It has the uniquely horrible ability to inflict masses of people and blind them from seeing any potential beauty or art.
This unfortunate condition inevitably inhibits any person from acceptance of other cultures or other beliefs. Ignorance is not bliss – it is destructive.
On Friday night, I received word of an attack committed against the parents of a friend of mine. Initially in disbelief, I learned that my friend Trisha Ahmed’s father, Avijit Roy, had visited Bangladesh to attend a book fair. He was a blogger and writer of secularism who had been inspiring a plethora of freethinkers around the world for years.
Roy’s life work garnered the attention of Islamic extremists in Bangladesh who waited for he and his wife, Rafida Bonya Ahmed, after the book fair. It was then that these machete-wielding extremists murdered my friend’s dad and wounded her mother.
These people were so riddled with misunderstanding; their hatred was fueled by nothing less than pure, unadulterated ignorance.
Roy was not unaware of the response people like these extremists had to his writing, yet he was not discouraged, and his passion remained unwavering. Unaffected by their ignorance, Roy continued his work even when he received death threats, pursuing what he was passionate for. It is because of this that Avijit Roy was forced to give his life – for never concealing or abandoning his beliefs.
The radical assailants who murdered Trisha’s dad have come forward, yet have not been prosecuted. This disconnect in the justice system of Bangladesh would hardly even be fathomable in the United States and many other Western nations.
Our society recognizes injustices such as the manslaughter of Roy’s and we treat such atrocities accordingly.
However, without global recognition of the killing of Avijit Roy, it is likely that his death is never brought to trial and his murderers go unpunished, which cannot be ignored by the international community. Regrettably, the death of my friend’s dad is simply one example of countless injustices that infect our world – don’t let the disease spread.
If you stand for nothing, you will fall for anything. Share the story. Reduce the ignorance.
There have been many times in my life where there was good and bad leadership. Whether it was in a classroom or playing sports, leadership played a big role in my life.
I was able to watch the leaders throughout my life and learn from their good ideas and bad mistakes. According to Jim Collins, in his book GOOD TO GREAT, there are five different levels of leadership. The leadership is ranked from level 1, being the most common, yet least effective leader, to level 5 which is the most effective. It isn’t until level 5 leadership where a leader really stands out.
These are the rarest group of leaders. Level 5 leaders build lasting greatness. They tend to blame mistakes on themselves when something goes wrong, and value others when things go well. These leaders have no ego and put their company before their selves. I can relate the idea of five level leadership to the leaders I have grown up with in my life. They mostly consist of players and coaches on sports teams. I played football my whole life and throughout high school. I had witnessed the culture of our program change from when I joined the team as a freshman, to the last game of my senior year. Throughout the years I played, I was able to identify the type of leadership that went on.
Because of the leadership, the program went from being one of the best to one of the worst.
On this team I was able to identify level 1 to level 4 leadership. The level 1 leaders were the players who sat on the bench, but helped make practice effective. Theses players used their little amount of skills to contribute to the team. The level 2 leaders consisted of the players who started on the team and played the most. These players used their capabilities to achieve goals for the team. They were the ones out on the field winning the games. The level 3 leaders where some of the players who labeled themselves as “captains”.
The captains led the stretching lines and spoke at team meetings, but some of them weren’t respected by other players. Captains who were respected and had players believe in them were the level 4 leaders. They were helping the team build a culture to become better. Their teammates wanted to play for them. Level 5 leadership was attempted but failed by the Athletic Director of the school.
This mistake inevitably caused the program to nosedive.
Our head football coach became Athletic Director when I was a junior in high school and put us in a harder division. Our team was playing harder teams and each year we kept losing talent. This caused the team to lose more games and less students wanted to play. Players started to not show up at practice and because we were a small school, it didn’t look good with the program. I would consider our coach as a level 4 leader because he cared about the football program and wanted it to be a great one.
He made people believe that he can make the program strong, but his ego took over, and his self–interest of wanting the program to be more than what it was caused it to fail. If he was a level 5 leader he would have put the program back into the weaker division, but his ego got the best of him. He was unable to take the blame for the mistake and do what’s right for the team.
I believe that if our coach drops his ego and turns the program around, he can potentially become a level 5 leader. He is an alumni of the high school and grew up in the town. He cares about the team and its reputation because he has been coaching for over 15 years.
