Identity Archives - Page 10 of 28

In Identity, Personal Growth, Speaking, University, Writing

Measuring Improvement

Julianne HarveyMarch 14, 2018

Measuring improvement can be challenging because it happens so slowly. But when it’s occurring in a compressed period of time, say a spring semester of university, it’s more dramatic and obvious.

I’m almost finished my two classes this term and it’s interesting to look back and see how I’ve grown and changed in both of them. My favourite class by far is Young Adult Fiction in the Creative Writing department. I’ve learned so much from my professor, the KidLit textbook and my fellow students, inquisitive budding writers who are a pleasure to spend three hours with on a Monday morning.

Then there’s my English class. It’s a first year prerequisite that every student must take, and I’m the only mature student there. Monday afternoons I’m surrounded by eighteen year olds, several of whom have strong opinions on life that are diametrically opposed to mine. It makes for interesting debate but my blood has boiled on more than one occasion.

Returning to university in the fall was daunting, but the first Creative Writing class I took was a beautiful boost to my confidence (and the A+ grade I received didn’t hurt either). My YA class is a similar experience this semester, but English has knocked me down a few pegs when it comes to my grades and my abilities.

When I come home whining about another B+ after I put so much time into an assignment or an in-class writing exercise, Jason laughs and says, “This is good for you.” I routinely tell my kids that we can’t be experts at everything and often in life we have to settle for being “good enough.” It turns out I suck at taking my own amazing advice.

Yesterday I had to hand in my second paper of three in this English class. I put many hours into this thing and I know it’s the best work I can do at this point when it comes to thesis statements, topic sentences, and formal structured academic writing. I haven’t done this kind of thing in twenty-six years and I’m definitely rusty. I think I’ve improved over the course of the semester but I won’t know until I receive my grade.

The best way I have to measure my own improvement is the difference in my attitude. I’m not angry anymore that I didn’t get a string of A’s in this class like I wanted. I’m getting the marks that are suitable for my skills at this point. As Brene Brown teaches us, we have to make peace with the messy middle. When we learn something new, we fumble around in the dark for a long while before we get any semblance of capability for the task.

I don’t have a ton of patience for my own learning journey. I want to leapfrog ahead over the awkward, uncomfortable bits, even though I spent the month of February teaching conference sessions about the value of risk-taking, going straight into the hard stuff, and modelling vulnerability and authenticity. Sigh. Ain’t it great to be human and get so many chances to practice this shit?

We are all improving, every day, but the changes tend to be so minuscule that they become hard to measure. I know I’m a stronger and more capable writer because I’m back in university. I can feel it and see it demonstrated in the work I’m creating. But I’m definitely not good at everything.

When we learn new skills, floundering comes with the territory. The only way to push through that to the golden sunrise of accomplishment is to be patient, not to quit, and in my case, to accept my B+ with pride instead of frustration.

In Culture, Identity, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships

Feminism Means Equality

Julianne HarveyFebruary 20, 2018

I had this exchange in one of my university classes this week:

Young Man: I am NOT a feminist.

Me: Do you believe in equality for men and women?

Young Man: Yes, of course, but I’m NOT a feminist.

The definition of feminism is as follows:

The doctrine advocating social, political and all other rights of women equal to those of men.

It’s not burning bras, hating on men, trying to raise women above men, or shaving your head and ranting in the town square. Feminism is equality. That’s it. Full stop. And when eighteen-year-old men become angry at the idea of calling themselves feminists, in an era where equality is being discussed everywhere you go, I become dejected and overwhelmed.

These conversations matter. Clearly, the word “feminism” carries a charge and men are afraid to be associated with it. I can’t fix this and I’m not interested in fixing it. But the word itself means equal rights for both genders and I will continue to bring this up until it becomes more widely understood.

