Blog Post 1: Reaching

Yasmin Mohammadi

Blogging and Cultural Awareness

Sarah Lowen

November 8^th 2016

Blog Post 1: Reaching

            Since birth, parts of my hart were scattered throughout the world. If my father’s culture were black, my mother’s is white. And my friends? Theirs are any color your imagination can conjure, but always different, finely distinct. I grew up in a world where borders are blurred, almost nonexistent, seemingly shifting ceaselessly.  “Countries”: an idea that somewhere in time grew and rose to the apex of human standards, skipped me in its development. I create my own culture. It is still a work in progress. My experiences create me. I am still a work in progress.

            Progress is my standard. It is to watch and observe and ponder and listen and read and learn. It is to mingle and explore and share, and share, and share. It is to seek out the unknown with a free mind and soul and heart. It is to strive to embrace, but above all, respect. It is to live and let live; to never restrict unless true harm is made. It is adventure: to explore everywhere and one, nowhere and one, and all where is unknown and none. I strive to seek the good in you and couple it with the good in me. The good in us.

            Us: those who live and breathe and love and invent. Such imperfect masterpieces we are. Naturally we disagree and hold biases and quarrel. We harm one another for reasons inconceivable. I have been harmed and am still harmed due to all these non-reasons. Taken were my gender, ethnicity, religion, individuality, me, and lynched with words and actions too many to count. I am sure you can relate. Many a me has thus sought out my tolerance for prejudice; all are yet to return. To me we are one (and not just me).

            One. To treat others with that kindness that one would appreciate towards oneself. To have hearts for eyes and minds for hearts and eyes for minds; to not reach grand bland conclusions from the shallow land of appearances. We all tread our own journey and picture our own destinations. What merit is there in concocting one another’s debacles? Why engage in competition that is venomous, and not in the fun way? In this existence of infinity, there is enough to go around for everyone, then much more to be made of imagination and intelligence and courage. I believe that. I believe in being a positive seed, however far my branches may reach.

            I am a nomadic entity who wishes not to reach settlement, but wish does to reach: to stretch my limbs as far as they would go at the end of this ironic and amusing and everything journey before finally welcoming slumber.  I reach – I try – for a culture that grows and matures and develops, and then some. I try to reach a culture that thrives on sharing to care, and caring to share. I reach out to a nurturing world, one generous and non-judgmental. I reach out now for the worthwhile effort it demands, this fickle culture of mine; this free colorful culture of ours.