Somewhere in America - The Power of the spoken word

I just wanted to share this video with you all.  It was released over a year ago, so some of you may already have seen it - but if not, I really recommend a watch.

The spoken word is a powerful thing - and here it is used expertly to express what so many of us are thinking.
Even as a non-American citizen, I feel more empowered than ever before to stand up for what's right.

I know there are a lot of similar videos circulating; a lot of [young] individuals standing up and speaking their minds at debate rallies, at school assemblies, at poetry slams... Speaking out for OUR world, and OUR lives, and OUR futures.
For we must speak out, or nothing will change. Because speaking out leads to solidarity. It brings the world together.

And right now, that's something that we really need...

'Ear.' Like what you hear out of...

Hello!!

Firstly, sorry for 'deserting' this blog. I realise it's been a long while since I've posted anything - which I suppose isn't very surprising considering the amount of times I've actually not posted anything in months...
But, this time, I'm not going to make any false-promises, and say that I'll be posting regularly or anything like that. Because, let's be fair, you all know that I probably won't...

There's been a fair bit of change in my life since I last posted - moving to a new city (in what is pretty much a new country), starting university, making new friends, trying to successfully adult...

So, I thought I'd give you a bit of an update as to what's been going on in my life...

The last (almost) 7 weeks of university have been a rollercoaster of emotions - beginning on a high, with a few lows, but currently careening higher and higher and higher because - not gonna lie - I'm having the best time!

Ok, so I have quite a lot of work set. And I've already had to sit an exam worth 25% of one of my modules. And I'm missing my family and friends back home.

But uni life has served me well so far.
My course is great (though full-on!), my flatmates are lovely, the city is beautiful...
As clichéd as it sounds, I've already begun to learn so much about myself, and about life.

And about my accent...

Allow me to explain...

At home home (i.e. Wales), my friends refer to me as the 'posh one', because apparently I have a 'refined' accent, and I'm very eloquent, and say 'baaath' rather than 'bahth'...

At uni home however...

The other day, I tried to say the word 'ear' to the nurse who was giving me a vaccination. Safe to say, she had absolutely no idea what in the world I was going on about.
You see, since arriving at university (and particularly over the last few weeks) I've realised that I pronounce 'ear' and 'year' in exactly the same way. Which is very confusing to anyone who doesn't pronounce 'ear' and 'year' in exactly the same way...

I then tried to explain this incident to one of my flatmates, who also got very confused by my pronunciation!

My accent's also begun to weirdly fluctuate. I've heard people say that if you live with someone for long enough then you'll begin to pick up parts of their accent - but I never believed them. Until about 3 weeks ago...

My parents and brother came to visit the weekend before last, and the first thing my brother commented on as soon as he saw me was that my accent was - and I quote - "very weird"!



Also, one thing that I'm finding hard to get my head around is the fact that I need to decide where I want to live next year.

Like, right now.

I've only been at uni for 7 weeks, and already people are talking about moving into houses together, and flat-shares, and private accommodation....

And I don't really know what in the world I'm going to do...

I've been really lucky this year in that my university guaranteed on-campus accommodation for all 1st year students, but it pretty much means that I have absolutely no experience in having to compare student housing, and find housemates, and pay rent to a landlord every month...

I've been looking into private flat accommodation that's about a 10 minute walk from campus (something that a few of my other flatmates/friends have been considering), and - at the minute - this seems to be the best option for me. Particularly seeing as my course is partly placement-based, which means if I have to travel far, I might not be around to pay rent on a monthly basis - which could be problematic if I'm in a house-share [the private accommodation lets me pay for the whole year in one payment, or allows me to pay for more than one month at a time - which is great for me - as long as I can afford it]

The only thing is, I'll more than likely be living with people that I've never met/spoken to before. So, basically, it'd be like doing freshers week all over again [just without the excessive alcohol and marker pen-ing people's faces], and although I'm really up for meeting new people, there's a tiny little part of me that's quite anxious about it!!


