The first time I heard Slow Up by Jacob Banks, of his debut album Village, I had goosebumps and I may have had a tear slowly roll down my right cheek. It is thought-provoking and it brings up all of these memories and emotions of people that you connect with and makes you want to just call them up. It’s everything I love about storytelling – it’s power to connect us all because our condition is common. Read More
It was my birthday yesterday, I am officially 26 everybody and to be honest this is the first birthday where I feel different. It’s like I’ve unlocked something inside me in the past year and now, although I don’t know where I am going, I know who I am or at least I am owning who I am.
“We live in a society where the “nothing” (shopping, watching TV) has become a “something” and the “something” (relaxing, meditating, sharing) has become a void in need of being filled.” – Frank Barat, On Palestine
When I look inward as to who I am and what I stand for, I’ve always been met with a sense of peace, an anchor. I guess I’m blessed that I had parents that never imposed their ideas or identities on me, but rather just let me learn my way through life. Read More
I sit with nothing but silence around me. Cross-legged on the floor, I close my eyes and try to focus on the furthest sound I can hear. Nothing. There’s just the machine hum of the air conditioner above me. The thoughts in my mind feel more like a conversation, what feels like hundreds of different topics, ideas, to-do lists…God there is so much to do. Let’s try this again. Read More
In the Somali culture, we carry our forefather’s name like an ID card; you have your name, your father’s name and then your grandfather’s etc etc etc. In my case, ‘Id’/’Ciid’/’Eid’, is my great-grandfather’s name and it’s also the kind of name that hits you with a spotlight when you’re in certain places…this town I’ve moved to is one of those places. Less than 2 hours in the country and at least 3 different people had figured out who my family is, and all I could do was that awkward tight-liped smile with a gentle nod of the head to confirm.
There are certain dreams and memories that will forever imprinted in who who we are – for me a defining one has definitely been to go to the country that I’m from. So as I sit here a whole 25 years old about to move to country that I know nothing about besides the nostalgia that has come with being the daughter of immigrants, I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t an emotional wreck the past couple of days. I mean yes listening to Kelly Clarkson’s ‘Breakaway’ is doing absolutely nothing to help balance the tears but I really have never felt anxiety like this.
“I feel old”
“I feel like I should have accomplished so much more”
“I have no idea what I’m doing”
I’m 25 today.
I remember getting a call from the founder of an online women’s magazine who wanted to talk to me about potentially working with them, after a friend of mine had sent examples of my work to her. I walked into their offices and we had a chat about what I was interested in and what they were looking for. The conversation ended with being told that my writing was too ‘intellectual’ and although they would read and enjoy my work they weren’t sure their demographic, young women in country X, would be. They wanted to focus more on snappy love & sex, fashion and celebrity news pieces and not only did I feel some way about the sweeping generalization that their demographic didn’t want susbstance, I was also left conflicted because I needed my foot in the door but felt like I would be doing myself a disservice, not to mention they called me after having seen my work.