Level 5 leaders are usually found within the organization and that is where he comes from. This will be difficult to achieve though because there is less talent on the team and the amount of players are diminishing.
They come in different colors, textures, patterns, sizes, prices, and brands. The joy that I get when opening or trying on a new pair is just unexplainable. The fresh smell, the never been worn aspect and bright colors, untouched by nature, is just so enamoring.
It’s like being knighted from the queen, being told you’ve inherited fortunes from a relative you never knew you had. It’s like winning 20 Grammys in one night, showing Adele that she isn’t the only one killin’ em, ooh.
Shoes bring joy and something to talk about with a complete stranger. A culture movement or cultural clash that you can argue about. A forever changing and unstoppable evolution.
Culture has always been a big part of my life. As a youngster, my parents raised me to learn the importance of the Greek from which my family originated. In turn, I learned about other peoples’ cultures, too.
I wasn’t always surrounded by a sea of vibrant cultures and foreign languages, however. I lived a large portion of my early childhood in the rural suburbs of Louisville, Kentucky: the land of horses, bluegrass, and baseball bats. While it was a fine upbringing, I didn’t experience much cultural diversity other than familial Greek customs. I wouldn’t be exposed to the beauty that other cultures had to offer until I was at the ripe age of 7, when my Dad got relocated to Atlanta, Georgia for his job at UPS.
I didn’t expect much from moving to Georgia. In my head, it was just another city down south, akin to Kentucky in terms of diversity. One 6-hour car ride later, we were living in a town on the outskirts of Atlanta called Johns Creek, affectionately called “Johns Korea”. My family had moved to a massive cultural hub where there were people of all nations everywhere around me. Down the street, there was a massive Asian market (H-Mart). Russian and Persian groceries were also present, and there were plenty of middle-eastern bakeries and restaurants.
Johns Creek was where I did the largest portion of my growing up. It was a place that, while sometimes boring and extremely suburban, was still full of intrigue from all kinds of people.
After school, especially in my younger days, I would often hang out at a friend’s house for a few hours before dinner. Many of my friends were Indian, Korean, Chinese, Scandinavian, Italian, Pakistani, or Iranian, and their cultures were vastly different than what I had been previously used to. Within their homes were sometimes entire rooms devoted to religious ornaments or other cultural amenities I had never seen before. It was a wonderland. I would walk through friends’ houses looking at all the unfamiliar statues, ornaments, pictures, and furniture, while wonderful wafts and scents floated from the kitchen, which eventually turned out to be an awesome snack.
I continued living like this, saturated by massive amounts of diverse cultures surrounding me. This saturation followed me through high school, but everything changed a bit after I graduated and went to college. Don’t get me wrong, UGA has a pretty wide degree of diversity, but it wasn’t what I was used to back home.
As a freshman in college, I craved a diverse setting similar to home.
That craving followed me around until sophomore year, when I was in the market to join an organization and actually do something with myself. My friend Nisha (shout out!) almost immediately blurted out, “Hey, join AIESEC!” I had heard plenty about it from her, and it seemed like a good enough cause to be a part of, but I still wasn’t entirely sure, at least not until I met the people involved.
After I joined, I remember being at the first Local Committee Meeting, walking in and seeing all the members talking and laughing with each other. I can honestly say that I felt entirely at home at that moment. There were more cultures around me than I knew what to do with, and I couldn’t wait to soak it all in, and learn so much more. AIESEC provided a home for me, as well as some cultural respite that I desperately needed.
We all might be from entirely different backgrounds, and have our contrasts between each other, but I absolutely call these people my family.
Not only are they there for me through thick and thin, but through them, and all the other AIESECers I’ve met through them (believe me, there are a lot), they continue to give me the remainder of the cultural upbringing that I need, satisfying my hunger for knowledge about the many people of the world, and their ways of life.
Sitting in the airport awaiting my 5’o’clock flight I was anxious, nervous, and totally unaware of the adventure about to take place. I arrived in Florence unsure. Unsure about what I was doing, unsure about spending 4 months in a foreign country without my closest people, unsure about my relationships and myself.
It took me a while to realize I had this giant opportunity at my feet and it was up to me and me alone to make it either the greatest lesson of all time or a measly, elongated vacation. I chose the first.
Stumbling through cobble-stoned streets in my worn out converse under lines of laundry and open windows, I found myself.
