My #nomakeupmovement

“There’s a part of me that likes shoes, and likes dresses, and likes makeup, and likes books, and likes to write. I think that’s the case for many women. But our culture makes us think we have to choose slices of ourselves that we’re comfortable showing the world.” -Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

As often happens, our family dinner conversation took a strange turn. We were discussing cultural grooming practices. “Female shaving has been used historically to keep women in a visually infantile and docile state.” This is the kind of statement I will pick up from my colleagues and deliver to my critical, rowdy audience of three as we dine on soup and applesauce. My eleven year old son immediately slapped palm to forehead. “Geez, Mom! Then you might as well be upset that I can run around without a shirt but Lila can’t.” Clearly, my message was received.

We have heard a great deal about women and feminism in the news of late. The media has highlighted concerns of “how we will explain things to our daughters.” Women have also been making waves in the entertainment industry. In a stunning display of natural beauty, Alicia Keys released a new album with her makeup-free face gracing the cover. Her #nomakeupmovement has taken social media by storm. In “Time to Uncover,” her essay for the website Lenny, she explores her epiphany:

“'Cause I don't want to cover up anymore. Not my face, not my mind, not my soul, not my thoughts, not my dreams, not my struggles, not my emotional growth. Nothing.”

It is a message of empowerment and newfound self-awareness.

I rarely wear makeup myself. It is actually more noteworthy to document days that I do take the time to prep my face for an audience. My hair is only further proof of my unbecoming. My mane is long, unruly and usually in need of a good shampooing but can be pulled together in a big beautiful mess on top of my head. I spend about 80% of my life in workout clothes. If success was based on dress, I would be a sorry disappointment. So, it would be hard to not draw parallels to my life. 

But I don’t think Keys’ message stops at her clean, unfiltered face. She has stripped down her walls of protection and is showing her truth: the good, the bad and the ugly (although I have yet to see anything ugly about her). She has realized the infinite power that comes from learning to listen to herself. She is not going to let society or industry expectations dictate her choices. Her transformation represents ownership and a deliberate seizing of power.

In an article for New York Magazine, Stella Bugbee reflects upon Hillary Clinton’s choice to show her face sans make-up at a post-election press conference after months of wearing a calculated, political mask and hairstyle:

“Obviously, liking lipstick doesn’t disqualify us from participating in feminism or having a career — and it certainly doesn’t distract us from our work or the important issues of the day...But there is no denying the power and freedom in rejecting vanity.”

Power and freedom seem to be an emerging theme. Choice and individual preference rise over societal, cultural or political expectations.

I am not advocating for women to stop shaving or wearing makeup. I am, however, advocating that we stop and consider what drives our choices. Rosie Molinary, friend and author of Beautiful You: A Daily Guide to Radical Self-Acceptance, goes as far as to say, “Beauty standards are a political issue. If you are obsessed, you are oppressed.” When I am rushing to get dressed and groomed for a day at work, and my nine year old daughter says, “Mom, you care too much what people think,” I feel the need to explain myself. How do I show her young, impressionable mind that it is my choice to look a certain way in my career? I choose to dress in a particular manner when teaching in the classroom, but in most of life, or when I coach at our CrossFit affiliate, I choose a natural look. I consider myself to be a multi-faceted person with many roles, and I am okay showing different sides of myself. It does not necessarily imply that I am hiding my true self in my professional life.

It is incredibly tempting to just toss my makeup and throw scarves over my untamed locks in solidarity with Alicia, all the while belting out, “This girl is on FIY-AH,” but personal grooming preferences are just scratching the surface. The ways I choose to execute my power and freedom should be visible in the fabric of my everyday life. “Just because” or “That is how we have always done it,” simply do not suffice as responses for how we live our lives. I must demand more of myself. For now, I will continue to shave my legs and occasionally wear makeup because that is my choice. It is not necessary for my legs to look like my dad’s in order to pull off some grand gesture of feminism. But I will try to be present and pay better attention to the motivations driving my day to day decisions. I can begin by examining the framework surrounding my role as a woman in our current culture. There is no shortage of issues beckoning analysis. I'm with you, Alicia. Let's uncover some truth.

