DB: Shagga-Blogga

On Thursday this email arrived in my inbox from a School Of the Arts Student named Patrick Johnson.

Hey Daniel,
So I’ve been working on a sort of advertisement/call for submissions for my “This I Believe” essay project and I want to know what you think. If you’re still willing to send this to the folks at Exit133 and/or the Volcano, that would be amazing.
Also, if you’re willing, I’d love to have you write an essay to be included in the exhibition.

Anyways, here’s my idea for a sort of “call to arms”, tell me what you think:

Tacoma, we want to hear from you.
We are inviting people from all walks of life in Tacoma, Washington to write a personal essay titled, “This I Believe” to be reviewed and possibly chosen to be displayed in a public exhibition at Black Water Cafe. We want to hear from the rich, the poor, the powerful and the weak. We are interested in having everyone in Tacoma heard.
Help us see the world, through your eyes.

All submissions and questions should be sent to thisibelieve.tacoma@gmail.com by May 1st, 2009

For some helpful essay writing tips, and more information regarding the history of This I Believe essays, visit: www.thisibelieve.org

Many of you may remember a call for submissions from a SOTA teacher named Kelly Doran. Apparently Patrick believes in this project so much that he picked it up and made it his. For Patrick, and for acting on his belief I am more than willing to post his request and fulfill it; in this weeks exiting installment of, “Shagga-Blogga,” the continuing story of Tacoma through an speculative creative lens.

While my “This I Believe” essay is not directly about Tacoma, I believe that Tacoma is made up of her people, ergo reading the beliefs of a Tacoma resident is reading about Tacoma. I believe that what I believe is a big part of why I have chosen to live here and what I have chosen to do here. Belief is a massive force in our culture, I would even venture to say that Tacoma’s culture is defined by our beliefs. So please bear with me … for Patrick, if not for me (and start all your comments with “I believe”. I dare you.).

I believe that my blood father accepted me. That acceptance is not what I was taught growing up. My mother told me that he left when he found out that she was pregnant. She told me that he left because of me, and that I would deal with that rejection as I grew up. I believe that his leaving had very little to do with me. I believe that my father left because it was the right thing for him to do for him and therefore the right thing for everyone involved. I believe he accepted my arrival on this planet and accepted his inability to be a father. His most righteous action of leaving cleared the way for a capable father (as if there is such a thing) to ‘step’ in. I believe that while culturally his actions were irresponsible, they were in fact the very best for him and situationally the most “responsible” thing that could be done.

His leaving was the first and most traumatic moment of my life. I was born into a world dominated by fear for survival and my mother’s own feelings of rejection rooted in her own childhood. I was born into a desperate climate that required clarity, creativity and resourcefulness, however when I was 18 months my mother remarried a “responsible” man who raised me as his own the best he knew how.

To say that my father did not reject me is to say that I am acceptable, that life itself has accepted me and my existence. To believe that I am acceptable is to believe that the world is an acceptable place to live. It says that life is valuable and I am valuable because I am alive. This belief (when I am capable of believing it) shapes every belief I have. It says that even from my birth life happened as it should. It says that mistakes are inevitable and some choices are irrevocable, but that ultimately life is reasonable, and life is good. It says that when my mother chose to die, it was good. And when my girlfriend chose law school over our relationship, or my pastor slept with all the married women in the church, it was good. To say that life is good is to exit the cage of the victim, and to take hold of my “responsibility” to choose what is right for me at any given moment. It is to allow the “bad” things that happen to be a part of my path to freedom. To say that life is good is to realize that I am alive and that I am good. From here I am free. I am free to love whom I choose, and to be what I choose (to choose to be myself). Ultimately, I am freeing others around me from the ownership and responsibility of my being.

To release my father to his best choice is to release myself from the reactionary state of the single cell organism. It is to release myself from his destiny, into my own. It is to evolve. The recession does not define my life. The value of my property does not define my life or my actions. My situation does not disappear or bend to my will, but I do, and the power I do have over this world can be made manifest.

This I believe.