EMERSON ESSAY

My father taught me how to ride waves...

to hold you hands strong in front, they show you the way.

To take a deep breathe quickly, for it makes you fly and live.

THE WAVE I CAN�T QUITE REMEMBER.

Maybe the water was too cold.

Maybe I didn�t want to dress for the occasion.

Or perhaps I just had too much to hide. Then.

I DO KNOW HOW TO TAME THE OCEAN....

although it still hasn�t found a way to tame me.

My Dad taught me how the waves follow me and how

the waves did not create me for what creates you can destroy you-

the waves are jealous creatures-like I- breathing and living to break.

I KNOW HOW TO BREAK but I am so much stronger than that.

I am among those who silently watch, among the dreamers who can see that the horizon can be touched. There were times when those trivial details weren�t. I used to cry in the shower for everything I could not change and weep for what was going to happen tomorrow. I can not say I miss that. I can say that crying does not feel quite the same. It seems to be flowing more evenly, openly, and without exhaustion. There are times when I smile and nod accordingly and it is my inside that hurts. Then again inside is me. I utilize that. I thrive by that. I laugh when I know people around me fit in so well that they stand out. I laugh when I know I am being enjoyed by all, except myself. That could be from the war. The war that my body has been fighting ever since I was raped. Every since I decided he needs help, that I hold no contempt for him because I know he doesn�t understand. I need to help. I need to take the image of women and sex out of the minds of the young, out of the minds of the older who believe consent is in calling eyes, out of minds of women who believe beauty is whether a product was tested on animals and the blush highlighted the skin nicely before the animal died toxically. I need to make myself seem beautiful. I need to do this through education and not just common need and soap boxes. I need to do this and understand why the messages need to work subliminally and understand what taints our media.

Someday when the clouds part alongside me; when my part becomes whole; when I do not worry about fitting in and airbrushed pictures the world will explode before my very eyes and greet me the next day bandaged by the loss of the hatred that has just been annihilated. No matter how many times you have seen a wave break, a sunset, or taken a walk to feed pigeons the possibility to have seen more has been passed up. I cannot ruin what has already become spoiled, but I can rationalize to know nothing is not fixable and ruined. It is hard to burn a candle when the wind is blowing but it is easier when someone blocks the punches.

Why chose Emerson? Because Emerson doesn�t just block the wind or shelter me from punches, Emerson teaches that it is possible to remain a dreamer and it is possible to better the world without hurting it first. To change the media would change the world, the world needs to be changed, and I know I need to change it. I know I can.

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