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I must tell you; I am a little nervous. Isn’t it ridiculous that the reward for completing a post-secondary education, and excelling as a professional and individual, is to speak publicly
…the number one fear in America? Which brings me to just how ridiculous it that public speaking is the number one fear, Death is number two; followed by disease, heartbreak, and spiders.
But I think that’s just a sign of how ridiculous fear really is in and of itself.
People are more afraid of being embarrassed for just a moment, than to be inflicted by pain.
Thus, when thinking about the concept of fear, I recognize how much I have stepped outside of my comfort zone; forcing myself to try new things. I have forced myself to experience a world that was once so unfamiliar to me-to be bold and stretch past the limits.
I became cognizant of how silly fears are and how much they can control our lives.
I recognized the untruthful stories we tell ourselves and the misconceptions surrounding fear. Telling ourselves to be fearless, rather than to fear-less. The first being inaction,
the second-action. The first causes terror, the second works toward addressing fear.
Fear is a reaction–courage is a decision.
Reflecting on my childhood, I was sure that I would fail. “I wasn’t ready,” I continued to tell myself. But those were the words of the over 30 foster families that I have stayed in.
See, throughout Elementary, Middle, and some of High School,
I was moved from one place to the next. I was told I can’t, don’t, and you shouldn’t.
I was constantly reminded of the 1 in 5 foster youth who attend college with 1 in 50 graduating-instilling fear and doubt. So, at first, I did not. Further bound by the invisible chains
through the story’s others had thrusted upon me, I became self-aware, observant, and hyper-vigilant to break free from these chains. I became, did, and aspired for everything I once feared.
Now, I try to remind myself of the fears I overcame, and therefore,
how lucky to have made it out alive; tattered, wounded, and bruised, but alive.
I have realized that my past, and those who live in my past, certainly do not dictate my future.
I am grateful each day for my experiences, because it is those experiences that have shaped me into the individual I am today. I will share with you, my story, because I know that someday,
if not currently, you are going to face fears, challenges, and hardships.
These fears can allow us to stay silent on matters or issues that make our hearts burn
and minds race! I challenge you, tonight, to lean into these emotions.
I am certain every successful individual in this room would agree that success rarely comes without failure. But often, when success enters, love tends to exit.
Remember, an individual’s fear of getting ‘too’ attached or ‘caring too much’
should never supersede a child’s need for stability.
COPYRIGHT © 2021 All Rights Reserved
It was a crisp Saturday morning in Whistle Valley. The air was fresh and invigorating. Timmy Bird had awakened early. He wanted to hear the sounds of spring. Many birds were clustered about on the various branches singing their beautiful songs. Timmy began to hum. All alone he sat there enjoying an evening harmony that would last into the hours after sunset. Timmy Bird was sure he would be selected for the choir today so he arose very early and began to practice. His humming turned into a chirp and then his chirping turned into a tweet. And after a few tweets, he lifted his voice in song. As he lifted his voice and sang higher and higher he noticed that the other birds all began to fly back and secure themselves within their nests. As Timmy Bird sings louder and louder all of the creatures begin to hurry for their homes. Oh my! What is going on? What is the matter? The turtles who had just awakened crawled back into their shells. The hibernating animals all began went back into their holes as if they were going into a night of long winter sleep but it was spring! Timmy opened his eyes and realized all his friends were gone. So he ran into the house.
Timmy bird sheepishly paused for a moment when he saw Grandpa Bird staring at him with compassion and asks “what is the matter grandpa?" Smiling at Timmy, Grandpa said “Timmy you have got to look long up the road to see if the tune wagon is coming here my little son. Look down the road deep into the valley and you will see the tune wagon coming.”
On his tippy toes, Timmy stood on the highest branch looking for the tune wagon. He looked far and near continuing to sing. He figured that his singing might let the tune wagon know where grandpa was. He looked far down the road, over the verdant hill, and deep down in the valley, but there was no tune wagon insight. He looked again and again. The tune wagon must have taken a detour he thought to himself. Finally, Timmy flew back to Grandpa Bird’s side. He told him “Grandpa, I have looked up and down the road and I don’t see the tune wagon.” His grandpa was not as disappointed as Timmy thought he might be, but instead, he gave him a grandpa smile and encouraged him to try again. This time he drew him a cross and placed on it north, south, east, and west. “You must look in each direction. Look toward all four corners of the earth and if you do not find the tune wagon come back and let me know.” “Yes Grandpa, I will look everywhere,” Timmy answered. “Just in case the tune wagon tries to come softly, my son, you must not sing you can only listen.”
Being a good little bird Timmy hugged Grandpa Bird and flew away. He would look in all the places grandpa had advised. He knew he would be very quiet just in case the tune wagon tried to tiptoe upon him. Timmy bird looked in all directions soaring above the branches of the tallest trees searching for the tune again.
He would glide across the bushes not making a sound. However, search as he may, he did not find the tune wagon.
Timmy bird felt sad. He hated to go back to Grandpa and tells him that he could not find the tune wagon. He perched on the bough of an old elm tree for a moment to rest. He looked across the field and saw Queen of the Village, Grandma Owl. She was out of home and nestled on a branch.
Timmy Bird flew over with tears
rolling down his eyes. She asked, “What could possibly be the matter Timmy Bird?” Timmy Bird explained to her that he had been out on an errand that Grandpa Bird had sent him to do. She asked, “My little Timmy what could possibly be this task that leaves you in tears?” Through
his tears he said, “I have been fluttering about all morning trying to find the tune wagon that Grandpa sent me in search of but I have had no luck.”
