What's goin' on

I'm smack-dab in the middle of RA Training. Aaaaand I'm loving it! I was dreading it but now that I'm in the middle I remember why I loved August training so much.

We've been doing the normal sessions, meals, etc together (I know you don't know the normal, but the purpose of this post is not to describe RA Training).

Tonight we had a session entitled "Comfort/Discomfort" where we first started out with a bunch of questions regarding our abilities (not as RAs, but as people) and how we felt about certain topics (sexuality, race, etc.). This wasn't that bad. Next, we broke into groups of 9-10 with a CD and went to private rooms to discuss various issues. We were warned that we could get upset, mad, various emotions and that this discussion was meant to spur debates and make us uncomfortable.

Now, walking into it, I had an idea of what was going to go on, but I didn't know for sure.

We started out with the normal, "What people are you comfortable with, not with ....etc." And then we (I actually cannot remeber the exact question that started my speaking buuuut" moved on to why are you a certain way.

A fellow RA (the session was supposed to be confidential and I won't tell you who it is, but she's a great person and I never knew we could connect on this level) started talking about the fact that she's from a racist family and that she's the way she is because she wanted to not be like her family.

At this point, I hadn't really had anything to contribute to the conversation, but as she was speaking, I related to her in so many ways, and decided to share my family experiences.

The CD that kind of, moderated the conversation is a very nice, successful, strong black woman. I got to share with the room that I come from an extremely racist family. I also actually connected the reason I HATE to go home to this fact because closed-minded people really irritate me. And I honestly didn't make that connection until the time I was speaking.

I didn't tell my group this, but I feel it will be better to get it off my chest since I'm feeling better about my personal situation with my parents.

My dad is really racist. His idea of a good night is sitting in front of his tv, drinking beer and bashing those unlike him. He hates black people, and loves to share jokes about them and use the "N" word.

My mother is an alcoholic and is bipolar. She doesn't take medicine for this, but just drinks her days away. She has a job and everything. But since my dad travels for nine months out of the year, she copes by putting every aspect of her children down and drinking until she passes out.

I hate the "N" word. I hate never leaving my house. I hate having to endure endless "conversations" with my parents about how I'm NOT doing in school and how I'm NOT doing everything I can with my resources.

My brother took seven years to graduate from college. SEVEN YEARS. SEVEN YEARS. I used to be told that as long as it took me less than that I was fine. The thing is, they get on to me about graduating soon, and yet they don't pay for school. They don't care about my education. They forced me into a major I hate, and then decided to not support me. They didn't even ask what my grades were when I came home for Christmas. They don't care.

I'm used to this. I really am. They never asked in high school, because I would always offer the information. Because I was a good student in high school. I didn't need motivation. I was fine. Really. Not that I need "motivation" now, it's just really disheartening that they couldn't care less.

My parents do pretty well for themselves. My dad, however, is a tightwad. So, I can NEVER talk about money to them. Because if I paid $5 for something, he could have found it for $4. The only relationship I feel I have with them is financial. Honestly, that's how I feel sometimes.

My parents are not the parents I think I needed. Not saying that I'm not thankful for everything they have done and everything. But I feel like if I had more reliable parents with a more normal childhood, I wouldn't feel certain ways about stuff.

I really like a black guy I go to school with. I respected my parents enough to tell them that (even though they didn't ask). And even though there is nothing going on with him. I gave them the heads-up. It annoys me that they were so uptight about it.

I don't understand why they hate a group of people. I don't understand why a lot of people hate certain groups of people. My parents, either of them, have never had a bad experience with a black person (that they have told me about, at least). So, why do they hate them? Because their parents did. Great example. If we all lived like that we would all be combo chain-smoking, gun toting, alcoholic bi-polar people. Everyone has a black sheep of their family. In my family, I'm the black sheep because I'm accepting of other people and ideas. That feels odd to me.

It also worries me a bit because my brother used to be just like me, then he got married, settled down and he either wanted dad to like him so he started doing everything we hated as kids, or he actually changed his morals and ideals to this closed-minded horrible lifestyle. Wanting to stay holed up in his house and not meet new people, become further educated or experience new things. I don't think I'll ever be like this, but what if my brother said that five years ago?

* I just tried to read this, but it's getting heavy for me. I need a break. I'm going to post this now, though. I don't care who sees it...I need to get this out for me. *







**This is not a pity story, it is me sharing my feelings and frustrations.**