Uncomfortable is Good, But...

The thought of moving to an unknown place where I will know absolutely no one is terrifying. Teaching jobs are nearly impossible to find these days. If I do find one, I have the sinking feeling it won't be here...the place where all my friends are...the place where I have my church family...the place that is home. Am I really willing to move my entire life to a new place and start over again? Honestly, no...I don't know...maybe...yes...no not really. What if the Lord told you to move? He would have to be supremely clear, and even then I think I would question it.

Maybe I should change my career field. Am I qualified enough? Would I actually be able to succeed? Will I even succeed in teaching? What if...

I hate change, everything about it. I hate how you don't have any control. I hate how it's unknown. It's uncomfortable...and I'm wondering if that's what I need. Complacency breeds contempt. Complacency is comfortable. I am comfortable in how life is, even though I am completely frustrated with where it is, it is comfortable. It is known. It's safe because it's predictable.

I don't want to be complacent! I don't want to be frustrated anymore! I want to be able to take a risk. Change something. Grow more and allow God to have the control.

But I'm terrified...

The Differences Between Us

Yesterday I was exactly the same age as my mother the day she had me - exactly one week away from turning 23. It amazes me how different our lives are at that same point. My Mom had been married for 10 months to the only man she had loved and dated, and she had just had her first child - ME. I was a complete unexpected development in their life that was even more unexpected due to the fact that I was 2 and 1/2 weeks early. The April 2nd baby turned into a March 15th baby. I do thank God, though, that I wasn't born on April fools...for sure. Haha! Due to me being in stress...probably about being born...my Mom had to be induced into labor and I was born at 11:25 am Tues March 15th.

I am no where near where my Mom was at this age. I'm not married and I don't have a bundle of joy. I always thought I would be at the same place as my Mom at 22 growing up, though. Especially when I was an early teenager, I wanted nothing more than to become someones wife and have loads of babies at a young age, like my Mom. Sitting here now, I realize there is no way I would want to get married and have children right away. Would I like to be married right now? Yeah sure. Do I want children right now? That would be a big fat no. Haha! Although I may know more than the average first Mom due to my experience in the education field and having helped my Mom with four of my five siblings, I know I am no way ready to have a child right now. My Mom didn't want children at 22 either, but she got one.

So far my life has been fairly similar to my Mom's in quite a few ways, but here is where we part in similarities. There are still some similarities that remain between us at this age, like being broke, that I don't want to remain and I know my Mom doesn't want me to have to go through as well. My Mom is an amazing person who has gone through a lot in life. Even though she never wanted children and although I came at a very unopportunistic time, I am very thankful she kept me and that she loves me and my five siblings very much. Love you Mom :-)

Colorblindness

This past week during my placement, I had an interesting conversation with one of my students. I don't remember a lot from our conversation, but there is something in particular that struck me. She had colorblindness. Now I don't mean this in the sense that she couldn't see colors, not at all. She is colorblind in the sense of skin color. While I am white, she is black. One day she came up to me and called me 'That's so Raven'. So I asked her if I looked like Raven. Her first response was yes, but then she thought about it for a second and said that I looked like Hannah Montana instead. Here is a little look at how parts of the conversation went.

Me: I don't look like Raven cause I'm too white, right?
T: No, but Raven is black.
Me: But that means I'm too white.
T: No.
Me: What are some differences between me and Raven?
(several differences were given)
T: Your hair is different.
Me: How is my hair different?
T: Well Raven always has her hair up.
Me: Oh, and isn't her hair longer than mine?
T: Yeah.

So why did I point out these particular points of the conversation? Well, this shows just how much skin color doesn't matter to this child. I kept telling her that I was white and therefore could not look like someone who is black because our skin color is so different (this was simply said to gauge what this child thought and not because it matters to me, because it doesn't really). However, this child did not see skin color as the deal breaker on whether I look like Raven or not. The hair is significant because my hair is different than hers. I was expecting her to say something about how the texture of Raven's and my hair is different. But nope, she didn't see it. It was amazing to see how a child who lives in a culture where the majority of people are the same race as her would not see the obvious differences between me, the white girl, and herself. The other reason it surprised me was because white kids would most likely tell me I didn't look like Raven because of my skin color. I know not all white kids would say this, but I have a feeling the majority would even if they didn't mean it in a mean way; skin color would be pointed out. So how come this child can't see the difference between my skin and hers, but many white children I've come into contact with would notice? I don't know.