My lovely professor approached me after class to talk about the exchange and to thank me for not escalating it. She said, “I’m really glad you spoke up to define the word ‘feminism’, even if he did appear to be upset over it.” She wanted to be sure I felt supported. I did. Support was not the issue. Having a discussion about a word where the person agrees with the concept but not the word we use for it makes me want to bang my head on a table until it bleeds.

Do we need a new word for feminism? I asked some young women in my next class this question and they said, “No. If women come up with a new word so men won’t be uncomfortable with it, the men will find a problem with the new word, too.” Fair point.

At the dinner table after my classes, I asked my eleven-year-old son William if he considers himself a feminist. He said, “Yes.” (To which Ava replied, “Of course he is. Growing up in this house, what else could he be?”). Then I asked Jason the same question and he also answered, “Yes.” When pressed on what this means, both of them said some version of equality.

Let’s have more of these discussions, equating the word “feminism” to the word “equality” as they are one and the same. You can’t say you believe in equality but you don’t believe in feminism. I know that the term can be loaded for people, I do understand that, but then let’s bring it back to the definition. If you are a man who doesn’t call himself a feminist, please consider how hard a woman has to work to even get you to understand the importance of equality, let alone fighting over the words we are using.

The road to equal rights is long and arduous. If every person helps, even just a little, we’ll move closer to the goal of a fairer and more generous world for every person. A rising tide lifts all boats and language matters. I thought this was easier for young people, but after my experience this week, I’m not so sure. As a culture, we still have a ton of work to do to close this gender gap.

In Identity, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

The Direction of Your Dreams

Julianne HarveyFebruary 6, 2018

Are you walking in the direction of your dreams? Is there an activity or a pursuit that makes your heart beat a little faster when you imagine yourself engaged in it? If so, are you moving toward this?

If not, why not? Fear? No money? Not enough time?

The older I get, the more I see that courage is what counts when going after your dreams. You don’t have to be rich, but you do have to be brave. You don’t have to be organized, but that does help when it comes to managing your time. However, anyone can learn to be organized.

Guts and perseverance are really the two biggest ingredients. JUST START. Don’t think your way into the things you want most. You have to work your way in by going after it and not taking no for an answer.

This week I’m in Edmonton, presenting four sessions at a large teachers’ convention. In 2015, I submitted three proposals to a Calgary teachers’ convention after going into Ava’s grade six class to run a fiction writing workshop. Her teacher encouraged me to submit to the district conference, even though my first instinct was, “Who in the world would want to listen to what I have to say?”

I pushed through my timidity and submitted. When I was offered contracts for February 2016 I was terrified but went with my knees knocking (it was cold but I was also nervous!) to stand up in front of a room of teachers and talk about writing and run a literary salon.

Last winter I upped my courage and submitted all over the place. I spoke at three major conferences in Alberta and this year I’m traveling every week of February to speak again. I’m less anxious this time because I know I am up to this task. I have some new material this year that I can’t wait to deliver and see how it lands as I’m considering writing a non-fiction book proposal on it.

I looked over my writing, speaking and acting goals at the beginning of this year and I realized that I am actually living out my dreams. I’m still inching away toward some of the biggest ones, for sure, but the areas I’m focused on for my career and my overall life are satisfyingly real. It’s so freeing and exciting to use your best talents in our world. And after many years of not receiving an income, to earn money for the things I’m good at and I love doing is marvellous.

How about you? What’s your big dream? Are you moving closer to it? I promise you, it’s not as far away as you might think it is.

In Books, Identity, Movies/TV, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth

Talking is not Trying

Julianne HarveyFebruary 1, 2018

I finally watched The Glass Castle and burst into tears when Jeannette says to her dad, “Talking is not trying.” It struck so close to home that something primal in me rose up to meet this simple piece of dialogue. The whole exchange vibrated with truth.

My dad died sixteen years ago this spring. I was twenty-nine. It seems so long ago now, and in other ways it still feels fresh and recent. Like Jeannette’s father in The Glass Castle, mine was an alcoholic. He also struggled with mental illness in the form of bipolar disorder.