I found a home in a dated apartment with 7 other girls all on the same journey. At nights, I planned my weekends away, filling my calendar with trips to places I had no idea would leave such an impact on me. I met the most wonderful people and experienced first-hand the most beautiful cultures. Strangers taught me more about life than my entire school curriculum ever has. (But I promise I still learned school things mom and dad.)
However, every day wasn’t picture perfect like it was portrayed via social media. I experienced some of my toughest battles while abroad, and being thousands of miles away from my support system was not ideal then. But that’s when I learned the most.
Time and conflict are not compatible. Life doesn’t throw you your toughest days when it’s convenient for you. It was then that I learned how strong I really am. I learned that I couldn’t control other people, but I could control how I let them affect me. So I refused to let the bad ones get to me, not when I was surrounded by so much beauty and opportunity.
I had the opportunity to waste my days abroad in a fumbled mess trying to put back the pieces of something so broken, but instead I chose to build something new.
I convinced myself that there was something so good to be seen in every single day, I just had to go find it. Whether it was something big like riding ATV’s along the coast of Santorini, or just eating a really awesome Panini, it was there, and it was important. My mind and my heart were stretched to new lengths. I found new wonders and treasures I will cherish forever, like my hideaway church on top of a lonely hill in Italy, or that hole in the wall restaurant where the owners know you by name. So sitting here throwing out my worn out shoes, I’m actually proud. I’m so proud of the places they took me and the memories made in them.
It came and went faster than it should have. There were so many pictures taken and “storage too full notifications”, so many 40 euro flights I wasn’t convinced were going to ever reach the ground again, and so, so many new friends and new memories that would be showcased on social media, but would never actually reveal the true depth of the moment. Many feelings came to play throughout my months, but the one I found most consistent was gratitude. Every day, I thank my lucky stars that I had this opportunity to see the moon from a new side of the world, to fulfill a part of me that’s been missing for a while, I just had to go find it.
I’ll never truly be able to properly put into words how much this experience meant to me, but if I tried to sum it up I’d do it with my favorite over-used quote of the trip:
My buddy Pmang told me I needed to interview this rapper. Told me he was one of the most talented lyricists he’d ever heard.
NICE (a.k.a. Nyuanru), 20-years-old, born and raised on the streets of Providence, Rhode Island.
Well, shit. I had to find this guy.
I was down but the problem was he didn’t have a computer or a phone. He’s so underground you barely see his Melkavine cap popping out of the ground. In a beaten up white Honda with creaky doors we drove around East and North Providence, checking his normal spots. My buddy hit up a few of his friends but no one could find him. Wasn’t around Providence College, nowhere near La Salle Academy, his old high school, not around the mall. So I thought it was pointless and I’d be going back to Connecticut. But Pmang had the idea of swinging around his house. I swear we graduated college.
From the first listen, NICE has this lyrical emphasis with a voice that echoes Common and Mos Def. Check out the rapid fire angst coming from his feature verse in the Afro-Americana centric track, “HEAV7N.”
But while there is a definite political punch to his lyrics and delivery, he has a Millennial vibe. Several artists these days talk about broad concepts or subject matter and just insert themselves like they’re playing Mad Libs. Like how Future harps on getting fucked up and the auto-tuned language of the short term high along with heavy machismo. Contrastly, NICE offers a deeply autobiographical tone.
He spits about the uncertainties of being a young black man trying to form a craft that might not payoff.
On one line he’ll talk about how he hustles to keep the tracks coming, getting the tapes out there, and he’ll pivot the other way proclaim he has no idea what it all means, saying “Only Lord Knows.” It’s a new type of poetic storytelling that relies on how men are opening up about their emotional struggles. NICE is on that wave. But by no means is he soft.
NICE and Travis $cott.
We pulled up to a one floor house, looked like a three-bedroom made from light brick in a neighborhood built in the 70s that hadn’t changed much. Pmang blared on the horn and NICE popped his head out. He had a big smile and came roaring out.
He wore this black leather jacket with a hood and dark blue jeans. He was a bit confused to see me. Like he sort-of recognized me. Last time we met I was at an impromptu concert at a club in North Providence. Pmang and I were the only white people in attendance. Guess we stuck out. The sky was overcast and grey and gave the whole city a grit that wanted to shake your hand.
