It is time for me to write the obligatory “About Me” post. Interesting concept, the “About Me.” Isn’t really that the whole of what is going on with every post? Small little insights about the person doing the writing? But I suppose leaving it that way would be intentionally divergent without accomplishing purpose. There is a lot of value in providing the overview of background for context.
Because I am a writer, I have written a lot of these over the years. Whenever there is a new situation, writing space, or drought, this topic is always the easiest to go back to as it is the one that I am usually most familiar with.
16 years ago, give or take a few months, I was a seriously active Toastmaster member. I loved that stuff. If you are familiar at all, you know one of the first talks you give is about yourself. That talk became one of the favorite things I have ever written. I’ll put it in its original form somewhere.
But I have decided I am not going to start all over for my “set a timer for 5 minutes and write about yourself” exercise from This Time Next Year day three. (Yes, I skipped day 2. I can’t draw for shit and nobody wants to see that.) Instead I am going to break all the rules from day three and edit the shit outta what I already wrote and take whatever time I need to do it. I do what I want.
Interesting note (if not for you the reader then to myself for reflection later) ~ I haven’t read through this in quite sometime. Therefore, I am not real sure what’s gotta be changed, updated, added. In other words, I really hope this turns out.
Without further ado ~ the 2016 edition…
My father’s people call me Hapa Haoli. The words are Hawaiian; Hapa, meaning half, and Haoli meaning, white or mainlander. My mother is a beautiful Georgia Peach with the hair and freckles of the Irish and my dad is strong Hawaiian with salt water in his veins and sand in his hair. Both cultures are so rich with family tradition. You could say that I am a southern transplanted Hawaiian with a strong sense of family.
I am a southerner by heart, by speech, and by eats. There is nothing about the south I don’t like. From cornbread to grits, a hundred degree weather to 100 percent humidity. I have a drawl, I say ya’ll and a cook with so much ham hock and butter my vegetables are unhealthy. I say ma’am and sir and I can tell you, with pretty good accuracy, where yonder is. I love family reunions, weddings at the bride’s Grandma’s house, and azaleas in the springtime. I love the way southern people don’t move to fast, the way we take the time to say hello and smile. The way we take things easy – we really have no choice – most of the time it is too hot to do anything fast. Most of the colleges aren’t as big, but the football is great. Most of the doctor’s aren’t as rich, but she knows my history without my chart. My history, my momma’s, my two sisters my aunt, our neighbor – you get the point. I wouldn’t give up my Southern roots for all the tea in China – because we drink ours sweet and I don’t think they do.
I am Hawaiian by birth. My father comes from a family whose tree is planted firmly in the sands that are Hawaii. My father makes it a point to impress upon us the importance of the Hawaiian blood. Its traditions are rich and family important. I don’t have any Hawaiian friends. They are all family. They are not Mr. and Mrs. They are Auntie and Uncle. Our strength is in our Mana, the life spirit that comes from our ancestors before us. The force in our spirits that connect us to the land, the water, and each other. When the Mana is strong, there is nothing a person can’t do. The Mana of my dad, the mana he has passed on to me, is the central force of who I am.
In Hawaii, you are of the land or you are a visitor. There is no place in a Hawaiian’s heart for disrespect of the islands. The land is sacred. It is a part of the history of the people and as such has embedded upon its children the love and respect due to an honored parent. My father has done his best to keep traditions alive. It has been hard since we live so far away, but he has done well. My sisters and I can cook some of the more common dishes such as luau luau and lomi salmon, and we all dance the hula (albeit some better than others). The distance between the place I was born and the place I was raised is great, but they are both home.
My family is my rock. I believe that even without oxygen, my family could sustain me. The people in my tree define who I am. My mother has given me the courage to withstand all things. She has taught me the meaning of integrity and perseverance. She showed me how wisdom was important and that taking a stand was cool. She gave me the permission to open my mouth in protest as long as I remember that everyone deserves respect. My father gave me the backbone to follow through. He taught me that who you are is shown more by what you do than what you say, who you know or what you have. Together they showed me that nothing is more important than waking up every morning knowing you were loved unconditionally. I now have my own children to love unconditionally.
My two oldest children are nearly grown. One is already an adult child who has launched into the world in beautiful fashion I could not be more proud. The other is an amazing free spirit who is still changing and growing. Watching this child become the person she was meant to be has been like watching one of the great transformations. My two littles are only 11 months apart. As close as they are in age, they are like sun up and sun down – both beautiful and glorious yet on completely opposite ends of the earth.
These children feed me life. As much as parents are supposed to teach their children, they have taught me more. They have showed me that most answers are simple and most hurts can be cured by a hug and an ice cream. I now know that folded clothes, if left unattended for a second, will need to be folded again and dirt has radar. I have also learned that their best chance of becoming wonderful adults involves being around wonderful adults. In this they have shown me the kind of person I strive to be.
I have the best friends. They are like a bouquet of flowers – each different and colorful and bringing incredible life into my world. I love them dearly. They are more than friends, they are fellow journeyers. They walk with me down my life’s path and allow me to experience theirs.
My personality evolves everyday. With each new experience my repertoire changes. I grow and learn and increase myself. But who I am, where I am from and the things I hold important are as certain as Georgia Heat, Hawaiian Surf and the roots that have been nurtured by each.
If I had treated somebody this way, I would owe them an apology. Today I apologize to me. I am sure I will be abusive to myself again. Unfortunately it is a habit at this point. It’s just going to take some time to change. But I love me and I have patience with me. I have the amazing good fortune of knowing my intentions for myself. I have forgiven others more while knowing less. I can afford to offer the same to The Many…to the Me.
