Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Letting My Fragrance Linger
Another prompt in the writing group posed the question:
"
Your writing prompt for today is to write about a time when you were victorious in acknowledging the beauty of you without feeling the need to prove it to anyone else. Tell us about that moment when you were tested, and insted of trying to prove to deaf ears and blank stares, the value of your worth, you subtley stated it and walked off in recognition of who you are."And so... I began my moment.
Strange...
I experienced a waking dream not too long ago. I was simply going about a morning regime of a facial when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. For some strange reason I thought back to a moment in time when I was told that I would be nothing more than a copy or a xerox girl. It was also pointed out to me that if I wanted to be in journalism it would be hard, simply because I'm a woman and even though it was unspoken, because I am Black.
That moment happened only a few years ago during my time at a Federal agency. I was introduced to this White lady who was to become an acting director of the Executive Secretariat office. During introductions, my supervisor proudly boasted to the lady of how I was a student at Howard studying journalism and how I had been on the job since high school. Without flinching or any other hesitation, the lady looked me dead in the eye from afar and said
"There aren't many females in the newsroom. You are going to be nothing but a copy girl and running errands."
The initial shock of her words didn't evoke any immediate emotions or reactions from me. I stood still for a minute not able to move. Finally, after a few seconds in time lapse I simply told her "no."
I never mentioned to her the fact that I had just completed an internship in which I had worked with a female editor of a local publication. I didn't even mention the fact that I was already published from working with that local newspaper and even working with the school's paper which has high recognition among the HBCU community and even mainstream. I held my tongue and let her think her thoughts.
To be honest, it wasn't just her. It was plenty others on the job who saw me nothing more than a low level to intermediate administrative assistant. However, she was the only one with enough "tiddy power" to say anything. I was... I am so much more. Though I never said a word. My supervisor and the few co-workers I was closest to knew it, but sometimes I wonder if they truly fully knew.
What angers me the most is how I let my emotional distress consume me. It got to the point where I almost bought into the fact that I would be nothing more than the average Federal government employee sitting behind a desk and pushing paper all day. I became bitter with everything around me. I was the "Black-woman-on-the-edge." It was when I started to feel bitter that I realized this wasn't me. I don't like the bitter feeling. I don't like to settle for average when it comes to my life. Because I'm creative I see things in colors. I can't just do Black, White, Blue or Gray. A spirit within me wouldn't rest. That spirit fought like hell. I cried a lot, I continued to write and somehow I did manage to reclaim a fiery spirit I felt I had lost or perhaps I never had at all.
It wasn't until I took a huge leap of faith and resigned last August that everyone stopped and took notice. I had sent an email to those I had gotten to know in those ten years. As eloquently as I could, I announced my resignation, spoke of the book I am working on and the documentary that I would love to follow up with and even spoke on how my future was unclear but I knew where I wanted to go and I had to have faith. The responses I received from that email were not surprising to me at all. Just about everyone I sent it to responded with,
"Tiffany, I didn't know you were into all of this. From this email I can tell that you ARE a writer!"
Who would have "thunk it" that after the fall season, a couple of temp jobs here and there, that by the brink of spring I would have the dream job or the job that I have been wishing and praying for..working with a public relations/marketing communications firm as a writer and editor. Not only that, working with a magazine that the firm publishes! Though there are some pains with this job, I still love it, because I'm growing as this publication is growing.
What's funny is the fact that as I looked at myself in the mirror that morning, I felt this sensation cover me. After staring at myself for a while I realized I was on the verge of crying. While I stood my ground in that moment in time with the White lady, just thinking about what she said made me want to cry. Imagine that, some five or four years later her words having that affect on me.
Unfortunately, she wasn't around to witness my resignation. She had become a volunteer in the "rebuilding" of Iraq and had been there for the last year. Yet, in the back of my mind I have always wanted some kind of revenge on her words. If I saw her today, I probably still wouldn't say anything to her. I would just let my actions and my accomplishments speak for me. In some way she did serve as a motivational tool for me to get myself together. Somehow I have always felt that if I failed, she would be right there laughing and going "I told you so."
I hate using the the "b-word" when talking about other females and I never liked the idea of pulling the race card so easily, but in all honesty she was a bitch, perhaps a racist bitch and I'm not using these terms lightly. I can even say that I never hated anyone, but when I think about this lady.. I feel so much pent up emotion I just don't know what to call it.
There is still a lot left in me for my fragrance to linger for a long while. this is just the beginning. I just hope that "Ms. Lady" will be able to catch a whiff of it and will stew in her own stupidity.
Posted by KomplexPhemale ::
1:08 PM ::
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
---------------oOo---------------