I pulled out my voice recorder. Told him I was here for an interview. Thought I might not get another chance.
He was a little off-put with how eager I was to start, probably thinking who the hell is this guy. After I dropped how we’d met before, guy greeted me like an old friend.
NICE first dipped his toes in the game when he went with Pmang to a concert at Lupo’s, a staple of Providence music. “I didn’t really go to concerts because it’s weird for me,” NICE continued, “I’m always overanalyzing so I don’t really get to enjoy it. But, I was chilling with [Pmang] and my cousin called me right then and told me ‘yo I got two extra tickets for A$AP Ferg and YG you have to come.’ Pmang and I love Ferg so it was like Fate.” After that, he wanted to drop bars full time.
As we drove around, Nyuanru slightly rocked back and forth. He kept eye contact answering each question. Even when we passed Chad Brown Street, where you see flashing red and blue four days out of the week. Sirens blared as they sped past us but he was focused, he wanted to get his point across. But what was that internal spark?
A dedication to his city.
“What really sparked it for me was that there really hasn’t been any major artists from Providence that have made much of an impact in a long time. I mean, I just found out the guy who did George Washington’s presidential portrait was from Rhode Island. Which isn’t bad at all but I can’t name anyone off the top of my head from Providence who’s had much of a cultural impact, especially when it comes to music. I want to be that guy.”
He started hanging around the rap scene, learning from them, getting close, dabbling in freestyles with his own personal approach. That propelled him to want to put Providence on the global scene.
His influences transcend generations of hip-hop because each source of inspiration centers around one thing, “Everyone I listen to like DMX, Eminem, Tupac and a whole bunch of other guys are more than music and they know that. It’s deeper than rap.”
NICE has this shade of the belligerent braggart similar to DMX because it’s essential for every rapper. But he weaves it so well with a polarizing commentary on race relations in tracks like “Go For Broke.”
Even the shape of his city has influenced his artistic development. Providence has its own type of strange. Everything is fifteen minutes from each other. Thayer Street by Brown University is full of restaurants, bars, and indie shops. And two blocks down you run into a collection of boarded up townhouses filled with squatters and hipsters who couldn’t make rent. It’s not like Chicago or New York with designated areas for certain demographics.
Providence is so small that the experiment of America as a melting pot came true, for good and bad. You could run into an investment banker and a clan of meth heads on the same street within seconds of each other.
With all these people on top of each other and the cross wiring of culture, race, and politics it’s no wonder Providence calls itself The Creative Capital. But hip-hop is just on the come up.
“It’s going to sound so cliché but Providence is just so new with rap and hip hop.”
“And I’m feeling like the industry is looking for the next best ‘question mark.’ Where people are browsing through music and they see us they think ‘what is that?’ We have no choice but to be original because people like me don’t have connections”
Then Pmang chimed in, “Basically if you’re not authentic. You’re not fucking with us.” Nyuanru nodded his head like he just found the words he needed. He then continued talking about Providence as a city and what it has to offer. NICE wants to bring all the artistry he can into the limelight.
“I think we’re all at a point where if we want to go anywhere, we have to stand out. I mean we get boxed in with all the other scenes in New England like Boston and New York and that just sucks. It’s time we carve out our own piece.”
One of the ways NICE and those associated with Melkavine stand above the fray is the web-series Free Verse, which he hosts. A series where he meets up with local Providence rappers and spits acapella freestyle. No beat. No prompt. Just raw language.
“I think each of these guys have so much to offer from a cultural stance, they were bred from this city. We want people to be a part of Free Verse because they have a voice. Not because they’ve got buzz or making dozens of tracks. I want the originals.”
As we drove to Pmang’s buddy’s place I could see NICE doesn’t fuck around.
Not just for himself but everyone he can bring along. He wants to be that X-factor who will bring a whole new wave of artists to invade the airwaves, similar to Top Dawg and Kendrick Lamar with the renaissance of Compton rappers. We passed by a parking lot and NICE told us to turn left, some of his friends were chilling.
One of them was another local talent named Messy Tye. Wearing a green veteran’s jacket with a blue bandana and short cut dreads, Tye is a soft spoken and humble guy away from the mic. But you should see this guy spit. Glad I had space on my phone for this.
NICE and I leaned against Pmang’s white Honda as the sun went down. From the look on Messy’s face, he was reassured that he did what he loved right then and there. So I asked Nyuanru what was that one song or lyric or verse that made him decide to go all in with the hustle.
