resolve to find my church home in Austin.

6.) Happiness: While the prior five components play a large part in defining my happiness, one big factor is simply being open to allowing it.  For whatever reason(s), I’ve sought to prevent my own happiness.  I don’t know if I didn’t feel I deserved or had earned it or if I was too pessimistic to trust it but I’ve been able to prevent a consistent, natural happiness with my own life.  Momentary happiness is impossible to avoid.  But that lasting, confident, easy contentment has often evaded me.  People will always be smarter, richer, prettier, “luckier”, whatever other -er you want than me.  But happier is all on me.  I have family, friends, career, faith, health and an open future.  Last year, I resolved to be happy.  While I wasn’t perfect, I think I did pretty well.  So in 2011, I resolve to be happy.  Hopefully, I can follow my own trend.

Happy New Year,

Jo’van

When I Grow Up – Pussycat Dolls

When we were all in primary school, family, teachers and friends constantly asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”.  If you were anything like me, the answer to that question changed quite drastically, quite often.  (That is if you had an answer at all…)

At my kindergarten graduation, I proudly, and much to the surprise of my mother, announced that unlike my female classmates who wanted to be doctors or ballerinas, I wanted to be a policewoman (emphasis on the woman).  By elementary school I’d moved on to a more traditional veterinarian, only to develop an allergy to cats.  During middle school, I wanted to be a pop singer.  In junior high, a criminologist.  And by college, I happily followed the degree track for public relations.

At those times in my life, my goals and decisions were based solely on perception.  I have no idea where the policewoman came from but for everything else, those careers seemed cool and were (somewhat) related to my interests.  I loved dogs so obviously I was supposed to become a vet.  Music has been a long time passion of mine and I have a pretty good singing voice (patting myself on the back) so a pop singer it was.

Due to my analytical and potentially scientific mind and far too many episodes of Law and Order and CSI, a criminologist sounded pretty cool.  The idea of being a (functional) part of the justice system and proving people wrong without having to carry a gun or put myself in any real danger sounded like a great idea to me.

Our senior year high school counselor for whatever reason suggested I consider public relations.  I understood little more than the concept of a publicist but with a little research, PR sounded like a good fit.  I studied it for four years, learned just how relative it was, felt confident I had the necessary skill sets and GOT A JOB a month after I graduated!!!  Three years of loyal service was simply not enough to keep me employed during the “Great Recession.”  Working in a non-essential industry when your clients are facing financial and employee losses is not a good place to be… LAID OFF!

A couple of months later, I was fortunate enough to land a position in economic development for a prosperous city.  And there I am.  Very interesting, right?  Ok, probably not so much but my point is I have no better idea what I want to be when I grow up now than I did in kindergarten.  The only thing that’s really changed is having a better idea of what I DON’T want to be.

I’ve worked in areas that I was “good at” but that I didn’t find all that interesting.  In other words, I could do it but didn’t really want to.  The idea of becoming an “expert” in those areas sounded like a chore, rather than a goal.  A possibility, not a passion.

This concept of becoming an expert in my job is neither to my credit nor discredit.  It’s a part of my current boss’s mantra.  She wants her staff to be more than just “good” at what we do.  She wants us to strive to be and to also be considered by other people experts in our areas.  For the sake of her/our business, that goal makes complete sense.  In an industry/job equally influenced by skill AND perception, we need to be experts on the topic or at least on the experts.  The concept being sound there are still two very important questions to ask: 1.) Can YOU become an expert in your area? and 2.) Do you WANT to?  It’s okay if you can’t say immediately say yes to either but you should be working your way toward a definitive answer.

I have a strong feeling I’m not in my final career path.  Who knows where life experiences, tv shows, personal suggestions and random encounters will take me?  All I can hope is they’ll all lead me to a place I love and want to be.  I hope to be able to do more than sufficiently answer the question.  I hope to be able to find ways to get you to ask the question just so I can answer it with more information than you knew you wanted.  :-)  To be a fountain of knowledge, however useless it might be.  I’ve started that collection of random information in relation to contemporary music.  But maybe I should work on identifying a more “realistic” or at least useful subject.  I need another passion.

Two questions for you: What are you an “expert” in and is that in any way related to your current occupation?

Jo’van

A song that actually has something to do with my post.  It’s been a while.  Aerosmith’s “Jaded”

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…or jaded.”

Jokingly a friend said that a few months ago about an expected ending to an unfortunate romantic endeavour.  While we both laughed about it, saying it out loud (or typing it as it was actually over Facebook chat) made both of us pause.  (Thanks, Lesbro.)  Sure getting hurt makes you more adept to recognizing the warning signs and being able to deal with something similar in the future (…stronger).  BUT it’s rarely a happily learnt lesson (…jaded).

