Smell the Flowers While you Can

When I interned at Mid-City CAN I had recently graduated from high school and I didn’t know very much. I don’t know very much now but back then I really didn’t know a thing. I was the policy intern because my boss was the policy specialist. Looking back I’m not too sure what I actually did. I guess I did some research and little assignments and I did some writing. I had to learn how to speak in a professional environment. I made a lot of mistakes. I didn’t communicate well with my boss. I think there was a period of time where my boss thought I was coming in late all the time but in actuality I was arriving at the correct time. I think she thought I was supposed to come in earlier or something. At one point I think she might have brought up my tardiness and inability to communicate with her supervisor. Actually she definitely did because her supervisor brought it up at one point while talking to me. It was embarrassing but I learned from it. I asked a lot of irrelevant questions. Whe...

I'm not sure how I feel about op/eds. Do I really want to read another persons biased work. I guess I could say the same thing about this blog. In “Tips for Aspiring Op-Ed Writers ,“  Bret Stephens argues, “the purpose of an op-ed is to offer an opinion. It is not a news analysis or a weighing up of alternative views.”  Sure opinions can be important but I have a problem with not at least in part focusing on different or opposing views. Focusing on opposing views and breaking them down can help us understand and relate to others. It can help us change peoples minds. If we don’t understand where they’re coming from how are we supposed to show them the right path? I know this guy who refuses to read. I think that’s a huge mistake. I feel like if I can fully understand his side I’ll be able to change him. So far my efforts have led to nothing but I refuse to give up or I’ll give up when I get bored. What I do like about writing this op-ed is that I’ll probably get to develop a f...

I am from leotards,  from worn out socks and tights with holes in the most conspicuous of places  I am from the thin bits of paint that come off the barre. (Gray, sticky, a reminder of our unwavering dedication.)   I am from Bach, playing without fail, over those four set exercises, as I develop an awareness of how my body is feeling that day.  I’m from power and freedom,  from bandanas that keep the sweat out of my eyes.  I’m from the goofball making us all smile and laugh, reminding us it’s okay to be silly.   from Stop looking at the floor! and More freedom! I’m from Remy, our senior citizen dog who has taken it upon himself to ignore Kathryn and walk outside whenever the urge arises.  I’m from the spiky white ball that digs deep into my thighs and the white lacrosse ball that cures all things lower back.     From the black disks used without fail, half a turn, half a turn, half a turn, full turn.  ...

I don’t see myself as a teacher. I like the idea of being one though not in the formal sense. Going to school to become a teacher and then taking a position at some school sounds terrible. I'm talking about helping friends in areas where I have more experience. For example, at the boxing gym I go to, none of the people there are flexible. People work on speed, technique etc., but no one takes care of their body. Where’s the rolling out? They’re so tight I have to look away when they’re stretching. At times I wonder what their bodies feel like, how tight is their lower back or their calves or any other part. I’ve tried talking to people about the importance of rolling out and how wonderful I feel afterwards but if I can’t even get my friend to take me seriously then what’s the point in trying. Of course I’m going to continue trying, but I don’t believe anyone will listen.  Because of this idea of sharing my knowledge, I started wanting to tutor refugees in English. E...

This is my dance studio in North Park. I’m at the middle bar in plié. This was taken years ago, possibly my Sophomore year of high school. Standing near me is Kathryn Irey: teacher, dancer, comedian. To my right is Kaylie, her smile is contagious and she is dearly missed. To my left is Gg: pointe shoe fitter, Feldenkrais practitioner, and all around wonderful person.    The studio in December. Most years, following Thanksgiving, my dance teacher hangs Christmas lights along the mirror. I look forward to the lights all year and when they’re finally up I'm filled with child like joy on Christmas morning. At thirteen I was an overly quiet and timid girl. I didn’t have the courage and strength that I do now. My mother moved us from the Coachella Valley to San Diego and at first I thought the move would bring me instant joy and new friends, but for years I made none and I hardly spoke or smiled. Shortly after moving to San Diego my eldest broth...