He rubbed his chin with both hands and thought hard, “It’s this track called ‘Movin’ On’. (that’s only a little taste) And honestly it wasn’t until I performed it that I knew what this track could actually do. Because, it was supposed to be a throwaway. Not really a throwaway…but a filler to prep for a larger project. Unintentionally, or at least more than I expected, I put my emotions, parts of my past, and things I’d been going through into that track.
“Seeing how people connected with it when I performed, I mean, some people were crying or put two fingers in the air beating their chests.”
NICE performed Movin’ On at the Providence Arts Festival a few months back and he was shocked to see “once the strings came in and the beat dropped there was this whole mixed crowd, mixed races, cultures, nationalities, orientations, genders, just bobbing their heads. I brought people together. That’s when I knew I had something to offer. That was the moment.”
We’d gotten to the apartment and were sitting on the couch playing Beerio Kart. A few of Messy’s friends tagged along for what was certain to be a wild night. NICE wasn’t drinking, just chilled and watched us get sloshed without a hint of judgment on his face.
Young Thug was bumping in the background. NICE nodded slowly, playing with his hands like he was on a switchboard. He was in a zone and I had one more question left. A question I already knew the answer to, kind of.
I asked what he thought separated Nyuanru from the rest of the come-ups. “Basically what I want to do with music is push culture and open minds because I think that is what everyone with a craft wants to do.”
I liked the answer but I could tell there was uncertainty in his voice.
He didn’t have a definite reason. And I think that’s really good. From what I’ve seen when being around talented musicians, the ones meant for great things don’t have a message or a specific goal as to why they’re in the game. An artist just feels compelled to create because they have something to offer and can move people through their talents. From what I gathered NICE right now is in a spot where he doesn’t know exactly where the music is going but he wants to ride it. He’ll have time to solidify what he wants to bring to the studio. Right now, it’s all about the vibes and message of the moment.
About ten minutes later he asked to borrow my phone. He called a number as we all kept drinking, Mario Kart 64 wicking and wa-wa-wawing in the background. Once Nyuanru handed back my phone he tapped one of his friends and said he had to dip out for some studio time. He shook my hand and off he went. Back to the underground.
I don’t know when I’ll see him again but hopefully it’ll be backstage mobbing out to one of his beats. Sure hope he gets a phone.
Sitting in the airport awaiting my 5’o’clock flight I was anxious, nervous, and totally unaware of the adventure about to take place. I arrived in Florence unsure.
Unsure about what I was doing, unsure about spending 4 months in a foreign country without my closest people, unsure about my relationships and myself. It took me a while to realize I had this giant opportunity at my feet and it was up to me and me alone to make it either the greatest lesson of all time or a measly, elongated vacation. I chose the first.
Stumbling through cobble-stoned streets in my worn out converse under lines of laundry and open windows, I found myself.
I found a home in a dated apartment with 7 other girls all on the same journey. At nights I planned my weekends away, filling my calendar with trips to places I had no idea would leave such an impact on me. I met the most wonderful people and experienced first-hand the most beautiful cultures. Strangers taught me more about life than my entire school curriculum ever has. (But I promise I still learned school things mom and dad.)
However, every day wasn’t picture perfect like it was portrayed via social media. I experienced some of my toughest battles while abroad, and being thousands of miles away from my support system was not ideal then. But that’s when I learned the most. Time and conflict are not compatible.
Life doesn’t throw you your toughest days when it’s convenient for you.
It was then that I learned how strong I really am. I learned that I couldn’t control other people, but I could control how I let them affect me. So I refused to let the bad ones get to me, not when I was surrounded by so much beauty and opportunity. I had the opportunity to waste my days abroad in a fumbled mess trying to put back the pieces of something so broken, but instead I chose to build something new.
I convinced myself that there was something so good to be seen in every single day, I just had to go find it. Whether it was something big like riding ATV’s along the coast of Santorini, or just eating a really awesome Panini, it was there, and it was important. My mind and my heart were stretched to new lengths. I found new wonders and treasures I will cherish forever, like my hideaway church on top of a lonely hill in Italy, or that hole in the wall restaurant where the owners know you by name. So sitting here throwing out my worn out shoes, I’m actually proud.
