I Secretly Wish...(long post)

When I was younger, it was all about making a statement. Telling off the world and basically challenging the status quo. I was all about making an impact. I did this with the way I dressed, my hair, who I hung out with, the music I listened to, my journaling. I secretly wanted to move to San Fran and then NYC to experience what it was like to stand up for something I thought was right.

When I was 14 I was the editor of Tomahawk News, Edgewood Jr High's newspaper. I wrote an article on teen sex and abortion rates. I was also a member of the local 5000 member baptist church down the road. I felt it was a problem. I felt like the Sex Education in my school was non-existant, because it was. And I felt like my church was manipulating women into believing things that were wrong. Needless to say I was sent to the Dean and then the Principal. And while they agreed with me, they didn't believe that those types of articles belonged in an educational institution. So I gave them an ultimatum; take the article out and I quit.

I quit. I was astonished and I felt let down by the very institution that was supposed to be giving me the tools so that I could make decisions in my life that were healthy. I decided to stage a protest. I made a sign that said, Freedom of Speech only exists outside these walls. I was too chicken to actually protest. I was chicken because we were poor and I didn't need my single mother to worry about anything else that I had done. I became solemn the last year of my life there and then moved to a completely different school where I knew 10 people.

Then there was highschool. My junior year, I joined the key-club. And to this day I still don't know what we did. But Thanksgiving that year, I worked at a grocery store and asked my manager if he would donate some food to a project that we were working on. He donated almost $5000 in food. We delivered the baskets during school to families in need within my neighborhood (I still live in that neighborhood). And I got in trouble. Almost expelled. Almost suspended because I shot my mouth of to a dean. I accused her of being racist. She was a black woman. I accused her of favoritism. I accused her of many things which she did not like at all. But I won. I never got suspended or expelled. I held my ground and did not give up. I still don't know why I got in trouble, but I will tell you that I never felt so good about it in my entire life.

I secretly wish I could still do that. I wish I could look someone in the face and tell them exactly what I think of them. But things get complicated when you get older. The first thing that comes to mind is the outcome and the consequences of our actions. If I tell someone off at work, it will come back to my manager and then ultimately make me look bad. If I tell off a parent who is profusely beating their child in public, I'm told to mind my own business and not tell them how to discipline thier child. If I see a 12 year old look like she's ready to be pimped out, I'm told off by her mother. If I make negative comments toward my state and national representatives, I am afraid they will revoke my husbands greencard and send him back to the UK.

Man, that is one fuct up life.

I have started to fall in love with protest art again. While I think that scrapbooking and jewelry making and ATC swapping are great and I enjoy each aspect of them, I have to ask myself - is it art or is it a consumable. What is art? A former friend once told me Art is anything the invokes an emotion. But I have to disagree now. I think art is something that makes a statement, whether it is about the artist or about current events or about pop culture etc, it is something that says something. Hence the saying, a painting is worth a thousand words.

I'm not ready to go renegade. But I'm ready to start making noise again.

There she goes, there she goes again...

Edited 06/07/07 8:57pm
Just because I questioned if certain projects were art or consumables, doesn't mean I still don't like to do them. PS What if they are creatives, oooh that's another way to look at it still!
-J.