Alicia Keys. Her album "Here" is now available.

Dumbest One in the Room

“Don't be afraid to be confused. Try to remain permanently confused. Anything is possible. Stay open, forever, so open it hurts, and then open up some more, until the day you die, world without end, amen.” ― George Saunders, The Braindead Megaphone

“I love it when I’m the dumbest one in the room!”

My students, who never really know what to expect when I open my mouth, erupted in laughter. I figured I should elaborate. I explained that I enjoy putting myself in situations where I am surrounded by much more informed and intelligent people than myself. It is humbling and empowering at the same time. “You absolutely, positively, have to learn to ask questions,” I pleaded. It is the only way we can grow and figure things out for ourselves.

My younger self was not comfortable being the dumbest person in the room. I needed to play it cool and act like I knew what I was doing. As a young teacher, we were taught that students, like animals, could sense fear. We had to act like we knew what we were doing, even if we did not. It was survival of the fittest. To ask questions was to reveal uncertainty - that you did not hold all the answers. Asking questions was a sign of weakness.

With age and experience, I have come to realize the limits of my own understanding. Admitting when I don’t know something only opens up an opportunity to learn and deepen my knowledge of humanity and the world around me. When I am the dumbest person in the room, I can release the sense of obligation accompanied with being an “expert” or guardian of some absolute truths. The teacher becomes the pupil, and I no longer have to hold all the answers. I listen, question, probe and wrangle with ideas and theories I learn from my surroundings.

In my profession as a college instructor, I am surrounded by colleagues who are experts in their fields. My office is located on a hall filled with faculty who teach history, economics, sociology, English, religion, psychology and anthropology. It is fertile soil for growth and continued education. I engage in conversation with these people almost every day. I am on committees and in clubs with these intellectuals. They are artists, social activists, world travelers, dancers, musicians, poets, writers and so much more. While I have my strengths and areas of expertise, most days I knowingly sit at the table as the dumbest one in the room.

When I first met one of these fellow faculty members, I assumed he was a pretentious, stuffy professor based on the fact that he was very reserved  and seemed to only speak in theoretical  jibber jabber. In time, I began engaging in conversation with him about teaching, art, books and current events. With each conversation, I came away with some new idea or concept on topics ranging from cultural grooming practices to religious theories.  I used to feign understanding and nod when he started talking of Socialism, Marxism or Capitalism, but these days, I have become much more transparent. I am quick to tilt my head in a dumb, labrador retriever manner and ask, “Huh?” He always explains, and with each conversation, I become a little less ignorant.

In other areas of my life, I am also reminded of just how little I know and understand. In her recent interview for NPR’s “Fresh Air,” author Zadie Smith described parenthood as a chance for humiliation. “Humiliation because we have so many ideas about ourselves, and children are here to destroy all of them one by one.” Yes, as a parent I am frequently reminded that there is just so much more to learn. Even what I think I understand often comes tumbling down when I am confronted with questioning or a need to explain my beliefs to an unrelenting eleven year old. In these cases, I do my best to exemplify my dedication to a life of learning. The journey will never be complete, and I can be open in revealing I still have so much more to learn.  

I will admit that I do have my moments of expertise. When my colleagues need to know how to squat, deadlift, make healthy food choices, or rally any kind of enthusiasm, I am their person. But ultimately, I am irresistibly drawn to the moments when I sit back and comfortably assume the role of dumbest person in the room. I often say that if it was feasible, I would stay in school for the rest of my life. I absolutely love being a student, and for now, the world will have to be my classroom. My curriculum is an evolving compilation of books, films, articles and various art forms introduced by the people around me. My book shelves are lined with titles suggested by fellow parents, colleagues, CrossFit community members, friends and online acquaintances. At the heart of my personal development, the critical thinker in me demands that I ask questions and listen. William Butler Yeats said, “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.” After spending my early years trying to fill that pail, my present self is fully embracing this incendiary phase.

