I wish someone had taught me to make a fool of myself at school. By that, I mean I wish they had told me that it’s okay to opine. That it’s okay if my opinions, when finally out of my mouth, were not accepted or understood. That it’s still important to have them, and change them if they go against facts. That it’s okay to go after activities that were so beyond my comfort zone that my reflex was to think and say no.
That it’s okay to question, question and question until I understood a concept. That in the end, it’s much more beneficial and rewarding to reach out to someone and be kind than join the bullies. Some of the strengths I acquired came from practising habits that were labeled as “foolishness” and “weaknesses” by the people around me.
Guess what? All of these things that I could have learnt but didn’t, I eventually had to. I had to invest time, effort and lot of stress to unlearn some stubbornly-ingrained habits and patterns.
It was time to start afresh in a senior secondary school. I didn’t have to be someone who stuck to books and isolated herself because she thought she didn’t have much to contribute. I learnt confidence and that I could be a good friend. I spoke up, at least within the group I trusted.
There was a long way to go. But discovering that people hide behind their own stubbornly-ingrained patterns and are insecure about things that may not matter to you or me, helped my confidence and gave me a kinder perspective.
College happened. A teacher’s belief in me helped me believe in myself. For someone like me, who shakily waves at spotlight from afar, it was a big deal to take part in city and state writing competitions. I won at many too. I realized that I have imaginative worlds and opinions to share through stories and essays. I was surprised. I began to see myself in a new light.
I loved the subjects I had chosen and though the topic of my attendance is best left under a carpet along with my sheepish memories of ducking teachers in hallways, I did devote myself to learning. It took one great teacher to poke and kick my dormant strengths awake. I became the student editor for the college magazine. It felt… right.
To be in any position of authority requires a certain skill, sure, but it’s also something you grow into and learn from. You don’t have to be perfect at it already. Wish someone had told me that. Before these years of college, I didn’t know how passionate I can be for the things I care about. I still seek that high from any work I take up.
It’s not all up, up and up. There are bound to be dips. Mental and physical health, lack of acceptance, past or fresh trauma, tragedies, financial troubles – they set traps. They get in the way. It’s a good idea to take time to deal with these, seek help when needed, open up and look for like-minded people.
We can take a break or change our plans to deal with crucial life stages which others (we think) are breezing by. I truly wish someone had told me that. Women, men, non-binary folk and however you identify on the gender spectrum, give yourself a break.
Now comes post-graduation life at the university. My 3-month internship took me to Delhi. Away from home for the first time, I learnt how to cope with a working day and a working environment, live in an unfamiliar place, make decisions for my survival, and build relationships.
My stints at NGOs in Chandigarh showed me how full of crap I was, and I’m sure I still am in many ways. They offered me more glimpses into the misogynistic, homophobic and transphobic nature of my city, into the complexities of human-made divides, as well as grey areas of right and wrong. These lessons would soon snowball.
Learning on the job and volunteering is something you need to seek and demand as a student because it’s an incredible experience, and not just because it’s part of the curriculum. I wish someone had told me that.
Now came the part I was truly excited about. It was time to graduate and get a job, and figure out what I love. I wish someone had told me you don’t need to have it all figured out before you get a job. I learnt what I love when I was in an environment where opportunities and challenges were flung at my face.
So I happily learnt. I learnt from three major jobs that I can manage content for a start-up, that I can coordinate a movement like One Billion Rising India, that I can take initiatives and make them fun, that I can speak up on social causes and continue to evolve.
I learnt that I can multitask, that I can work quickly, that I like taking feedback, that I am fascinated with how authors, illustrators and editors come together to make meaningful and fun children’s books, and the fact that I can edit them.
In 2017, along with brave and inspiring women I had only met on Facebook, we organized I Will Go Out, a national movement that brought girls and women from 33+ cities across India out on the streets on January 21, to protest against street sexual harassment. No one, including us, thought that we could pull it off. I volunteered to be one of the social media managers of the Facebook page, a position I still occupy.
I had realized many years ago that my feminism was extremely problematic. In fact, it was not feminism at all. I’m still learning, but I have practised feminism through our Facebook page within the nurturing circle of views of my feminist team and our users, and I have applied it in action in my everyday life.
You do the same with skills. You practise them.
It takes TIME. To unlearn thought patterns that hold you back, and learn new ones that push you to be more you. It’s a continuous process, and that’s OKAY. I just wish someone had told me that.