By: Shia Iris
www.shilairis.wordpress.com
This is the abridged version of a story I once told. Let me know what you think.
Don’t be intimidated by the length of this article. It’s worth reading.
I grew up in a household where conditions were tough. I had 6 siblings (same parents) and we all had completely different personalities and ways of thinking. My mother was a stay at home parent for most of my life and was only forced to leave the household in search of a job after my father’s “cool” 1980’s drug habit started to get the best of him in the 90s. How he maintained a separate social lifestyle with 6 children and a wife under his belt for so many years, I don’t know. Now I know that my mother always knew and tried to fight it with him, but I didn’t know until I was nearly 13 years old. Apparently he had been using for my entire life and longer. I still cherished my dad because despite his pitfalls, he was always very cool.
www.shilairis.wordpress.com
This is the abridged version of a story I once told. Let me know what you think.
Don’t be intimidated by the length of this article. It’s worth reading.
I grew up in a household where conditions were tough. I had 6 siblings (same parents) and we all had completely different personalities and ways of thinking. My mother was a stay at home parent for most of my life and was only forced to leave the household in search of a job after my father’s “cool” 1980’s drug habit started to get the best of him in the 90s. How he maintained a separate social lifestyle with 6 children and a wife under his belt for so many years, I don’t know. Now I know that my mother always knew and tried to fight it with him, but I didn’t know until I was nearly 13 years old. Apparently he had been using for my entire life and longer. I still cherished my dad because despite his pitfalls, he was always very cool.
The world thought he was cool. When we went places, most often he was the center of attention. People just liked to see him coming. He said what they wanted to say. In that way, I am sort of like him. I didn’t realize this until later on in my life because until the age of 15, I was silent Shila. In school I was the “quiet” girl who got the A’s and occasional B’s. I stayed in my head a lot- observing and thinking and waiting. I was the princess of patience until things fell apart. From that point on, my communication with the world changed.
Things fall apart. For me, this was not just a great CD by the hip hop group, The Roots. It was my real life. There are many details to my story, but in short, my father’s drug habit was exposed. The family knew, the community knew, everyone knew. He could no longer control his habit. We lost everything. House, belongings, stability, clear conscience, sanity, and respect. He sold everything that he could sneak out of the house. My family fell apart.
This caused a major barrier in communication amongst my family and from what I see, issues like these cause many families to not be able to speak and understand one another. In grad school, I was assigned a book to read: Communicating for Life by Quentin J. Schultze. In my studies of communication, I was forced by my conscious to relate everything back to my family because that is where communication starts for me. I remember reading one of the chapters that talked about recognizing your “fallenness.” This is understanding when you are wrong and where the problem originated. It can sort of be explained by having a EUREKA moment- an unexpected realization of the solution to a problem.
More recently, I have been having some communication issues that have left me questioning myself. I am surely not a person with hate in my heart. I find it very hard to hate anyone or anything. The word hate, is associated with too many feelings of negativity that I am unable to embrace. If there is something that I do not like, I normally say, “I strongly dislike this.” It doesn’t make me feel evil when I express myself this way. However, all feelings are valid in one way or another, but instead of romanticizing communication, I am trying other methods.
I noticed that in America, the culture here is to soften communication. I am definitely one that believes this is necessary in some cases, especially with children, but it is not ok to sweep things under the rug and say things a certain way because you are afraid of confrontation. I noticed my family and friends doing this a lot. I’ve noticed myself doing it sometimes, but in all reality, the ability to hide things is not prevalent in my character. I simply say it or wait until I can. I am no master in sharing my thoughts, but the reason I decided to pursue a degree in the field of communications was because I wish to become a master communicator on some level.
A lot of things make me uncomfortable and I tend to be what one may call a “loner.” I feel most productive and protected when I am with only a select amount of people and those have to be people that I naturally get along with, no hate attached. Sadly, there are few people that can embrace the type of person I am. So I am left wondering, what is wrong with me? Why do I tend to run away from social events, reunions, networking parties, and basically anything that would put me in an environment with too many foreign people. Then it hit me (the eureka moment), this isn’t a problem. Because of my past life and experiences, I am a person that operates independently.