Where does the old adage originate?  Was it someone trying to make another person feel better about a crappy situation?  Or worse, trying to make themselves feel better?  I also wonder what it pertained to.  Was it romantic escapades, business ventures or family drama?  And how close to killing you must something get to qualify?

Similar adages “trial by fire”, “learn from experience”,”don’t knock it ’til you try it” all teach us the same thing: to know and truly learn something (good or bad) you have to live it.  Sure, sure, I get it.  I can’t understand what it feels like to fall in love, fly thru the clouds or burn my finger on the stove until I’ve done it.  But why should we always feel the need to try everything ourselves?  In many cases, I prefer to learn from other people’s mistakes.

Having the door shut my in face both literally and metaphorically, both romantically and professionally, hurt.  There’s no better way to describe it.  Both affected my self-image and self-evaluation.  Both made me question what I was “worth”.  While these questions were temporary (because obviously I’m amazing), a hit to your psyche on that level can have lasting effects.  My skin got thicker and my drive to succeed and/or be happy strengthened.

But just because those experiences didn’t kill me, the learned life lessons were not always positive.  I may be stronger but I am also jaded.   The blinders are off and the guards are up.  Having had a boss who blamed her staff for her mistakes, I’ve learned to consider how my ass would be covered before I speak (or type) a word.  Having dated a man who tore me down to build himself up, I’ve learned to be constantly defensive and wary of any compliments.  Being shocked and disappointed by people I love and respect, I’m increasingly mistrusting of new “heroes”.  You get the point.

Being jaded is not intrinsically a bad thing.  Jaded equals smarter, protected and careful.  But jaded also equals mistrusting, skeptical, and in many cases, solitary.  The minimal trials and tribulations in my extremely privileged 26 years of life certainly haven’t come anywhere close to killing me.  But they have changed me, some for the better, some for the worse.  Do we generally ignore the latter for the sake of a saying?  Or to avoid having to say anything else about it at all?

I also wonder about the flip side.  Are there experiences that if they don’t last forever are good just to have had?  Is “it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all” the counterpart to “what doesn’t kill you”?  Why can’t we all just find comfort in knowing “this too shall pass” and be thankful we’ve experienced enough happiness to remind ourselves it’s possible and to remain open to it?  Maybe we already do and I just wanted to share my friend’s clever, yet poignant, remark…

Considering making jade my new stone of choice,

Jo’van

Recently a friend told me I had so/too many interests.  Due to my quite possible undiagnosed ADD, I don’t function well unless there are several things going on.  I need multiple projects at work, a handful of songs or poems in development, at least two books partially read on my nightstand, 500 albums on my iPod and a magazine to scan while I’m watching television.  Ok, so maybe the last one’s an exaggeration (Nothing can distract me from Law & Order: SVU), but the rest holds true.

Bored is a strong and potentially offensive word, but I get distracted easily.  There are so many random things that catch my interest and hold it for a little while.  Rather than work solely on one thing that may blow up in my face, listen to one album to the point of hating every single note or missing out on things of interest because my core of friends isn’t interested, I do my best to do it all.

I think doing it all, or at least trying it all, is great.  If something sounds interesting, try it.  As long as there aren’t potential negative lasting effects and it’s legal, I say go for it.  Hate it?  Never do it again.  Love it? Rave about it and recruit new participants for the next time.

So many of us are worried about getting out of our comfort zone that we avoid even the remotely foreign.  I am an uptight, well-spoken professional who loves Josh Groban and wineries who also sings in an r&b band, has two tattoos and wants a red Harley.  Rather than fit a ‘mold’, I’ve decided to just do what I want.

My diversity of dedications has introduced me to wide range of people and things.  I essentially have different groups of friends for different activities.  Rather than feel a need to succumb to the crowd in every situation, I find a new crowd headed in the direction I want to go for the moment.  This is not to say that I have bad or boring friends.  It’s just that not everyone likes the same things.  And until I find a group of people that like all of the same music, movies, food and activities, I do, I’ll count my blessings for being able to switch (always eventually coming back to the core).

This attitude of do and try it all comes with its drawbacks.  Sometimes you agree or sign up for too much because it’s either hard for you to keep track of everything else you’ve agreed to do or have a problem saying no because the person asking doesn’t understand everything else on your self-serve plate.  Sometimes because I tried this I also feel the need to try that, just to be fair.  But as long as I can time manage and afford to do all of the things I’m trying, I think I’m golden.

I’m either hopelessly lost or perfectly imbalanced.  But either way, I enjoy my diversity of dedications: work, music, people, food, a crazy cockapoo, tattoos, shoes, clothes, books, and the list goes on and on.

Enjoying the randomness,

Jo’van