Eventually that identity marker became confused with achievement, and simultaneously (I think) achievement that was simply at normal levels became subpar. Over-achievers were the only people worth knowing, or teaching, I'm not clear on the intricacies of valuation in education, but over-achieving was important. I didn't have anything else going for me, so I tried that hat on.
Now I think it's important to mention I wore it well. Not only "now" in this writing, but now in this "stage" of my life, marked loosely from halfway through my freshman year of college to some vague point in the future. Because from every social evaluation I can identify in society's consciousness, I'm a failure. I can feel my inferiority, my worthlessness. I feel it pressing against me in most social interactions. It might be every single social interaction, I can feel it pressing me down and compressing me; my lungs, my ears. Sometimes I lash back: "I was valedictorian, you know?" National Merit Scholar, President of the National Honor Society, I was in the Marching Band for four years (clarinet section leader), my debate team won state.
I did everything anyone could have asked. I sought out leadership and volunteer opportunities, and I had an impressive resume. But part of this process was filling out applications that asked what my hobbies were.
I never had hobbies. Now it seems like a creepy and invasive question to ask children. It seems the most explicit question regarding parents involvement. "What did your parents have the resources and motivation to encourage you to do in your free time apart from those things that the dominant culture more pervasively encourages, like mainstream sports and television?" Eventually sports became an arena for me to unfavorably compare my gender expression, so all I had was television. Mostly, my free time was television.
Up until about last week, I was really embarrassed about that. Now I think it gave me a more nuanced appreciation of story telling and made me a good listener.
Crumbling in college, when all of the neoliberal phantoms that moved me through my days began to drown, I kinda started finding myself. I think some legitimate hobbies cropped up from that process.
I don't like fashion. Eric mentioned, "Oh yeah, I forgot you were into fashion". He said nice things after that, but mostly I was uncomfortable because I didn't have anything behind that identity marker if he were to press. I'm not interested in fashion, but I'm fascinated by clothing. Clothing as artistic expression in our everyday presentation to the world. Marked, almost violently, by class, race, and gender. And definitely violently marked by imperialism and capitalism; most of our clothes are made in sweatshops. I want to investigate the possibility of nonviolence in what we wear. I want to sew and construct my own clothes. I want to apprentice with a tailor.
I think while quilters are definitely marked by violence, I think quilts, in their construction, appreciation, and circulation are the most nonviolent of all artistic mediums. I want to think about the veracity of that statement. I want to experience that world. I want to make quilts.
I made bread yesterday. Flour, yeast, oven: bread. It was rewarding. I think I'm beginning to develop hobbies.
I don't have any money with which to experience these hobbies though. I need to learn how to get a job.