The wise old owl bird, inquired “My dear Timmy did I hear you practicing for the Songbird’s Choir this morning?” Timmy’s eyes lit up with pride as he answered “Yes Grandma Owl, yes it was I you heard." I practiced loud until
Grandpa sent me in search of the tune wagon. May I please sing for you? May I sing? May I? Grandma Owl can I please sing you my song?” Timmy bird began to hover from side to side. He could not wait for Grandma Owl to answer so he busted out into song. And as loud as he sang that morning he sang even louder now. As he sang, he noticed a grimace in Grandma Owl’s face then she looked up high, and it puzzled him. Timmy wondered what could be happening to Grandma Owl. He abruptly brought his song to an end. He waited for her to flap her wings in a loud clap but she sat just staring in the distance silently. Timmy cried out “Grandma Owl?”
She put her wingtip feather at his mouth and said to Timmy “shush." But I am I’m looking for the tune wagon. Timmy Bird wailed. Grandma Owl reached down and gave Timmy one of the biggest hugs which inspired Timmy to continue his search for the tune wagon. She added one whisper in his ear. “You must always search low and aim high, kiss the rose bushes and the petals of the flowers. Glide over the branches of the maple trees explores the width and breadth of the stately oaks and
the muddy waters of the cypress trees. Fly between the shrubbery and the brush. You must be that whistle in the wind that warns us of the changes of all the seasons in life, not just the songs of spring.”
The day you see a bird perched alone on a limb of golden leaves in autumn think Timmy. When you see a flock of birds migrating south and that single one bringing up the rear or leading the way. It might be Timmy. If you should see a dust breeze blow a thistle and a bird appears out of nowhere think Timmy.
While you are delighting in the harmonious sound of a choir and an eager songster lifts her head or his voice high, a bit off a chord, ask “Timmy is it you?” Enjoy the rapture of a beautiful day, listen softly, and you might hear Timmy soaring high and low, still in search of the tune wagon.
Every year Timmy Bird would return to the valley and tell his many stories of all his great adventures around THE WORLD and Grandpa Bird and Grandma Owl who would listen attentively. The stories of Timmy Bird’s adventures became some of the most beautiful lyrics of the songs in
Whistle Valley.
“Be a bush if you can't be a tree. If you can't be a highway, just be a trail.
If you can't be a sun, be a star. For it isn't by size that you win or fail.
Be the best of whatever you are.”
Martin Luther King
— from speech before a group of students at Barratt Junior High School
in Philadelphia, October 26, 1967
Story taken from Rainbow in The Street Collection COPYRIGHT © 2011 All Rights Reserved
(Joumana Khatib-nytimes) Although Hazzard is best remembered for her novels “The Transit of Venus” and “The Great Fire,” her shorter pieces helped propel her to literary stardom. Read review
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(Joumana Khatib-nytimes) Krauss, the author of such novels as “Great House” and “The History of Love,” returns with a story collection that poses questions about intimacy, family and power.
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I had been totally distracted by my own Fear because I felt like an abomination. I always
had to leave part of myself out because Religion states that sexual attraction to the
same sex is an abomination. From that I internalized all those feelings, from that I
doubted my own personal power and greatness. With all the Fear, shame, and Guilt my
confidence level fell to the depths of the Hell I put myself in. I played small because I
didn’t want my light to shine and draw attention to my purple unicorn. I felt safer when
my purple unicorn was hidden away so no one could condemn me for living in my truth.
My mind became my only place of sanctuary. I wasn’t able to go to the spiritual hospital
to get help. I tried conforming my reality to fit in with my family expectations. Fear
crippled my abilities to operate in my True Self. It had me do horrible things to myself
and others that I loved. The shame and guilt made my heart freeze. It caused me many
misdeeds and scrapes. Living in a state of trauma, trying to fill the void with people and
things to soothe my wounds.
I begged God to forgive my family for not understanding. For not understanding that
ignoring the purple unicorn doesn’t make it go away. Calling it a demon and trying to
cast it out doesn’t legitimize it and isn’t helpful. My family needed to understand looking
the other way only made the seed of rejection grow. Not acknowledging the purple
unicorn actually showed that they feared what they did not or do not understand. My
family did not want their church community knowing they were contributing to their
purple unicorn child; because they feared the repercussions of the church community.
The out sight out mind mentality is very detrimental.
I took closer look at myself realized I put on that same façade that everything is okay,
because I didn’t have to accept it if I refused to look at it. I became the very thing I had
run from. But I had to realize, Love is the Answer. Love is the most magical force in the
world. Love can light up your life and make the anger and pain dissipate. I had to reclaim
my Power and Truth. Embrace my Purple unicorn to silence the voices in my head. I had
to find peace inside myself and spirit. I realized that in Myself, I found God. I had to
realize the Power I had inside myself. I thank to God for restoring the Peace inside of me
and in my Bloodline.
COPYRIGHT © 2021 All Rights Reserved
Photo: Getty Images | nytimes--February 10, 2022
RECITATIF A Story by Toni Morrison
It’s a term I invented, while watching the late, great Toni Morrison masterfully take down her critics: “The Morrisonian Moment.”
My favorite of these instances took place during a 1998 interview with Charlie Rose, who verbally poked Morrison — at least, it appeared that way to me — with questions about race. Specifically, why did it annoy her so much when journalists asked, when would she... Read more
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