What is social justice to me

So I settled on social justice. What is social justice in education? Have you ever felt that a topic was so huge that you just didn't know how to talk about it? But here is just a thought. Social justice is a living breathing element of rights, privileges, and entitlements that are found in society that are accessible to rich and the poor, the whites and the nonwhites, the old and the young, the heterosexuals and the LGBTs, and the able and the disabled. When we speak of social justice, however, we often find ourselves speaking about the social injustices that exist in our society because of unequal access that the majority of society have experienced in their lifetimes. I am a product of social injustice in education and I have a voice.

I will be chronicling my thoughts just so I can get a grip on what I want to talk about for my dissertation to help me get through this stage in my life. I am already stressed just writing about it. My vulnerability about my thinking tells me that I am afraid that someone will tell me that I am too simplistic or that I will not make sense, or that they would say, "so what" but that is a risk I take because I do believe there is something in my heart that is worth sharing. In the meantime, I am deep breathing.

School is stressing me out

I am working on a dissertation topic and I am struggling. You see I am not a brilliant student. I am not a great student. I am really pretty average. But because I am a brown, short, fat, Samoan woman, someone said to me, "You know...you really have something to say." Twenty-five years later I am still trying to figure out what I wanted to say. You see, I am in education and have been going to school since forever. I got a bachelor's degree and a master of science degree and I thought....what the blazin' trails...I might as well finish the journey and get a philosophy of doctorate degree since I am more than half way there. But there is one problem. I don't know that I have even said anything or believe that my words really could make a difference.

Here I am nearing end of my PhD journey and I find myself at the crossroad of,"Should I quit or should I not quit." Each time I try to quit I can't. During my journey I have found that I have so much in my heart and so much to say, yet I have a heart of a lion but the voice of a mouse. In so many ways I blamed this on my Samoan culture, of being seen and not heard, as well as on the Generation Boom era of women are seen but have no voice.

Finding my voice is killing me. I want so badly to break out of myself and just when I am ready to speak I stop myself, just like I have stopped myself so many times before. I am so well trained in being politically correct and not rocking the boat, that taking my rightful place in the education profession just hasn't happened. This need to be accepted in the white world has put me in precarious position of not being noticed when deep down inside I know exactly where I stand.

Digging through these multiple layer of awareness has stifled my personal progression and my professional acceptance in the world of academe. But just give me a minute. If there is one thing I am great at, it is enduring to the end and getting the prize.

Will the pain ever go away

Here we go again. Another day in back-pain hell. This tossing and turning has just got to stop. The excruciating pain is unbelievable and yet I still do nothing about it. For every toss and turn in bed, I am rewarded with a burst of shocking waves that just shoots through both of my legs. Living with this has caused me sleepless nights. So why don't I take care of this problem..... I guess the memory of more surgery is just too much.

You see, I blame the start of my back pain to the time when I was given an epidural in my back to block the pain that I knew I would experience in giving birth to my third son. But the epidural magic never kicked in...instead I felt every bit of the pain of birth. But worse, the doctor kept trying to get the needle in my back and was poking around in all the wrong places. It was probably a good thing that I couldn't see what he was doing, but my poor sweet husband was visibly turning white. That in and of itself was shocking because he is a brown man. I remember him saying, "Honey, don't move, just be still, okay." Later, he described this bloody mess to me and said there was plenty of blood to make any man sick.

Since then, I had never been the same. Like clockwork, when I walked, bent, knelt, laid, danced, worked, held my children, I would feel this shift in my back every week. And then it came. This nightmare that would never go away, and yes I was wide awake. This pure stroke of electricity ripping across my lower back and down through both of my legs. This excruciating shock was strong enough to drop me to the floor and left me sobbing. My children never really knew that it was unusual for me to raise them from my in bed, on crutches, or on a hard chair. Today, it is a dull memory of 11 years of despair after my back surgery. Life is so much better. But recovery is a real.... well you know what I mean.

But I really should go see a doctor, but who has time. I really have no time.

What the Blazin' Trails...

Who would've of thought that I would become a blogger! I have always wanted to write about whatever I wanted and that eventually it would make sense. But I never really thought about writing for anyone to see. This a huge risk as a boomer in her 50s but that should not stop you from reading this blog if you are a GenX kid. I am in a crazy stage of life right now and just need to get a few things off my chest. So this social outlet is a perfect setting for me. I just hope my supervisor doesn't try to follow this blog or he will just have to fire me. Oh well.

So you will be reading about my life in its current reality while at the same time reading on my reflections and life experiences that have shaped and molded me. Of course your posts are welcome, because I do want to know that someone is out there for real and that this blog might actually be entertaining. Now, if it is a sleeper, would you please stay awake long enough to write back. Okay.....so that's it. I have to go to sleep because this boomer still has a traditional job since my flight attendant days are over. Oh....that's right. I never was a flight attendant. lol.