An Examined Life

You know the best way over's through

So if it matters let it matter…

They say you know it ain't easy

I wouldn't want it to be

Cause ease is for the shallow

But we were from the deep

Johnnyswim - “Let It Matter”

I was sitting in my office on Thursday solving the world’s problems with my colleague/soul sister/writing partner. “Maybe things have always been this hard, and we are just becoming more aware as we get older,” I whined. Then I had to look up the Socrates quote about how the unexamined life is not worth living. I couldn’t remember the exact source, but I knew it was important and fitting. Yes, maybe that is the answer. We are just becoming wise - deep thinkers in our old age. (I can hardly type this statement with a straight face).

Then I stumbled upon a quote from Glennon Doyle Melton:

“I understand now that I’m not a mess but a deeply feeling person in a messy world. I explain that now, when someone asks me why I cry so often, I say, ‘For the same reason I laugh so often - because I’m paying attention.’”

I did a double take. Did I write this? I wish I wrote this. Her words say exactly what I have been trying to verbalize for weeks. I have claimed and owned my beautiful mess, but what I am feeling is not my mess alone; it is the whole big mess of this world, and I have just recently started paying attention.

I have been completely seized by the idea of being present, making each moment count, loving my here and now. Too many years have slipped away in my busy, Type A fulfillment of duties and to-do lists, so I am putting on the brakes and changing my approach to living, for my sake and my family’s sake. But along the way, I discovered the real kicker that Melton is mentioning. You can’t be present for all the beauty in life without noticing the bumps and deep canyons along the way. When you are truly training your mind and heart to pay attention, you must learn to see and feel it all. You must learn to drop the filters and fully embrace vulnerability.

As a young adult, it was easy to limit my field of vision. I tended to focus on myself - my goals, my plans and my immediate desires. I had a very narrow, small view of the world and people around me. With age, motherhood, ailing parents, soul searching, and intentional self-improvement, I have learned to open my eyes and heart to much more right here in my present, everyday life. While I feel more whole than I ever have in my 37 years, I am also completely exposed and vulnerable. As Melton mentions, I do laugh a lot, but I also have 2-3 tear-filled meltdowns per week. When a student, co-worker, friend, parent or child is hurting, I am right there with them in that moment. If I am genuinely paying attention, how in the world could I not be affected? I feel it all in a deep way.

Some days, it’s as though I have the crushing weight of the world on my shoulders, and I cave or break. I crack open and all the emotions come flooding out. I cannot even count the number of times I have cried to my friends about all of my worries after finishing a grueling workout. Perhaps I use all my energy moving weight, so then I have to spill out my insides to my box mates. My younger self would perceive these emotional outbursts as weak or lacking self-control. I would tell her to worry about her own self because she is missing the forest for the trees. She is worrying about what other people think, limiting her own ability to participate and be fully present in her life and the lives of her loved ones. She needs to pay attention.

Maybe my friend and I were on to something. We are living an examined life, and it is completely exhausting and all-consuming. We have to talk each other through our kids’ meltdowns and heartbreaks, coach each other through helping students at our job, push each other to read and write for creative expression, and participate in our community and world as informed citizens who are paying attention in the most important ways. We laugh and cry, but we face life and this messy world head on. We watch and read about issues of inequality, injustice, racism, sexism, sickness, heartache, abuse and poverty in the world, occasionally even washing up on the shores of our lives. We stand ready with open hearts and use our positions as mothers, teachers, friends and humans to help if even in the tiniest ways. Mary Oliver writes, “May I be the tiniest nail in the house of the universe, tiny but useful.” There can be no action without acknowledgement and awareness. Examining our lives and surroundings enables us to be present and ready to help whenever possible. Even if we feel broken at times, we can do our best to show up and be useful.

We begin a semester in green...a new
beginning. 

I will humbly thank Melton for giving words to exactly what I have been feeling. It’s possible to be both whole and broken by a messy world all at the same time. I can let my light shine through all the deep cracks and splits ripped through my heart each time I get a call about my dying mother, a student who was abused, a friend who has cancer, or my child struggling to find his/her place in this big, scary world. My soul sister and I can make broken look beautiful as we stand with our heads held high fearlessly embracing life in the moment. We can, indeed, live an examined, messy, authentic life that is totally worth all the tears we might shed along the way.