An Open Letter

Dear ten-year-old girl who said before praying, "It's not going to be good. I don't know how to do it":
Dear high-schoolers who are intellectual and introspective in a town of people who are just trying to get by:
Dear women who act ditzy when you are smarter than most people around you:

I am sorry that when I was in third grade I said my favorite school subjects were P.E. and lunch when in fact I loved reading and social studies and science. I knew already that it wasn't cool to be smart or even to be interested in school. Because I didn't own it, you're having a harder time knowing how powerful and intelligent and worthy you are. And you are. It's OK if you like P.E. and lunch. It's OK if you like reading and social studies and science. It's OK if you like history. It's OK if you like your teachers. It's OK if you like school. It's OK if you don't.

I am sorry for the time in high school when, giving an example about spending money, I said, "Like if you buy a book--I mean, not that I would buy a book--a CD or something...." When in fact I loved books so much, and still do. I betrayed myself and you, I betrayed all of us. I reached through the years and put out my hand to hold you down. We all did. We all do.

I am sorry for not wearing my patchwork hippie shirt for about five years in high school and college because it made me stand out too much. I was complicit in creating a culture where people are not rewarded for standing out, no matter how much it is spoken of as a good thing. I was playing the game of fitting in. Please know: it's so overrated. The rules keep changing and nothing but luck can win it. That shirt got so many compliments when I brought it out of hiding. Fitting in is fine if what you want happens to be what many others want, but it can happen by coincidence, as a result of other choices, not as a reason for them.

This is not a letter about guilt. Feeling sorry doesn't always mean feeling guilty. I was acting based on what I understood and wanted at those times. I don't want anyone else to feel guilty about what they have chosen in the past, especially when they were very young. No, this is a letter about freedom. A letter about light. Awareness. Recognition. Support, strength, empowerment. This is a letter about learning from the way my life is shaped by others, trying to push back gently and encourage others to do the same. Here we are, simmering in our individual pots of shame and fear. Let's remember we're all here, and everyone is so different with different reasons for different choices, but we can start by peeking over the top of the pot to see who else is simmering nearby. Then we can pull ourselves up--a huge effort, not for the faint of heart, but luckily none of us are faint of heart. Then we can sit on the sides of the pots and talk, cooling ourselves in the air. When one person falls in, the others can reach out and pull them, or jump in and buoy them. But no one has to keep simmering forever. I invite you to start getting ready for the climb out. The water makes it harder because it offers resistance, but that means you will build muscle so much more quickly.

Love,
Rachel