When my father sacrificed our lives to his habit, I got quiet and began to go out and explore things for myself. Whereas I used to be with my siblings all the time, I left the house early mornings and went out on my own. It was this new found independence. I remember going to the library on Case Western Reserve University’s campus and using the computers. I was barely a high school student then, but I discovered that I could get into the library and use the computers with no problems. It is where I opened my first email account, YAHOO was the thing back then and it is where I had my first Yahoo Messenger conversation with a pen pal. I could speak online to a person about my life and what was happening to me. I could not speak to my family about what was happening to me.
This phase of communication for me ended shortly, because as things got worse, I just stopped talking period. In my silence, I was able to achieve a few things that were not normal amongst people from where I am from.
#1- I lived in a house without water for 3 years! Yes, we had no water and used a neighbors water hose to fill up empty milk jugs and buckets to wash dishes and bathe. Somehow, we did not stink. I did this and kept it from my friends with a straight face.
#2- I went to high school and lived in a new place every year of my high school life. It was abnormal to move so much, but by this time I was separated from my siblings and living with other family members.
#3- I graduated high school in the top 10 of my class. I didn’t feel smart at all. I had so many things going on, I wonder how I did it.
#4- I applied for college and got accepted and actually left my hometown with barely a coat on my back! None of my family members had ever gone to college, so I was the 1st college graduate in my family.
#5- I moved to a city and survived on my own with minimal help. I worked and handled my own finances as best I could. I remember having like a dime to my name. Really a shiny dime.
#6- I moved back to my home city and moved to an apartment of my own, making little money, but never having to ask for help from anyone.
Why are these things so significant? They are important to the fashion in which I communicate. I am young enough and old enough to have witnessed the downfall of communication and of education in America. I was in the right grade when communication changed. Computers were now a part of the education system. We took word processing courses and networked digitally as a privilege. When I was dealing with problems at home, I turned to technology to help me stay entertained and sane. In college, where we used to rely solely on books for research, professors had to outright say, “you can only use one computer resource.” They knew that students would use the computer for it all if they could.
With all this going, I observed and remained silent in many cases. I knew I had gone beyond the norm when it comes to an impoverished family with minimal resources. Since no one in my family had ever been to college, it was not easy applying and finding the money to attend. It was not easy arranging transportation to travel to a school 600 miles from home. It was not easy watching my roommates’ family move her nice things into the dorm room when I had nothing but a few suitcases. It was especially not easy learning to communicate with people with very different lives from my own. These young adults seemed to be advanced and from very stable families, more stable and nurturing then my own. I had to teach myself to think.
I studied politics and wanted to debate all the time. Even still I found it hard to communicate. The history of my family was always on my mind, but I was happy to be away. I didn’t even want to go home on holidays because it was just too much pain and bad feelings. I graduated with an acceptable GPA which I knew could’ve been better, but it was good, but not good enough in my mind.
Last night, as I argued with my friend, I asked myself, why is this happening? What good is this? I felt lost in the argument because what seemed to be a simple question that I asked became a drawn out quarrel. I could not attach myself to any wrong in this conversation. I could not blame myself for anything. I could not comprehend the situation. I searched my mind, asking many many questions and trying to find some logic. I had nothing. This reminded me of some points in my life where I knew something had to change.
So here I am, 15 years after the day, I found out my father who was the coolest guy I knew, was a drug addict. What am I saying? I am saying that since that day, I gained a level of consciousness that thrusted me into a NEW WORLD. Every time I search for answers to communication barriers, I think of that moment when I had the choice to cry or to move on. I moved on and cried later. It still breaks my heart because it was so heavy to see him using drugs in the basement of our house. I was so scared and amazed. I could see it, smell it, hear it- it was so real. That moment, seeing him burn rocks in a spoon. I stood there, cemented to the ground. I could smell it. I wanted to hurl. I could feel his energy, hungry for something and unaware of my presence. I could hear him snorting, preparing his body to receive the chemical produced by the fire from the lighter. My spirit was in shock. I had heard that he was using drugs, but now I knew. This was my new reality.
To me this is what real communication is about. Living through experiences like these, and still being able to speak, love, learn, appreciate and face reality. We are taught bad ways to communicate in America. We believe what the media says and only establish real lines of communication after seeing that someone has money or prestige. We only value the words of those who have money, not realizing that material things don’t validate anything in life.