When dad died, he was alone, estranged from his ex-wife and his three adult children. I hung in there with him longer than my siblings, but our relationship was one hell of a wild roller coaster ride. I have no doubt that he was filled with regret at the time of his passing. He longed to be healthier and more stable, but simply couldn’t find the keys to that particular combination.

Viewing the ending of The Glass Castle, when Jeannette decides to go see her dying father, was a powerful catharsis moment for me. I recognized just how far I have come in these last sixteen years to forgive my dad and actually feel grateful for the lessons I learned through my difficult relationship with him.

I can see what he gave me, through his genes but also through his behaviour. And like Jeannette, I can agree that talking is not trying, even though I can see now that my dad did try. He just wasn’t able to succeed.

The point of the line in the movie is that talk is cheap. Action is what counts and what matters. Understanding this has changed me for the better, for I expect more than words now from those I love. It’s not enough to simply have good intentions. There has to be behaviour that matches the promises and the hype. Without the actions, all you are left with is lies. And a shit-ton of resentment.

I wish now that I could sit down with my dad over a cup of coffee and tell him that I have no more hard feelings. Forgiveness for me has been a long and exhausting road, but I can see that I have made significant progress. Talking is not trying, and when I was younger I needed much more than fancy words. I needed something that he simply was not capable of providing. And now it feels good to let that go.

But it’s still okay to admit that I needed a better dad. I think I’ll long for that until the day I die, but I’ve made peace with that desire. Now I know how to get what I need, from myself and from others who are healthy, to ensure that I can actually receive real love and care. I’ve found people whose actions do match up to their words. It’s not just talk anymore. The trying makes all the difference.

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

Student

Julianne HarveyJanuary 24, 2018

I’ve just begun my second semester at Kwantlen Polytechnic University. In the fall I took a Creative Writing class and fell madly in love with the notion of myself as a student, even as a woman in my mid-forties. I proved that I could succeed, I learned so much from my professor, and I gradually became aware of my weakest areas as a writer (story structure, stakes and imagery).

Now I’m enrolled in two courses on Mondays. In the morning I’m doing a third year course in YA Fiction with the same prof from the fall term and in the afternoon I’m in a first year English requirement class every student must take.

When I get home at 4:15 on Mondays my brain is a lumpy oatmeal-like mush but my soul is fulfilled and accomplished. I can literally feel myself becoming a better writer. My skills are sharpening up and my critical thinking abilities are waking up from hibernation.

We must all challenge ourselves. If you are terrified of something, whether it’s making a fool out of yourself, public speaking, traveling to a developing country (not a shithole one, though, as any sane person knows there is no such thing because all countries have redeeming qualities), taking a class or confronting someone when they are being offensive, by all means: DO IT. The longer you wait, the more power it has over you.

A long time ago I heard my beloved Rob Bell suggest that we write the word “student” on an index card and carry it around in our pocket to remind us that we are always learning. None of us ever have life figured out. I loved this idea and carried this card around for months.

Now I am actually a student. I’m working part-time as a background performer in Vancouver’s vibrant film and TV industry and it’s fun, educational and endlessly fascinating. It also pays for my classes and textbooks. This makes me feel both proud and satisfied, like I’ve given the best of myself to my kids, my husband and my community for the last fifteen years but now, hot damn, I am also building into my own career and education. And I love it.

We always have more to learn. Increased ways to grow and fears to face head-on. My anxiety over plane travel and possible turbulence has been aided by flying weekly last winter and this one for speaking engagements at teachers’ conferences in other provinces. Thinking about what scares us does not help us to overcome. We need to actually do it in order to break its hold on us.

Every one of us is a student of life. The key is to remain open-minded with a soft heart so we can adapt to the unique challenges we face. We can’t plan for every outcome, but we can build up our confidence and resilience by trying new things and succeeding.