What does “my life as art” mean?
Maybe it means designing my days with intention — even when they’re full of the mundane. Right now, I’m inspired to meal prep, schedule my gym sessions, go over my finances. These are the everyday tasks I feel I need to do to move forward. The small movements toward a different kind of life.
I sit and contemplate my life a lot these days. Maybe I’m making it harder than it needs to be. Maybe not.
For a long time, I’ve carried the pressure to create something, find something, that would elevate and support me — and prove everyone wrong. Prove that you can have joy and work. That I’m not just a wild card who doesn’t want to work (and even if I were, that’s valid). I’ve tried — really tried. But conforming to these places and their subpar leaders takes a different kind of human.
Maybe I’m “green,” maybe I’m idealistic. Maybe I’m rebellious. But if you know me, you know how hard I work. How much I’ve tried to serve and honor others — not just because I care, but also from a place of wounding. Wanting to be the best. To be accepted. To have stability. To prove I’m worthy.
Working hard to achieve.
So to be in a setting where I want to accomplish so much— but I’m in connection with people who will never see me — no matter how hard I try… That disconnect cuts deep.
But there’s a fighter in me that knows better. A child-spirit in me that refuses to be dormant and docile. Staying silent suppresses her. Being fearful of authority dishonors her. No matter how much I crave stability, she knows: we don’t fear what man can do.
And so, once again, I’m choosing to walk away from education — not because of the children, never because of them — but because the system breeds and supports subordination, retaliation, control, and tyranny. It makes space for bullies. And it protects them.
I’ve tried to “play the game.” But I keep failing because I’m not wired to conform to these rules.
But still I ask myself:
Is this just work culture?
Or educational work culture?
Or Title I educational work culture?
Either way, it’s toxic.
I’m tired of waking up anxious about what might happen at school today. The focus isn’t on the students anymore — it’s on survival. On bracing myself for whatever I might experience in that environment. That’s not how work should feel.
I’ve never hated school so much until I became a teacher in the school system.
And it’s strange, because I loved school as a student. I was educated in the same system. I loved my teachers. But maybe my experience was different because I went to predominantly white schools in the district. Maybe if I had gone to the “wrong school,” I would’ve hated it too. That feels… peculiar.
The art of educating in the public educational space has unfortunately been stifled and stomped out.
Replaced by checkboxes, standardized tests, bad backs, bladder issues, and bruised senses of self.
In so many public educational spaces, joy doesn’t live here. I am tired of trying to make something fit that’s not meant to work.
I want more. And I know more exists.
I’ve seen it before — working with creatives at a music studio, bringing a project to life with videographers and musicians. It was unpaid, sure. But it was rich with energy, joy, and purpose. I saw what could happen when people came together, using what they had, valuing each other’s gifts. That was work too. And I loved it.
I’m no longer in touch with those people. But I remember the feeling.
That’s what I’m creating now.
A life where my gifts do change the world.
Where I travel, meet people, enjoy myself, serve, and create.
Where work and joy coexist.
And maybe that means writing pieces like this.
Maybe that means turning these journals into vlogs.
Maybe it means burning the blueprint and starting again.
Either way, my life is art. And I’m done shaping it to fit a system that refuses to see me.
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