Skip to main content

On the acquiring of knowledge...

     Since I started my Masters program in Arts Politics at NYU, so many people, even my loved ones, have been questioning my pursuit of such degree. They asks: "What are you going to do with that degree? "What are your plans afterwords?" I've learned to disregard other people's inquisitions on the validity of my life choices, specifically my academic and professional pursuits. "What am I going to do with my new degree?" I don't know. Be smarter? "Is my degree necessary?" It's necessary for ME, even if it isn't perceived to be necessary for the world. Often, people like to question my academic pursuits, as if elevating my intelligence is not reason enough. I'm so glad I believe in the exponential and infinite possibilities of my being or else I would dwell in a place of predicted ignorance and mediocrity that is not fit for my expansive nature. 

To be personal for a moment...
     In my experience, black people's general discomfort with academia stems from historic colonialism, systemic segregation and categorization that pushed our people into the learning of trades instead of the pursuit of intellectual freedom and the possibility of infinite expansion of the mind. "Get a good government job" is what our parents were taught--not a job that captured the full potential of our brains but a job that focused on monotonous skill and limited upward mobility. But as I delve into my dreams and seek greater understandings of purpose and freedom, I drift further away from the acknowledgement of others' discomfort with the infinite status of my ever-evolving brain. I aim to break away from the evidentialism of the pursuit of knowledge. "What am I going to do with my Arts degree(s)?" The same thing you're going to do with that law degree that you don't really want or need but that you chose to acquire after not knowing exactly what you wanted to do with your life. "Is my Arts degree(s) necessary?" As necessary as your business degree that led you to manage (I mean delegate in) a highly reputable marketing firm in which you spend most of your time dining with, and on the dime of, potential clients at Capitol Grille and Cipriani's. 

     With my acquiring and expansion of knowledge, I plan on living my life fuller and wider, without thought of proofs or receipts that are to justify my M.A., B.F.A, or possible Ph.D or M.Div. I am the embodiment of infinite possibilities, possibilities that are both proof of and a catalyst for my aptitudes and attitudes. This past year has taught me so much about perseverance and deliverance, but most importantly, it has taught me about definition. How do you define your life path and life choices without the interference of the view points of the world, your colleagues, your closest friends and family? I no longer feel the urge to explain or fit into the scripted roadmap of a society that has lost its intuitive creativity. The definition of my present and future is not dependent on previous blueprints that do not represent the fullness of my intellectual and spiritual capacity. The definition is in my being and not in the words that surround and sometimes falsify and exploit my visible pursuits. 

My degrees are not a formula; they are merely a factor, maybe even a variable, in an ever evolving equation of my very unique life. 




Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"Where Do You See Yourself in 5 Years?"

Today (December 1st, 2020), Facebook reminded me that 5 years ago, I wrapped up a 5-week run of Ain't Misbehavin' at Portland Center Stage in Oregon, and flew back to New York City to re-enter my life there. I had just applied to seminary a few days before Thanksgiving and was excited about the possibility of leaning into this strong calling I felt to deepen my theological knowledge. I was still under the illusion that I'd be able to maintain some sort of performance career, so I kept my manager, Greg, and he'd continue sending me out on auditions. I was becoming very picky about what I'd say "yes" to-- Would I go on that national tour of Hamilton that he wanted to send me on or would I go to seminary? Would I leave to do a 9-month stint in After Midnight on an international cruise ship or would I go to seminary?  That was the question over and over again. I decided that I'd still do local stuff in NYC or short stints in other cities. Even as I ente
Post a Comment
Read more

Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake

  Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake At the time of my writing this, I am sitting in my big chair, staring at my front window from inside the house, looking at the drippings that have stained the glass from the eggs that some neighborhood kids hurled at my window almost two weeks ago. They were mad at me (I suppose) because they came to steal another package off my front porch in December, but they did not know that it was a package I’d planted with a note inside. I had them on camera stealing several packages on my block during the winter break, including one of mine that contained dog food (I know they were disappointed when they opened that one up ha!). Instead of calling the police or posting their faces on the many neighborhood apps, I decided to take an old amazon box, place a note inside, retape it and leave it on the porch. The note read: “God loves you. I care about you. Stop stealing packages. -Pastor Mac.” I wanted these 3 kids who look like they ar
Post a Comment
Read more

Why I Quit Church...

On Sunday I quit church... for the day, at least. It was the most beautiful and painfully passionate act of self-care I've ever done.   Hi. My name is Mia, and I live with an anxiety disorder.  It's 4:30 on Sunday morning. My first alarm intrudes on the three hours of sleep I've managed to acquire. I begrudgingly assess the state of my vocal cords and decide whether or not they are well enough for me to sleep another thirty minutes. I hit snooze. Minutes later, my second alarm assaults my rem cycle. I pimp-slap my iPhone and decide whether or not I'm going to steam (a process in which I stand over a pot of boiling water for fifteen minutes to lubricate my cords). I, instead, opt for the less time consuming process of making tea, buying me an extra fifteen minutes of sleep. at 5:15, my third and final alarm goes off. I roll out of bed and into the shower. As I lather, I do minor vocal warm-ups and meditate. It's 6:05. I'm clothed, tea is made, hair is done,
7 comments
Read more