Finding Myself in Women's Studies

Part One:

Picture me… centered in Love

my map is full of treasures

with X’s and O’s marking each memory

to me a kiss and a hug represents family

it’s “hello” and “goodbye”, it’s “I’m sorry” and “I’m here”

my family is my Love

a Love that I sometimes do not like

blood and money tying it together

secrets and pain hanging over each privileged member

our outside shell with glossed over cracks

and forgotten about kin, not perfect or pure enough

I am female in my family

I am liberal in my family

I am single in my family

I am atheist in my family

and that matters

my educated voice is often misunderstood

as I carefully speak to closed minds and aged ears

sometimes I want to scream

but then I remember the Love

the X of my dad’s never-ending support

the home my mom creates within herself

my aunt’s magical way of curing pain

the Love is a compass that guides me.

Part Two:

With Love guiding me I was blinded

Sheltered from reality as the Today Show echoed through my big white house

as my mom drove me to school while my dad owned the buses that stopped nearly at my door

as I attended classes with the same 30 people I had known since preschool

as I matured within a predominantly white, catholic, conservative small town

But that Love that left me in the dark

also held privilege

the privilege to leave

staying was never even an option

While my peers had never imagined another world

my path was predetermined with arrows pointing towards higher education

pushed into the university blind and uninformed

my body was forced to navigate differently.



Part Three:

I found myself searching for the X’s

the buried treasures that possibly had answers

possibly had Love

college opened my eyes and forced me into a new reality

but I was still able to blend into a whitewashed campus

unaware of its violent hidden history

I felt safe and welcome in each class

the new freedom quickly molded me into a girl I did not know

alcohol blurred my weekends together

sex became frequent and forgotten

I was having what they call the “college experience”

my grades stayed consistent because failing was my biggest fear

completely self-centered in need of likes and praise

here I lost memories and fragments of time

Memories my body survived without my mind

memories buried without an X.

Part Four:

Somewhere in between the college-sponsored drinking and nonconsensual sex

I found meaning

guided by my X’s

my center

my Love

what I would later recognize as also my privilege

listening in class I connected with each word in a way I never had before

I saw what my body represented

how easily it moved through different spaces

I became aware of the people standing next to me

and the people who were not

lessons held power with discomfort and difficult realities

each day pushed me to question my values and understanding of the world

my Love began to spread beyond myself

thriving within an institution

confused but strengthened by the titles of each class

centering women

giving me a space I didn’t know I needed.