Afterthought: This is written on a poster pinned to a noticeboard outside my uni's laundry room, and obviously I had to take a picture.
Truly insightful words...

This Small Town: Reflections on a changing world

I’ve lived in this same small town since I was a child. Walked the same roads, with the same sounds and same smells. The same greetings in the same tones. The same stories – of birth and marriage and death; new jobs, new homes, new starts. New lives for new people.

And yet, for me there doesn’t seem to be any chance of a new start. A new life. This small town is all I’ve ever known. And there’s a part of me that knows that it’s all I’ll ever know.

This small town is my prison. No – not quite a prison. More of a stronghold. You see, it’s like in those old tales, of kings and queens and castles. And at the start, it’s great. Perfect, even. It protects you; keeps you safe. The enemy watches from down below, and it’s the best place to be.

And you love the people; the company. They’re all you’ve ever known, just as this place is all you’ve ever known…

But, then, one day, the walls of the stronghold start falling down, and you realise that you no longer feel safe. And the enemy starts coming up the hill, and you don’t recognise the people anymore. Your comrades are all gone, and everyone’s a stranger.

But you can’t leave. And as much as you try, it keeps you captive. The walls are re-built, but it’s not the same. And, for the first time in your life, you feel alone.

But the roots still grow through the soil – eternal reminders of once was, and what will always be…

****

This (very) short narrative was inspired by a visit to some of my maternal family a few weeks ago. Quite a few comments were passed about the drastic changes in the town where they live - different people, schools, the closing down of family-run shops. Generally, a different - and somewhat unfamiliar - atmosphere. The feeling that although it is the same place, it feels so different...

Here I Discuss Two Starkly Contrasting Things

1. I watched a really awesome TV drama the other day, called 'Don't Take My Baby'. It was a scripted/acted programme, but inspired by a true case of two disabled parents and their young baby, and explores the world of the thousands of children born to disabled parents in the UK each year - a world that, I must guiltily admit, I'd never really considered.

The mother (Anna) had a rare muscle-wasting condition (diagnosed when she was 2, and told ever since that she has 'two years' to live) and was confined to a wheelchair, and the father (Tom) a genetic degenerative sight condition which rendered him partially sighted (and, ultimately, almost completely blind).
I admit, my description makes this programme sound really bleak and dreary, but it's not.
Rather than only focusing on the negative impacts and effects of disability, it explores the positives.

A couple's marvellous determination to keep and raise their child.

And even though I was aware that they were actors, I could help but root for the characters of Anna and Tom - and for baby Danielle. Their determination to live independent lives in spite of their disabilities (Tom - although with limited eyesight - was Anna's primary carer) made me feel for these thousands of parents, unsure whether they will ever get to care for their baby ever again.

And, there were definitely light moments. Tom drunkenly announcing to Anna (when they first meet at a party) that they should skinny-dip in a swimming pool. Tom building Anna a "computer changing table" (basically just a computer table with a bit of wood sawn off) so that she could feed and change Dani....

Neither character saw each other as disabled, but as parents - with Tom announcing bluntly: "I'm Tom, and I'm a father. This is Anna, and she's a mother".

Two strong characters, played by two strong actors, in a programme that manages to somewhat over-ride the stigma and prejudices that often come as part of the term 'disability'.

*********

2. In stark contrast, apparently Calvin Harris is dating Taylor Swift??! Like, the ACTUAL Taylor Swift.

Anyone else still remember him from Dizzee Rascal's 'Dance Wiv Me' video, back in 2008 [Was it only released in the UK???]
What happened to the mildly awkward guy with the floppy fringe and slightly wonky teeth?

Seriously.

You could cut diamonds on his abs now.*

*Not literally, though. The scientist inside me is screaming out. Human abs CANNOT break a diamond.

WHAT'S GOING ON???!!

Gif A Little Love...

I'm too lazy to write an actual stimulating, intelligent post today, so instead I will leave you with some random gifs. Because gifs are cool.