I’m so proud of the places they took me and the memories made in them.
It came and went faster than it should have. There were so many pictures taken and “storage too full notifications”, so many 40 euro flights I wasn’t convinced were going to ever reach the ground again, and so, so many new friends and new memories that would be showcased on social media but would never actually reveal the true depth of the moment. Many feelings came to play throughout my months, but the one I found most consistent was gratitude. Every day I thank my lucky stars that I had this opportunity to see the moon from a new side of the world, to fulfill a part of me that’s been missing for a while, I just had to go find it.
I’ll never truly be able to properly put into words how much this experience meant to me, but if I tried to sum it up I’d do it with my favorite over-used quote of the trip:
I grew up most of my life fearful of sex and ashamed of the human form, particularly my own. My first encounter with sex was learning about what it was, “where babies come from,” in the fourth grade while playing Barbies at my neighbor’s house, when the bride and Ken were seemingly attacking one another naked. Appalled, I asked her why they were doing so before she explained what making love was.
When I asked my mother, a conservative, head-covered Muslim woman, about it later, she was upset with my curiosity and told me to hold off on questions until I was an adult. It was understandable, considering I was the eldest daughter of the first Arabian-American generation in our family, and the indubitable expectation was that I, and my siblings, would hold steadfast to tradition and religion.
Yet, I can’t help but wonder if I would have ended up the way I did if I had received answers instead of admonitions.
Fast forward to the fifth grade: my playground pal and I pretended to be strippers on the monkey bars and swing poles. I started buying triangle bras. Sixth grade: I began flirting with boys and they wrote me poems about “doing it.” Seventh grade: my first real crush that I dreamt about sleeping with. Upon entering high school, I developed multiple eating disorders in my attempts to gain control over my life and sexuality – and in the hopes that I would be appealing to the boys around me.
I was the rebellious one. I didn’t think so at the time, not in the slightest, but I was usually in trouble for one reason or another. My parents lived in the fear of my potential deviance and I lived in the fear of never feeling free.
Traditional Middle Eastern views are restrictive ones – I’ve read and expanded on theories that sexual repression is the most significant contributor to the oppressive culture permeating much of the Muslim world. Turning pleasure into a sin – in addition to anything that could conceivably lead to lustful thoughts, including integration of the sexes, equality for women, and revealing clothing – was and is how to control people. By making human nature inherently shameful.
My first kiss was at age sixteen, incredibly insecure and emotionally unstable enough to avoid relationships.
I made out with and lead on many guys following that first time, while I faked desire and experience as I gathered it; eventually, I grew feelings for two older men, entering unhealthy relationships that ended with their falling in love and wanting to get married. I promptly ended them, one after the other, and subsequently entered a deep depression. Not as a result of them, but due to the constant state of shame I was in, especially while experimenting and lying to my parents and those surrounding me.
I gained a lot of weight my senior year of high school. Even less comfortable in my own skin, I sought validation from anywhere. I hooked up with my best friend’s boyfriend, a promiscuous boy who loved her but loved my body.
I lost my technical virginity to a friend who fell for me after a night I got drunk and he didn’t, while feigning more experience in bed than I actually had. I started having sex with strangers, sometimes not knowing their names. I’d ignore their calls and texts afterwards. I slept with an ex-porn star and got so drunk I was raped twice. One guy I spent some nights with woke up in the middle of one night and gave it to me rectally, so I wouldn’t get pregnant without a condom, and woke me up with his orgasm before we just fell back asleep.
I liked sex, I genuinely did.
Even objectified, I got turned on by just about everything. I seriously considered posing nude, making porn videos, or escorting to turn it into a career. Not that I was proud of my body, but I liked how it could feel and make others feel. But I felt used, so used and abused. It wasn’t right and I knew it. I was still waking up every morning wanting to die, drinking until I felt dead and using sex as a means to feel a little bit alive.
After the unprotected anal, I got tested with all clean results and in my paranoia, took thirty days of anti-HIV medication, blessing the clinic that helped me get a thousand-dollar prescription at a steep discount.
I was still sleeping around until finishing the regimen, when I felt really forced to reflect on if this type of life was what I really wanted. Someone once said that trouble always found me, but that’s not true: I actively sought it. I went out of my way to not have sex for ten days, and while it wasn’t a relief I did feel slightly better knowing that I could in fact willingly go without it for some time.
