I'm in the process of writing a post called Fracture, that will serve as a superficial documentation of the Soul-fracturing I had to do in order to make it through this very racist and hateful workplace I have finally left behind. And I've been trying to go to bed for the past two hours and am failing miserably. I need something to tide me over until Fracture is complete. A prelude of sorts.
During the long work hours, I started playing something I liked to call The Acrostics Game. Depending on the situation (and my mood), I'd choose a letter from the name of a person involved to describe the mood, theme or situation that arose.
This is the acrostic I made up to describe myself during the past three months of my Summer employment:
A is for abrasive or asshole
U is for unforgiving
R is for rude
I is for I-don't-give-a-shit
E is for extroverted
N is for nasty
Now that that particularly horrible phase of my Summer has ended, I'm working on reclaiming and redefining myself.
A is for attentive, and affectionate
U is for understanding
R is for responsible--something about being the first born kid has this rooted in my Soul
I is for introvert. It's also for intentional; I try hard to be mindful of the consequences of my actions, for better or for worse
E is for educating, myself and others
N is for nice and nurturing
Being a Gemini has its perks, cause it was easy to become a monster. Now the real trial is becoming human again....
13 September 2012
04 September 2012
A Glimpse of My primary & Secondary Education
Educational racism doesn't exist, they say. Every child has the same opportunities. Every child is encouraged to reach their full potential. This is a glimpse into the discrimination I faced coming up through the (mostly) Orange County Public School system.
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I remember being in Kindergarten and being placed in a remedial reading group. I was an avid reader, even then. My mother didn't know what the school had done until I was well into my teens.
I remember being in 3rd grade and having to take an assessment test because we'd been traveling for a year and the school system wanted to hold me back a grade. I tested two grade levels higher than average.
I remember being in 4th grade and transferring from my predominantly Black, low-income school to a white middle-class area. I walked into the classroom and was given a worksheet to practise my '0' times tables. During third grade, we were doing long division with dividends in the thousands.
I remember being in 5th grade and being pulled aside after a reading comprehension assessment to be told I had a 12th grade reading level. This was after being made to take the test twice because they didn't believe the results the first time.
I remember being in 8th grade and my science teacher telling me I wasn't 'mature enough' to take Biology in high school, and instead placed me in Earth/Space Science, despite my 'A' average the entire school year.
I remember being in high school and having my counselors actively give me hard time for wanting to sign up for Honors classes. AP lessons were never mentioned.
I remember my high school counselor encouraging me to apply to the local community college because she didn't think I would be accepted to a 4-year university. I was accepted to four four of the five universities I applied for, including Princeton (which I didn't).
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I remember being in Kindergarten and being placed in a remedial reading group. I was an avid reader, even then. My mother didn't know what the school had done until I was well into my teens.
I remember being in 3rd grade and having to take an assessment test because we'd been traveling for a year and the school system wanted to hold me back a grade. I tested two grade levels higher than average.
I remember being in 4th grade and transferring from my predominantly Black, low-income school to a white middle-class area. I walked into the classroom and was given a worksheet to practise my '0' times tables. During third grade, we were doing long division with dividends in the thousands.
I remember being in 5th grade and being pulled aside after a reading comprehension assessment to be told I had a 12th grade reading level. This was after being made to take the test twice because they didn't believe the results the first time.
I remember being in 8th grade and my science teacher telling me I wasn't 'mature enough' to take Biology in high school, and instead placed me in Earth/Space Science, despite my 'A' average the entire school year.
I remember being placed into technical preparatory classes in high school... until my GPA forced them to place me on an academic track.
I remember being in high school and having my counselors actively give me hard time for wanting to sign up for Honors classes. AP lessons were never mentioned.
I remember my high school counselor encouraging me to apply to the local community college because she didn't think I would be accepted to a 4-year university. I was accepted to four four of the five universities I applied for, including Princeton (which I didn't).
02 September 2012
The Name Game
Hi, my name is Aurien, but you can call me Auri.
This is not my birth name.
When you ask me my birth name, it makes me incredibly uncomfortable and hostile. To me, my birth name is for someone who is not me, kind of like an old childhood friend who I used to know. I don't associate with that person anymore, except for those late, late nights of faith-seeking with close, personal friends.
When you ask me my birth name, I feel super invalidated, because it's as if the person I am today and the name I have chosen for myself don't matter over the name my mother chose for me.
When you ask me my birth name, I feel like you're phishing for information that is not relevant to you. People make assumptions based on that name and oftentimes feel entitled to use it, even when I have told them what I prefer to be called.
When you ask me my birth name, I will choose to decline to answer. Please excuse the sneer; there's a lot of baggage that goes with my birth name. Baggage I am slowly unpacking so that I can travel more swiftly down the path towards my bright future.
To be on the safe side--and to avoid the massive shade I will throw you--don't ask me my birth name. Instead, you can ask about my latest baking adventure, where I grew up, or what type of art I like to create.
And if you have known me by my birth name, please do not use it without my express permission. Doing otherwise could result in a dissolution of our relationship.
This is not my birth name.
When you ask me my birth name, it makes me incredibly uncomfortable and hostile. To me, my birth name is for someone who is not me, kind of like an old childhood friend who I used to know. I don't associate with that person anymore, except for those late, late nights of faith-seeking with close, personal friends.
When you ask me my birth name, I feel super invalidated, because it's as if the person I am today and the name I have chosen for myself don't matter over the name my mother chose for me.
When you ask me my birth name, I feel like you're phishing for information that is not relevant to you. People make assumptions based on that name and oftentimes feel entitled to use it, even when I have told them what I prefer to be called.
When you ask me my birth name, I will choose to decline to answer. Please excuse the sneer; there's a lot of baggage that goes with my birth name. Baggage I am slowly unpacking so that I can travel more swiftly down the path towards my bright future.
To be on the safe side--and to avoid the massive shade I will throw you--don't ask me my birth name. Instead, you can ask about my latest baking adventure, where I grew up, or what type of art I like to create.
And if you have known me by my birth name, please do not use it without my express permission. Doing otherwise could result in a dissolution of our relationship.
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