I’ve always contended that it was my personal statements that got me into Berkeley, because I wasn’t really a competitive applicant based on the rest of my academic record. My GPA was good but not outstanding, my SAT score was underwhelming, and I didn’t have that many extracurriculars. But much to the surprise of my college counselor and high school friends, I got in, and I’ve always thought that maybe the college application reader saw something in me that I didn’t yet see in myself.
Recently I went through my external hard drive and re-read one of my personal statements:
“If I could do anything for the rest of my life, it would be to write about anything and everything; I’m not picky. I love the idea of my dusty words outliving my decomposing corpse and leaving a small imprint, if any imprint, proving that I was here. Proving that I experienced this life in this world, and that every puzzle piece moment wasn’t experienced in vain.
There’s a lot I want out of life, and if I can just document half of my experiences for others to experience vicariously, then that’s enough for me. Writing gives me this ambition to live a million different lives just so I can write it all down on paper and let future generations know that yeah, I went there. Yeah, I did that, and you can too.
I want to be able to look back one day and have the satisfaction that I accomplished something amazing, and I did it while taking full advantage of every bit of potential hiding in the crevices of my tiny, tiny body. I want to be someone to emulate; someone that I can be proud of. There is just so much to experience, and I can’t wait to jump into this crazy life in this crazy world, and you know, really be a part of it all.”
It’s fun to look back at those words over a decade later and see that 1) I basically sound the same, and 2) I am still on this journey to becoming someone whose legacy I would be proud to leave behind.
But I’m getting there, slowly but surely. This has been a year of transformation, not just for me but for the entire world. And it rests at the heels of the past several years of transformation for me, where I have actively sought ways to sustain a lasting happiness. I’ve already written many, many words about confronting depression, going to therapy, and finding love and community, so I won’t belabor the point. I’ve just always been a reflective person with an eye on self-improvement, for which there is no destination, only the journey.
So for my birthday this year, I’m going to unapologetically celebrate the things I’ve done in the past year that have helped propel me forward. Which is big for me, because despite how hard I work and how intentionally I try to live, I have always felt a little awkward owning my accomplishments. The line between confidence and narcissism is difficult for me to toe, and my fear of the latter often waters down the former. It’s the next thing to tackle on my self-improvement to-do list - how do I balance being a fully confident and self-possessed person without also being a total asshole.
But I digress. Here’s what I’m celebrating today:
I’ve been following through with my New Year’s resolution to be a more conscious consumer by no longer shopping on Amazon, purchasing toilet paper that helps build sanitation infrastructure in areas that need it, and using compostable dog bags made of cornstarch bio-based material instead of plastic bags.
Liam and I have moved our money from Charles Schwab (who we learned has contributed millions to Trump and the GOP) to Amalgamated Bank, a socially responsible B Corp that is aligned with issues we care about - climate change and sustainability, criminal justice and private prisons, gun safety, and reproductive rights, to name a few. The Checking account I opened donates a portion of the interest earned to Color of Change, which is pretty cool.
While we’re on the topic of money, I’ve also moved my retirement funds into an active ESG (Environmental, Social, Governance) portfolio so that even my investments are socially responsible. On top of that, I’m working on normalizing the concept of wealth redistribution on a micro level, by donating to GoFundMe’s, bail funds, nonprofits, etc.
Since quarantine I’ve also taken an active role in building a more inclusive team culture and improving team morale in my office, and I’ve encouraged my teams and clients to be actively anti-racist - in the conversations we have with each other and in customer-facing messaging. I recently raised my hand to become the DEI Steward for our Western Region, and even if I don’t get the role, I look forward to participating in one of the many other anti-racist programs my company has initiated since the beginning of June.
I’ve kept on top of (in as healthy a way as possible) making my voice heard on a political level - by signing petitions, making phone calls, voting, and amplifying resources and information to my network.
I’m not sharing this to pat myself on the back, nor to make anyone else feel bad about what they are or are not doing. I, like so many, have been battling feelings of helplessness and futility all of quarantine, and these small actions have helped keep my depression at bay. Charitable giving and good deeds have been scientifically proven to improve one’s happiness levels (which I learned in the Science of Well-Being course), and I have to agree - during this extremely turbulent time, focusing on action and kindness rather than swirl in my own self-pity and fear has been very impactful and helped me maintain my sanity.
I also recognize that it’s due to my financial privilege that I’m able to make many of these decisions. The actions I’ve taken and the choices I’ve made are in response to my immediate sphere of influence, and they’re probably not right for everyone. We all have a unique part to play in creating a more equitable and inclusive world, and this is just my contribution - my money, my actions, my words, my hope.
As I look back at the words I wrote when I was 17, it makes me happy to know that the person I am today is very much so a fleshed out version of who I wanted to be then. And if you’re reading this, I hope this reflection encourages you to also pause and reflect on yourself - are you the person you always thought you would be? Are you someone your younger self would be proud of? And if not, what’s missing? What would you change? What could you do now, today, to get closer to becoming that person?
2020 will be a year forever imprinted on our identities. On my birthday I acknowledge it as a year I embraced reflection and in living in my power, and I encourage you to do the same.