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Resistance is Futile? June 3, 2011

Posted by sarahsfate in My Own Personal Trials, PostADay2011, Thoughts on People.
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Tonight I attended my oldest nephew's high school graduation commencement. While I was too pregnant to attend my own high school graduation, today I sat in a coliseum chair beside hundreds of spectators and was instantly transported to the year I was eighteen years old. You think, at eighteen, that you have seen so much of life. I believe, no matter what people say, the first eighteen years of your life drag by at such a pace one will never experience a second time. Every moment of school, the friends made, the friends lost, the experience with bullies, the inspirational teachers, the parent drama...is so fresh in mind and so important. At eighteen, I felt my entire life had been one long struggle. Graduating high school and becoming an adult was akin to having an ankle chain unlocked...I was free. Free to do whatever I wanted, be whoever I wanted, go...wherever I wanted. It was my second cleaned slate. The theories, or hopes, I had at eighteen were much like the ones I heard in the coliseum tonight. Big career, special life, impacting the world...all things that were possible upon my eighteenth birthday. Man, the things I would do. And as I sat in that chair watching the hundred plus seniors walk across the stage, grinning at each other, so proud of their achievements thus far and full of dreams and hopes for the future, I tried to remain optimistic. It was strange how easily that feeling returned to me. That bubble of excitement in my chest, the butterflies of the unknown in my stomach, the sensation that this great big world I live in just became a little more available to me. I tried not to think about the dreams those kids have and how they'll shatter one day to be rebuilt into another dream that will also be shattered, only to be rebuilt, etc. Nothing ever turns out how you think it will turn out. At eighteen you think you know a thing or two about life -- it's why they really don't listen to anyone when someone tries to offer caution, which is why I keep my thoughts to myself. I also remain silent because I don't want to steal that feeling from anyone. Not ever. That feeling of overwhelming possibility will dissipate soon enough on its own and need not be hampered by any well-intentioned remarks from me.One of the valedictorians said her message to her fellow classmates was simple. Be. Just be. Be something, someone to anyone. It need not change the face of the world, impact society, or be some impossible feat. Just be. Most of what she said afterwards flew over my head because I stared unseeingly into the mass of spectators around me wondering when it was that I became so caught up in the day-to-day mundane existence of a whole while forgetting to be me. An individual. When I stopped dreaming. When I stopped attempting to be whoever I wanted, do whatever I wanted, go wherever I wanted. When did I lose sight of the eighteen-year old me? Somewhere along the road since high school graduation I forgot that I meant to do something. I didn't even remember enough to be aware that I forgot.

I know there are innumerable ways to merge knowledge from Star Trek with real life…but here is one more way. The Borg, whom no one envies, are a collective hive of workers geared towards one common goal, moving in tandem at some unspoken command, without question, without dreams, without individuality. And sometime in the last 14 years I became one of the hive. I know there are circumstances and explanation aplenty about how and when I came to be where I am today but I hope, having remembered for just the smallest of moments who I used to be, that there is still a chance for me. I hope it is not too late to rediscover the old me. To discover those dreams and hopes. To live this free adult life the way I imagined I would, once upon a time.

More than that, I hope the Borg are wrong about resistance.

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