(I know, gifs are probably old-school by now - but I still own (and cherish) an mp3 player and a collection of VHSs, so don't judge me, OK?)



I love Charlie Brown!













#relationshipgoals





My favourite Friends line. Ever.

Afterthought: I think I've just kind-of plagiarised the 'My Life in Gifs' tag. Oops...
Also: Just realised that the title only works if you pronounce 'gif' as 'gif' not 'jif'. Otherwise, it just sounds weird...

Why I Wish That I Hadn't Succumbed To The 'Norm'

Since I was really small, cricket has played a huge part in my life. I've been going to games every Saturday in the summer, and picking up the rules, and playing sweep shots in my back garden. And I love it.

When I was about 9, I went with my brother and father to a cricket training session, just because I wanted to try something new.

But the problem was, the coach was very 'traditional' in his beliefs, and didn't believe that the cricket field was the best place for women. So, obviously, the 2 of us girls who turned up to training week upon week didn't have a chance.

So, I gave up. We girls stopped training - at the time I didn't know of any girls who played cricket; didn't even know that there were female international teams.
I just knew that I wouldn't be seen in the same way as the guys.

Ok, I'm definitely not the best cricketer in the world. Heck, I'm not even the best cricketer in my family.
But shouldn't you do things because you enjoy them, not just because you're good at them? And maybe that's what I should have done. Stuck it out and practised some more. Even if I didn't ever play, or if I gave up when I left primary school...

Because my brother plays for the Seconds team, and both my parents are scorers, and my dad's a junior coach, and my brother's an assistant coach...

My family are all involved, and although I know that there's a place for me, I sometimes feel like a hanger-on.

If I was 10 years younger, then I'd possibly be playing right now. Because the new coach is amazing, and talks to me about the Women's Ashes (he's even desperate to train me up as an umpire right now!!)

So although we haven't had a women's team in our village since the 50s, I'm holding out hope that one day soon there'll be a group of girls who'll decide that they 
 love cricket and do what I did wrong in not caring what anyone thinks.

Thinking Out Loud (Well, Nearly)

I am here
I don't know where I'm going
But maybe that's the best way to be.
These metaphoric arms
Still have half a hold upon me -
Tell me, why can I not feel free?

This is probably going to be the least organised post I've ever written, because it's basically just a jumble of thoughts that I need to put into words.

So, recently, I've been doing a lot of thinking.
I mean, a lot of thinking.

It's like my last year of school sucked my personality from me - fed me the opinions of others instead of my own, told me not to question why.

And now, I'm thinking so much. Forming opinions - so much so that I'm starting to question who I am.

What do I believe in? Where do I stand? Where am I going?

Where do I belong?

This question of belonging has been throwing itself about my brain for so long. Not so much in a physical sense - where is home? - but in a metaphorical (if not even spiritual) sense.

Where do I belong in this world I call home?

Of course, I know what I want to do for a living.
But that still doesn't stop these questions circulating.

Who am I? Who am I? Who am I?


But I think I've finally come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter.
You don't need to find yourself, because each day is a new day.
You learn, you discover, you grow.

As human beings, we evolve.

Each day, we will find a 'new' version of us.
It might not be a revolutionary change, but the us we are today will be different to the us we were yesterday - or the us we will be tomorrow.

After studying Buddhism for 2 years, I think these past weeks have allowed me to finally understand the concept of anicca. Impermanence.

Nothing stays the same forever.

It's why I don't enjoy the songs I did 5 years ago... Get along with the same people...

It's why I say I know where I belong, then question myself again.

I may have found myself when I was 15, but that doesn't mean that I'll be that same person forever.
I don't want to be that same person forever.

So maybe who am I? isn't the right question. Instead, maybe I should stop trying.
Stop trying to categorise myself, and instead concentrate on life itself.

Maybe by doing this, I'll find who I am, in this moment.

But, then again, who knows.