Where am I?

Sometimes I wonder if I’m where I’m supposed to be.  If some kind of revolving karma stick has smacked me in the back of the head and sent me plummeting into the wrong section of existence.  I mean, come on, I’m just a few weeks away from being 50 years old, I’m a senior in college and almost a senior citizen, I live in a dorm (call it non traditional student housing if you want to it’s still a dorm) I’m struggling to grasp the concept of algebra and floundering…am I in the right place? Should I even be here?  I ask myself that question every day as I struggle not to choke out the roommate with whom I share the bathroom, as she leaves her hair bleaching accoutrements all over the bathroom, and doesn’t clean up behind her self and thinks that everything has to go her way including the way the toilet paper goes on the roll (she’s over, I’m under it’s a constant struggle).  I ask myself if I’ve lost my mind living here, trying to do this at my age.  I could go back fulltime on my job move into another apartment and go back to what most people consider normal right?  And then I have moments like I had last night.  Where I’m sitting in the multicultural part of the student union with a group of 5 girls who are forming a fledgling poetry troupe and we begin to discuss life and before we know it there are girls all over the place coming from behind walls and other sections of the center and they are asking me questions and we are sharing stories and I’m sharing what I’ve learned from my experience as an almost 50-year-old woman and we began to discuss things that matter and time goes and before we know it we’ve been there for 2 hours and I realize, YES!  I am where I’m supposed to be, doing what I’m supposed to do.  And I was reminded of a discussion we had in my Literature of the African Diaspora class.  We talked about how Cedric the Entertainer said that Big Mama was gone.  That mothers are young and that the person who, traditionally has held black families together has been the Grandmother, or Big Mama, not like the caricature that Martin Lawrence brought to the screen, but a strong, knowledgable and wise older woman who always had a kind word for everyone, a good hot meal and some sound advice.  One of my classmates said to the professor, “Didi is that for me.  I’m away from home and She’s like Big Mama for me.  She looks out for everybody and makes them feel loved.”  So yeah, I’m where I’m supposed to be.  Interacting with women younger than my own daughters, sharing what I know and who I am with them and listening to them and trying to help them become who they were meant to be.  My instructor from the literature class said to me in an email “You should be on the other side of the classroom desk.  Our educational system needs you. ”  Perhaps he’s right, but for now, I’m glad to know that I’m right where I’m supposed to be, doing what I’m supposed to be doing.  It’s a good feeling.
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~ by Diva2de on January 24, 2013.

2 Responses to “Where am I?”

  1. Awesome story. Stay strong and keep reaching for your dreams!

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