Monday, March 30, 2015

LeaderShape Reflection

**I went to LeaderShape, a camp retreat designed to cause us to be better leaders,  during spring break, and was asked to write a paper about my experience. This is what I came up with.**

The first time I wrote this paper, it sounded like this: “Going to LeaderShape has been a one-of-a-kind experience. I have never experienced anything like it before in my life. It really has helped me to grow as a person. I have learned to respect people so much more. I realize now that everyone has a story and that has profoundly shaped the way that I look at people. I used to think that there were “one size fits all” rules for people and how people should act, but I realize now that life and people are much more complicated than I thought before. Everyone is going through something, and everyone is worthy of respect.”
            The second time I wrote this paper, it sounded like this: “Truthfully, it is hard to put into words what LeaderShape meant to me. On one hand, I want to say that it has not changed me. I am still me. But on the other hand, I feel like I am so much more aware. I feel different.
            Today, I went to a mini-conference on campus called “Partners in Movement.” It was all about white privilege and aimed to have conversations about race and discrimination. It was co-run by one of the family facilitators we had at LeaderShape named Amanda Goodenough and one of the staff named Carmen Hetzel. I signed up to go to this program about a week ago and only decided this morning at 11AM that I actually intended to go. Before LeaderShape, I would have never gone to a program like this. Never. Not on a weekend at noon when I would rather be sleeping. I would be casually interested in it, but I would not have actually drove to campus and attended. It was a huge step for me.
            Later this evening, after returning home from the mini-conference, I found myself to be really upset. Putting a word to my feelings, I realized that I was angry. Really angry. Angry at the systems that I have involved myself in and the discrimination that I have perpetuated. The injustices that I have let slip on by as if they mean nothing. Well, they do not mean nothing. So, I let myself rant. I took out a notebook page and just let loose. My pen screamed across the page as I ranted about every injustice people had done to me and I had done as of late. I was left lying on the floor, exhausted, wondering why in the world I was feeling this way. What was wrong with me lately?
            The truth? Nothing. Yet, at the same time, absolutely everything. I felt like a lot of my life has consisted of lies up until this point. All of my relationships with my friends need to change. My family dynamics needs to change. UW-La Crosse needs to change. The implications were overwhelming. Now that my eyes had been opened, they could not unsee what they had seen. We have a lot of work to do. The world, and my life, is very unequal right now.
            And all of these feelings are coming from me. Erica Thiem. The passive, people-pleasing, “A” student, who does not like participating on campus, who is hardly involved in clubs, and hates rocking the boat. Me.
            So, you want to know what people get out of LeaderShape? Why we should keep this program around? Easy. Just pick a word. Passion, integrity, dignity, respect, community, change, anger, truth, love. . . The list goes on and on, but it is all there. I have learned and/or experienced all of these things and more at LeaderShape.
            The third time I wrote this paper, it went like this: “If I had to sum up what I learned from LeaderShape, that would be very, very simple. In a sentence, I learned that I have a voice. A very importance voice and one that deserves to be heard. And if I will just tell the truth about what I see, in the best way that I can, I cannot imagine what kinds of change I can cause in the world. And in this moment, my truth is that I want to thank you. Thank you so much for giving me this experience. It has truly changed my life.