I’m better at social interaction than I would have guessed. As I mentioned previously, both of my classes are heavy on discussions, speaking, and interaction. This gives me more than a little bit of anxiety (I have chronic social anxiety, for those unaware).
But, you probably wouldn’t have guessed yesterday.
I talked in class. I asked questions and answered questions and gave opinions. It was like a was a cognitively functional individual, instead of a quivering mass of Fear Jelly.
Especially in my English class. The topic we’re currently thinking critically on is cultural appropriation. Now, guys, I’m pretty damn white. My opinion on cultural appropriation is basically, “It’s not something I have to deal with, so who am I to tell a non-white person how they should feel about things typically associated with their culture?” Basically, I never saw what the big deal was, but I’m also aware that my race kind of makes me totally blind to the big deal, so I just generally try to take POC’s word for it.
As a white person, I always assumed I wasn’t subject to cultural appropriation–to appropriate something requires a power discrepancy. What I did not consider is religion as a culture. I’ve always considered religion as part of culture, but it wasn’t until yesterday I realized that religion is a culture, unto itself.
And, as a Pagan Witch, oh, my people have definitely been appropriated from. By the Christians (see: every major holiday). So, that was an interesting realization. That bitter annoyance I feel every time someone says, “But, I thought you’re a Witch and don’t celebrate Christmas?” every time I buy/make Yule gifts? That’s how black people feel every time they see a Kardashian.
Cultural appropriation applies to religion. Who knew.
So, I contributed to that discussion, even though it gave me anxiety to do so. I’m still white. I still didn’t want to throw around some ignorant, privileged bullshit (although, I think one of my comments might have been misconstrued, but oh well, it happens; I’m still breathing, so it doesn’t bother me as much now).
And then, in my communications class, I told the story about how one of my high school boyfriends dumped me via voicemail (although, in class, I accidentally said text message and didn’t bother correcting, because it wasn’t that relevant) and how much angrier it made me than if he’d done it face-to-face.
It was weird, talking so much in class. But, gotta earn those participation points, right? At least I know I can do it and survive, so after this first week I’m slightly more confident in my abilities.
Although, we do have a group project, like for part of our actual grade, in English. I’m not looking forward to that–I hate group projects, because I’m stubborn and hate compromising, especially when the outcome affects my grade. But, c’est la vie.
I love you all.