A Rant about Checking the Box

I always refuse to check the boxes on application forms... unless I absolutely have to. I don't check the "ethnicity" box, and I don't acknowledge the sexual orientation that applies to me. And I always wonder why, and even feel a little guilty about it. Because it's not like I'm ashamed of the things that make up my identity; in real life, I don't deny anything. In fact, I actually take GREAT pride in being Latina (and a little more in being Colombian), and anyone who knows me will tell you that I couldn't possibly exercise more "gay pride" than I already do. But on paper... urgh. I just hate it! I can't explain myself or go into detail on a piece of fucking paper. I am very rarely given an opportunity to write things underneath those little boxes, like, "Well, I'm Latina, but I'm specifically Colombian, and actually my parents were the ones who were born there," or, "Race doesn't even exist, you asshole," or, "I'm gay, but I don't *look* like a stereotypical lesbian... not that there's anything wrong with that."

Okay, writing this down totally makes me feel like I'm being petty and immature, but it doesn't take away from the shitty, helpless feeling I get whenever I'm forced to check a goddamn box. I feel as if that action is equivalent to me telling them, "These are the qualities that make up who I am; I hereby give you permission to read this and make as many assumptions about me as you want, no matter how untrue they probably are." Checking box is agreeing to subject yourself to prejudiced views and narrow-minded accusations. And that fucking sucks.

You check the box and send the little piece of paper away to float in the universe and you have absolutely NO control over how people read it. And then there are those lines at the end that they give you. You know, the ones that ask, "Is there anything else you'd like us to know about you?" which, theoretically, provide the perfect opportunity to go into detail about the previously checked boxes, but, um, HELLO, you don't want to sound like a neurotic douche bag by breaking down every single aspect of your identity, so of course you just leave it blank or write some bullshit sentence about how excited you are about the internship/job/whatever.

Can I just be gay without having a stamp on my forehead that announces it? Again, the problem isn't being open with my sexuality. Rather, I have an issue with the fact that, once that declaration is made, especially on a piece of fucking paper, being gay becomes all I am (especially since I'm a woman, but I'll go into that in another entry). I'm suddenly Cathy the Lesbian, not Cathy the person, Cathy the human being who's gay but also so many other things. Seriously, why are we so obsessed with knowing someone's labels before getting to know them as people?

The refusal to check the box is a challenge. This refusal is my way of not letting you take the easy way out - the path you are so accustomed to taking. It is more difficult, and it is more unrealistic, and it definitely takes way more time, but it's also so much more rewarding in the end.

And I resented this: resented being called an American (and resented resenting it) because it seemed to make me nothing more than that, whatever that was; and I resented being called not an American because it seemed to make me nothing."

-- Giovanni's Room

I am a Freak

(I wrote this as part of my friend Lynda's senior thesis. We're writing about ourselves and creating a theatrical piece based on our experiences, which we're performing in a few months.)

I am a freak.

I feel like a child and an old woman at the same time.

I love sleeping but also hate it because the thought of missing things terrifies me. And I don't mean oversleeping for class or work, as much as missing experiences or moments that can never be reenacted. When I wake up in the morning, I always think about all of the conversations or exciting things that happened while I was asleep. I love moments, and I love singling them out and acknowledging them, but I find it hard to live in them at the same time. I always say things like, "This is such a great moment," but, often, instead of appreciating it for what it is right when it's happening, I envision myself in ten or twenty or fifty years, looking back on it, and think about how that will feel. This is especially true at this point in my life, my college years, the so-called "best years of your life," as everyone says. Last week, I had a series of absolutely amazing days. And all I kept thinking about was how these were the moments I would look back on with nostalgia in my thirties.

My dream is to live in a little cottage by the woods with only books for company. And maybe some animals that wander in and out as they please. I'd live near a lake and spend my days taking walks and being one with nature and writing and thinking, like Henry David Thoreau. He's kind of my hero, in some ways. But I also have another dream, in which I travel all over the world - on little to no money - and have adventures and make music with strangers, like in the video "Nantes" by Beirut (that video changed my life. It was like watching a dream I never knew I had come true). It makes me sad that I can't have both dreams, which makes me wish I had two lives that I could live simultaneously, so I'd always have my fill of solitude and companionship.

Here Comes The Sun

I don't think there's anything more beautiful than watching everyone around you "wake up" as Spring approaches. This week, the weather was absolutely gorgeous and everyone spent their days lounging around on the Great Lawn. The campus suddenly came to life. Everyone was in a ridiculously good mood, perfectly content to lay on the grass and do absolutely nothing for hours on end. The frisbees and soccer balls came out, as did the blankets and hookahs. If you were to lie down and close your eyes, you'd hear people singing and playing guitar, laughter, and even the occasional puppy barking excitedly.

Anyway, as you can probably tell, I had a really wonderful week. My only regret was not having a camera to capture the moments. I realized the next best thing was writing it all down. So here we are!

Things I Did This Week:

- Performed in The Vagina Monologues for the last time, and started rehearsals for my next show, M. Butterfly.

- Spent 3-4 hours every day (except Thursday) basking in the sunlight with great friends.

- Attended a Cheese Tasting event (my favorite was brie on crackers with dried cranberries and honey).

- Had rehearsal for my friend's senior thesis outside on the grass as the sun was setting. Part of the rehearsal involved sitting in a circle and telling each other stories.

-Watched three episodes of my current favorite television show, Slings and Arrows, with a great friend at his house. Laughed a lot.

-Participated in a clown workshop as part of my Theater Texts and Theory class.

-Purchased one of my favorite childhood books, A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein, at the Brandeis bookstore. Friends and I took turns reading poems to each other on the great lawn.

-Finally got next year's housing worked out - Officially living with four really awesome lesbians! Wouldn't have it any other way, obviously.

-Somehow still managed to get all of my work done.

"Springtime is the land awakening.

The March winds are the morning yawn."

-Lewis Grizzard