Born into a branch of a religious cult, now known under the guise of Gracepoint Ministries/Acts2 Network, there lingers sometimes a sense of otherness that I can not seem to outpace. Despite this, I have learned that wallowing in self-pity for any situation you are in is a disservice not only to yourself, but to the people who care about you. Allow honest emotions into your life, but you wake up and play the hand you were dealt.
Gracepoint Ministries—to put it succinctly; theft in the name of religion, labor exploitation, spiritual psychosis and a side of religious abuse, please?
While growing up, I took in the steady journey of marginalized characters in books and movies to provide myself with a sense of comfort. Unbeknownst to me, I was finding solace as a child by escaping the abuse of my present life and eagerly immersing myself into what might one day look like my own journey of freedom. Unknown not just because of a relatable pining for freedom between myself and these characters, but because of the fact that I was not yet aware of the situation I was in. Due to the healing effect art has had on me, I am a proponent of the idea that art has the power to restore. If you find yourself trapped in a dynamic that is in any way harmful, you have the right to fight for yourself. If there are measures working against you, be resourceful, trust in your trust in the people around you. Ask for help. Because I know I did not get here alone, I can attest to the fact that your future self will thank you.
The processing of my relating to marginalized characters has led to my understanding that nearly any struggle against oppression can be viewed under the same umbrella. However, these are not new ideas; Kimberlé Crenshaw’s conception of intersectionality in 1989 delineated this idea incredibly well for me when I was beginning to understand this in my high school English classes. The struggle against oppression should be unifying in nature for marginalized communities, not divisive. A branch of struggle will oftentimes require our pressing attention, but no struggle is any more important than another. They are connected.
While dissent against institutionalized and structural inequality can feel daunting, being part of a system means you have a responsibility, as well as the power, to actively change it. When you bring your full identity to the table by advocating for your rights, you make a step for every aspect of yourself—a small step, albeit, but a step regardless. Our constructed notions of individuality, stoked on by everything constantly demanding our attention and the money in our pockets, hinder efforts towards the very real collective health of the interconnected communities we find ourselves part of.
Using passive aggressive intimidation in the classroom, or anywhere for that matter, is an unfortunate barrier to fostering the honest and productive exchange of ideas and identities. I have always been appreciative of my professors who allow for there to be no wrong answers—when possible, of course. To the faculty and administration, there is already a strong-held belief in your intelligence, competence and accomplishments—have the courage to believe in your students. Add your wisdom and support to the ideas of the people that have no choice but to run with the baton that you have molded.
The narrow-mindedness I sometimes find in my class experiences at Vassar leaves me to question if people stifle their real and valid opinions in order to fit in or to placate their professors. To the half hand raisers, I am always interested in what you have to say, even if it might diverge from what everyone else thinks. The shift from hegemonic modes of thinking to conscious critical thought is innately democratizing. It works towards picking apart the authoritarianism that has recently and frighteningly permeated American politics. The gradual process of deconstructing my own warped worldview has left me forever grateful to the abilities of public education. It has also left me a firm believer in the power of it. So long as it is equipped with the right tools and funding.
Moreover, while taking political theory classes at Vassar has been immensely beneficial to my understanding of the world around me, I can simultaneously recognize that politics does not always need to be shrouded in complexity. Safety and freedom do not need to be mutually exclusive. Children of all creeds and classes should be entitled to the same quality of education. Housing as a human right needs to be transformed from theory into practice. Anything that demands your utter devotion should be approached with caution; the beauty of the human condition lies in the fact that we can reflect on our personal experiences and subsequently choose what we want to believe in. The combined benefit of our collective critical thinking over time is probably not quantifiable, but I think one day we will find that it is real.
Here’s to together.