Can you talk to the bum on the corner who wants to know where she can get a shower or the lost child who needs help finding his way? Can you stop updating your status on Facebook long enough to reach out to someone who is real, who really needs your help? Needs your words and encouragement? What is this new way of communicating all about? We all have issues and instead of dealing with each other we hide behind digital lines with no real ammunition other than broken hearts. Our stories prevent us from speaking and feeling, but we have to learn to overcome. Communicating through phone and online is easy, but when are going to start admitting it is not the best way to communicate? I have issues because of where I come from, we all do. However, using digital technology as the main means to communicate is not adding up. It can only be a bridge used in moderation. Don’t text me, just come and see me sometimes.
Poetry from Shila Iris:
“Sex lives so open, we post them in Twitter updates. Women so masculine, they emasculate. Facebook friends determine trends, eyes so blind, got you Linked in. Mind tied up in digital confusion, got you believing fake ass illusions.”
©NEEMA
Things fall apart. For me, this was not just a great CD by the hip hop group, The Roots. It was my real life. There are many details to my story, but in short, my father’s drug habit was exposed. The family knew, the community knew, everyone knew. He could no longer control his habit. We lost everything. House, belongings, stability, clear conscience, sanity, and respect. He sold everything that he could sneak out of the house. My family fell apart.
This caused a major barrier in communication amongst my family and from what I see, issues like these cause many families to not be able to speak and understand one another. In grad school, I was assigned a book to read: Communicating for Life by Quentin J. Schultze. In my studies of communication, I was forced by my conscious to relate everything back to my family because that is where communication starts for me. I remember reading one of the chapters that talked about recognizing your “fallenness.” This is understanding when you are wrong and where the problem originated. It can sort of be explained by having a EUREKA moment- an unexpected realization of the solution to a problem.
More recently, I have been having some communication issues that have left me questioning myself. I am surely not a person with hate in my heart. I find it very hard to hate anyone or anything. The word hate, is associated with too many feelings of negativity that I am unable to embrace. If there is something that I do not like, I normally say, “I strongly dislike this.” It doesn’t make me feel evil when I express myself this way. However, all feelings are valid in one way or another, but instead of romanticizing communication, I am trying other methods.
I noticed that in America, the culture here is to soften communication. I am definitely one that believes this is necessary in some cases, especially with children, but it is not ok to sweep things under the rug and say things a certain way because you are afraid of confrontation. I noticed my family and friends doing this a lot. I’ve noticed myself doing it sometimes, but in all reality, the ability to hide things is not prevalent in my character. I simply say it or wait until I can. I am no master in sharing my thoughts, but the reason I decided to pursue a degree in the field of communications was because I wish to become a master communicator on some level.
A lot of things make me uncomfortable and I tend to be what one may call a “loner.” I feel most productive and protected when I am with only a select amount of people and those have to be people that I naturally get along with, no hate attached. Sadly, there are few people that can embrace the type of person I am. So I am left wondering, what is wrong with me? Why do I tend to run away from social events, reunions, networking parties, and basically anything that would put me in an environment with too many foreign people. Then it hit me (the eureka moment), this isn’t a problem. Because of my past life and experiences, I am a person that operates independently.
When my father sacrificed our lives to his habit, I got quiet and began to go out and explore things for myself. Whereas I used to be with my siblings all the time, I left the house early mornings and went out on my own. It was this new found independence. I remember going to the library on Case Western Reserve University’s campus and using the computers. I was barely a high school student then, but I discovered that I could get into the library and use the computers with no problems. It is where I opened my first email account, YAHOO was the thing back then and it is where I had my first Yahoo Messenger conversation with a pen pal. I could speak online to a person about my life and what was happening to me. I could not speak to my family about what was happening to me.
This phase of communication for me ended shortly, because as things got worse, I just stopped talking period. In my silence, I was able to achieve a few things that were not normal amongst people from where I am from.
#1- I lived in a house without water for 3 years! Yes, we had no water and used a neighbors water hose to fill up empty milk jugs and buckets to wash dishes and bathe. Somehow, we did not stink. I did this and kept it from my friends with a straight face.
#2- I went to high school and lived in a new place every year of my high school life. It was abnormal to move so much, but by this time I was separated from my siblings and living with other family members.
