This is gonna be uncomfortable.
Let's do it together. I'm the worst at healthy-body-image talks. I like to consider myself an educator: Spending most of my months in a classroom or in a position of guidance, I want to be the kind of person other people feel comfortable confiding in. Problem is, I'm good at certain types of advice. I've worked hard to become vocal. As a child, I struggled to be heard and, as part of my 'freedom-initiative,' I moved to NYC and found a voice of my own. Now I have a tendency to speak my mind, sometimes too quickly. I want to teach my students that their voices matter and, like my mother always said "The squeaky wheel gets the grease." The tapes that play in our heads are almost as loud as other people's voices. Almost. But I'm convinced we can learn to drown them out. I think being heard is invaluable (and as a person born half deaf, I know). So I hope to help meld a generation of students who are proud of who they are and unafraid to grow. As long as that growth is vertical. Progressive. Not horizontal. I'm really terrible at those conversations. My closest friends know that I don't do food well. I attempt to promote healthy-eating. I like kale. I really like cupcakes (non-sequitor) but working so closely with students really affects your perspective. Especially when you're surrounded by adolescents who all have very different body images. Or babysitting young girls. Listening to them talk about their bodies puts the vernacular into a new perspective. I can't make comments about food or diet restrictions and even exercise becomes somewhat taboo, when tinier ears are involved. I don't want to taint those tiny ears. I think that's where the problem begins: We don't know something is wrong with us until we hear it somewhere. Like profanities. Secrets. Reprimands. The tapes that play in our heads are almost as loud as other people's voices. Almost. But I'm convinced we can learn to drown them out. The other day, I was talking about eating disorders with one of of my students. Because every teenager knows another teenage with an eating disorder, or knows the struggle on a personal level. And the thing I've come to find is that no one really ever knows what to say. But we all keep trying to say the right thing. Or, better yet, the not-wrong-thing. Which is easier than the right thing but not by much. I like to think I have the words. I used to read dictionaries and paint synonyms on my tongue, when I learned I could not draw. But I don't always. Especially not when the words are ones I haven't really learned how to tell myself yet. But I'm trying. To say the not-wrong-thing until maybe it sounds right. And maybe that's enough. Maybe doing everything right doesn't always have to be the goal. I just might keep my clavicle envy, somewhere in arms reach. But there's probably a cupcake not too far away. The tapes that play in our heads are almost as loud as other people's voices. Almost. But I'm convinced we can learn to drown them out.
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This is Me:Hi! I'm Melissa. I'm the girl with her hands in her journal. Married to my best friend and planning a lifetime of adventure! Archives
June 2023
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