I went back to my hometown about halfway through this past semester, and spent some time with my younger sister, who happens to be my best friend in the world. We have a lot in common, understandably; we share DNA and upbringing.
As cliché as it sounds, I realize that many of the mistakes I made allow her to learn from me instead of having to go through it all herself.
I was an extrovert to her introvert, and I was the problem child to her golden one. But we both had this bottomless sense of loneliness in our psyches, and paradoxically, we reveled in that loneliness together.
Through her, I began to realize that sex is not really a way to fill a void inside of my heart. And even if that I was a route I wanted to take, it shouldn’t bring me as much inner guilt and shame as it was.
I still have casual sex, but it’s no longer a compulsion. I see a counselor for other things going on in my life, but constant shame as a result of intimacy is no longer one of them.
As I write this piece, I am on a plane coming back from Iceland. I am the most sleep deprived I’ve ever been, I am wearing the same clothes I flew to Iceland in and I am pretty sure I am getting sick but my goodness…it was the best trip of my entire life.
Let’s take a step back to find out how I ended up in Iceland. In January of 2016, I was sitting at a restaurant in New York City at 2 in the morning with my friends Pooja and Vance. Pooja mentioned she was going to Iceland in a few months and invited us both to come. We said we’d love to go but I wrote it off in my mind because I did not think I would actually go.
Fast forward 1 month later, Pooja let’s me know she booked her tickets and wanted to know if I was coming. At the beginning of the year I had promised myself I would no longer make excuses on why I could not not travel. I am 21 and need to take advantage of the lack of responsibility I have in my life. I will not be in this position forever and I need to take advantage of it. With that being said, I was left with 2 choices:
Thank you Pooja for inviting me but make up a reason I could not go.
Stop being an idiot and book my ticket.
I chose the latter.
So how was Iceland? It was the most beautiful country I have ever visited. It was like something out of a movie. We drove all around the country and at one point there would be rocks and moss everywhere, the next minute we were right in the middle of a snow storm, drive a little farther and we were on top of rushing waterfalls, drive a little past that and we were having snow ball fights on glaciers. Words are useless, pictures give a glimpse of it’s beauty. The only thing I can say is GO TO ICELAND. Trust me…you won’t regret it.
Now, on to what I learned from my trip to Iceland:
Go into new situations with an open mind and no expectations.
Too often, when we try something new we go into that situation with preconceived judgments based off people we talk to or things we see. I had never been to Iceland before so when I did research I heard everything from it’s the best country in the world to I should never go visit.
Before I left, I promised myself I would have no expectations for the country based on other’s opinions. This allowed me to not be disappointed if it did not live up to my expectations. It’s one of the first times I’ve done this on a trip and it made the trip 10 times better because I was able to enjoy each new experience.
2. Epic adventures only happen if you make them happen.
There is only 1 person in your life that can make your life incredible. That person is you. During the trip I posted photos and videos on Snapchat, Instagram and Facebook. I received numerous messages of people saying, “Your trip looks incredible!” “I wish I could do that!” “I want to have your life!” Guys let me be clear. I am not rich, I am not staying in 5-star hotels, and I am not booking these adventures through some crazy expensive travel agency (Although Pooja and Connie did plan an awesome trip and could easily start their own agency!)
You can have these adventures too. You just have to go out and do it. Traveling to an unknown country is a scary thing to do but the pros will always outweigh the cons (if you have the right attitude). The only person that can change your life is you so get off your ass and start making your epic adventures happen. The way I approach life now is, “What are the stories I want to tell my grandchildren?” I want to inspire them to see the world, meet as many people as possible and make the most of what the world has to offer. If I want them to live life that way then I need to live life the same way. That’s the legacy I want to leave.
3. Traveling is a wonderful getaway when you are going through a difficult time in life.
Many people know this but I broke up with my girlfriend of 5 year’s in January of 2016. It has been the most difficult thing I have ever gone through. We’ve been broken up for almost 3 months and have not spoken once. I could sit here and say that I am doing fine but that would be a lie. I’ve coped in extremely unhealthy ways, I’ve had countless sleepless nights and I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster that does not seem to end.
In fact, the week leading up to Iceland might have been one of the hardest weeks yet. However, there is something about throwing snow balls at your friends on top of a glacier in Iceland that gets your mind off of your struggles.
