Escaping My Bubble

And Entering A New One

My life has changed dramatically since I went back to school in August. It’s only been 6 weeks, but everything feels new and different. My days have a new rhythm, my sense of purpose and mood have both improved, and my relationships feel different, too. I’m so glad to have the opportunity to make such a huge change at this stage of my life. Even painting my nails light blue adds to this utterly new feeling.

Before I get into all the changes in my life, I want to address a few changes to this newsletter/site. First, I paused all paid subscriptions. I truly appreciate those who’ve supported my work with real money, but I don’t want to keep taking it without giving you what you signed up for. So I’m pausing those, and if you paid the yearly rate up front and are feeling disappointed, I will happily refund you. Just reach out.

Second, I took down my Help with Grief website. So if you’ve recently referred someone there, let me know. I’m happy to keep helping people who need some guidance or support with the grieving process, especially younger people and their families, but I couldn’t justify keeping the website going as my life veers in this new direction.

This newsletter takes more time than I have at the moment, so I’m going to shoot for once a month instead of twice. Every minute that I’m not in class, interning, or doing homework is precious time spent eating, sleeping, exercising, or with loved ones. I am always behind on homework because there is always more to read! Always more to learn.

For many years, my “bubble” consisted of my family, neighbors, coworkers, and friends who, for the most part, had the same political views and similar economic and racial privileges as I. Suddenly, at school and at work, I stand out as white, older, and wealthier, compared to my peers and colleagues. It is a loud wakeup call to the countless privileges I’ve enjoyed all my life.

As I study the history of social work, the basics of human behavior, and diversity and equity in social work, I’m constantly reminded of that privilege and challenged to account for it. Most of my new friends at school are much younger people of color who’ve all fought harder than I have for the right to an education. But we’re all entering a profession because we want to help others succeed in a society that idealizes itself as (but fails to be) built for equality. It is humbling, to say the least.

My favorite days are when I’m on campus with my cohort, having lively discussions about oppression and privilege, power structures and racism, the failures of capitalism and democracy. I was telling my partner today that talking about these things all day gives one the illusion that you’re actually doing something about them, which is a great antedote to reading the news.

And it is great to be stepping outside my bubble, at least while I’m at school or at my internship, but I’m also aware that I’m stepping into another bubble. This one is all about action and ideals, wanting to make real change in the world while also helping individuals deal with obstacles. It’s a place of liberalism and revolutionary spirit, born of generational trauma and oppression. It’s a place of hope and also frustration as we watch the recent proliferation of anti-racist education and equity and inclusion policies being supplanted now by banned books, anti-trans legislation, and the blatantly racist detention and deportation of innocent people with brown skin.

When I’m not at school, I’m interning at a public high school, trying to put all this learning into practice. I’m supporting students with multiple challenges, trying to help them get the most out of the education they’re entitled to. Having worked as an art teacher in public schools for years, I know how dedicated the staff are to the success and well-being of the students, and it’s an honor to be part of the counseling team.

At the high school, I’ve been able to incorporate some of my art teacher experience, which is really fun. I ran a lunchtime painting workshop where students were invited to paint a self-portrait using trees as a metaphor for strength and stillness. As the students painted, we identified the things that keep them rooted, what gives them strength to stand tall, and how they’re branching out into their lives.

I can’t explain why I feel so happy. It could be the daily routine of having to show up and follow instructions after years of being my own boss. Or maybe it’s simply being busy. Of course, feeling excited about the work I’m doing is a big part of it. All I know is that the things that used to annoy or concern me every day have melted away. Being in school and busy with work leaves me no time to ruminate on the news, my family, or my social life. I have to assume everyone is fine without me worrying about them, and that alone is a tremendous relief I didn’t know I needed.