#3- I graduated high school in the top 10 of my class. I didn’t feel smart at all. I had so many things going on, I wonder how I did it.
#4- I applied for college and got accepted and actually left my hometown with barely a coat on my back! None of my family members had ever gone to college, so I was the 1st college graduate in my family.
#5- I moved to a city and survived on my own with minimal help. I worked and handled my own finances as best I could. I remember having like a dime to my name. Really a shiny dime.
#6- I moved back to my home city and moved to an apartment of my own, making little money, but never having to ask for help from anyone.
Why are these things so significant? They are important to the fashion in which I communicate. I am young enough and old enough to have witnessed the downfall of communication and of education in America. I was in the right grade when communication changed. Computers were now a part of the education system. We took word processing courses and networked digitally as a privilege. When I was dealing with problems at home, I turned to technology to help me stay entertained and sane. In college, where we used to rely solely on books for research, professors had to outright say, “you can only use one computer resource.” They knew that students would use the computer for it all if they could.
With all this going, I observed and remained silent in many cases. I knew I had gone beyond the norm when it comes to an impoverished family with minimal resources. Since no one in my family had ever been to college, it was not easy applying and finding the money to attend. It was not easy arranging transportation to travel to a school 600 miles from home. It was not easy watching my roommates’ family move her nice things into the dorm room when I had nothing but a few suitcases. It was especially not easy learning to communicate with people with very different lives from my own. These young adults seemed to be advanced and from very stable families, more stable and nurturing then my own. I had to teach myself to think.
I studied politics and wanted to debate all the time. Even still I found it hard to communicate. The history of my family was always on my mind, but I was happy to be away. I didn’t even want to go home on holidays because it was just too much pain and bad feelings. I graduated with an acceptable GPA which I knew could’ve been better, but it was good, but not good enough in my mind.
Last night, as I argued with my friend, I asked myself, why is this happening? What good is this? I felt lost in the argument because what seemed to be a simple question that I asked became a drawn out quarrel. I could not attach myself to any wrong in this conversation. I could not blame myself for anything. I could not comprehend the situation. I searched my mind, asking many many questions and trying to find some logic. I had nothing. This reminded me of some points in my life where I knew something had to change.
So here I am, 15 years after the day, I found out my father who was the coolest guy I knew, was a drug addict. What am I saying? I am saying that since that day, I gained a level of consciousness that thrusted me into a NEW WORLD. Every time I search for answers to communication barriers, I think of that moment when I had the choice to cry or to move on. I moved on and cried later. It still breaks my heart because it was so heavy to see him using drugs in the basement of our house. I was so scared and amazed. I could see it, smell it, hear it- it was so real. That moment, seeing him burn rocks in a spoon. I stood there, cemented to the ground. I could smell it. I wanted to hurl. I could feel his energy, hungry for something and unaware of my presence. I could hear him snorting, preparing his body to receive the chemical produced by the fire from the lighter. My spirit was in shock. I had heard that he was using drugs, but now I knew. This was my new reality.
To me this is what real communication is about. Living through experiences like these, and still being able to speak, love, learn, appreciate and face reality. We are taught bad ways to communicate in America. We believe what the media says and only establish real lines of communication after seeing that someone has money or prestige. We only value the words of those who have money, not realizing that material things don’t validate anything in life.
Can you talk to the bum on the corner who wants to know where she can get a shower or the lost child who needs help finding his way? Can you stop updating your status on Facebook long enough to reach out to someone who is real, who really needs your help? Needs your words and encouragement? What is this new way of communicating all about? We all have issues and instead of dealing with each other we hide behind digital lines with no real ammunition other than broken hearts. Our stories prevent us from speaking and feeling, but we have to learn to overcome. Communicating through phone and online is easy, but when are going to start admitting it is not the best way to communicate? I have issues because of where I come from, we all do. However, using digital technology as the main means to communicate is not adding up. It can only be a bridge used in moderation. Don’t text me, just come and see me sometimes.
Poetry from Shila Iris:
“Sex lives so open, we post them in Twitter updates. Women so masculine, they emasculate. Facebook friends determine trends, eyes so blind, got you Linked in. Mind tied up in digital confusion, got you believing fake ass illusions.”
©NEEMA
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