Whether you’ve lost someone in your life, having trouble in your relationship, lost your job or suffering from depression, I urge you to plan a trip somewhere and break up the monotony that many people find themselves in on a daily basis. You don’t have to go away for weeks; I was only in Iceland for 5 days. I do believe it should be somewhere you haven’t been before and make sure you are doing physical activity while you are out there. It’s good for you mentally, emotionally and physically. Keep in mind, going away did not get rid of the pain. I still thought about the break up many times on my trip but it’s the most I’ve been able to get it off my mind in a long time.
4. Get comfortable with being uncomfortable.
Not many people know this (other than my wonderful Mother) but I HATE trying new things and being away from home. Seriously, I hate it. When I find something I like, I sink my teeth into it and don’t try anything else. For example, I am terrified of ever moving out of Atlanta because I don’t want to start over (That will need to be another blog post). From a young age, I did not try new foods, I hated traveling and I hated being away from home for long periods of time.
However, the other side to my personality is that I am obsessed with facing and overcoming challenges. At age 16, I challenged myself to go to Beijing, China on a 2 week trip in order to push myself out of my comfort zone and experience the world. This was the catalyst for the mindset of getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. Was Iceland hard to be in? No way.
The people I stayed with are incredible, the Airbnb was gorgeous and the country is breathtaking. Regardless, I am a little baby inside and will always miss home. Even as I type this, I am headed to Boston for the evening to hang out with my friend and then I spend 3 days in Indiana celebrating my friend’s 21st birthday. What I want to do is take a direct flight to Atlanta and sleep for 36 hours but that would be doing what is comfortable. EVERY single time I do something uncomfortable; incredible, life changing experiences come out of it. Is this a coincidence? I think not. You get out of life what you put into it. Start putting some uncomfortable sauce into yours.
Overall, Iceland was epic. I am so happy I went and I cannot wait to go back again.
Lastly, I’d like to thank the wonderful people I went on this trip with:
Connie, thank you for helping plan this trip and thank you for your enthusiasm while taking pictures of the Northern Lights. Your happiness genuinely made me very happy.
Rikesh, thank you for taking unbelievable photos that made our photos look like we weren’t on the same trip. Thank you for making dope music and for being a genuinely awesome guy. I can’t wait to get to know you more.
Shayna, thank you for being my other pea in a pod, my workout buddy and my traveling buddy. You rock.
Pooja, thank you for inviting me, planning an epic adventure and not letting me settle in my life. You’re a true friend
Finally, my 3 questions to whoever is reading this is simple:
1. When is your next trip? 2. Where is your next trip? 3. Why haven’t you booked it?
As someone with a passion for technology and innovation, being able to visit Singularity University was an amazing experience. I am an avid fan of SU’s founders, Ray Kurzweil and Peter Diamandis, two technology visionaries in their respected spaces, and to visit their campground for innovation has been the highlight of my trip to Silicon Valley.
For a background on those who might not exactly know what SU is and what is stands for: SU brings together undergraduate/graduate college students, startups, and technology executives to serve as a Silicon Valley think tank that addresses problems through educational programs and a business incubator. What makes SU stand out to me (aside from the fact that it’s located right in the middle of a giant NASA research center and a Federal airfield) is that they focus on empowering people to use exponential technologies to solve some of humanity’s biggest challenges and make a positive impact on the world.
SU doesn’t want to create the next social media app or the next photo sharing app, they want to help entrepreneurs solve actual real life problems that affects all of us.
Some examples include: a project to bring toilets and sanitation to a million people in third world countries, a company that makes 3D printers designed for space, and countless other inspiring initiatives. In a place where many entrepreneurs and investors are chasing the next billion dollar idea. Our tour guide summed up pretty well what SU chases: We’re not here for a billion dollar unicorn, we’re here for a billion people impact unicorn.
To me, that’s the kind of place that I want to be at. Hopefully, next year I can apply to their incubator with an idea to make a positive impact on the world. Currently they are looking for ideas in AI/robotics, digital biology/medicine, networking/computer systems, and digital fabrication/nanotechnology.
Doing something to help progress any of those fields would be an incredible opportunity, and SU is a unique place that can offer that. I want to thank UGA’s Society of Entrepreneurs in providing this experience to students looking to make, as Steve Jobs would put it, “a ding in the universe.”
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