One of the guidelines when we do circles in our class or staff meetings is “trust that you will know what to say” That one has always been hard for me. I am an introverted, anxious person. So I think. I rehearse. I do the opposite of what I am supposed to be doing, listening. I look around the room and I wonder how many other people sitting in the circle are feeling the same. But, what I have learned is, what circle you are in matters. If you feel safe, if you feel respected, if you feel accepted, if you feel seen, then you can actually live by that guideline. Only then.

 

So I am trusting today, in this teachers as writers community, that I will know what to say, to type, to share. 

 

I have always had a hard time with Brene Brown and her talk on vulnerability. The first time I saw her Ted Talk was over a decade ago. I sat in a darkened room at a school meeting on diversity, equity and inclusion. I remember thinking, “This is bullshit.” Tears welled in my eyes and I struggled to hear her message and square it with my lived reality. Sure, some people can be vulnerable, I thought to myself. Certain people. The school also had a motto, “Bring your whole self.”  Sounded good. Sure, in principle, I believe in it. But if you are a person of color, LGBTQ, neurodivergent  or part of any marginalized community, you learn much earlier, the opposite. Hide parts of who you are. Armor up by not putting yourself in vulnerable, unsafe situations. Mask the parts of yourself that make others uncomfortable. I remember looking around the room to see if others were buying this message. I couldn’t tell so I stopped going to those meetings. 

 

Open any newspaper today and you will find at least one, probably many articles about how communities are legislating the antithesis of these positive, affirming messages. Book bans by any writer in a marginalized community, uproar over the new AP African American History courses, ending all gender affirming care, teaching social and emotional curriculum, and on and on and on. It all makes me sick to my stomach. So I stopped reading the newspapers. 

 

I actually like Bene Brown. I still listen to her podcasts regularly on my long walks through the city. I find hope in them. But I also wonder how to square her message with the world reflecting back at me. So I find hope, in small places. This writing group. My school. My friends. My family. Young people. This is the safe place to bring your whole self. To be vulnerable.