Levels Shmevels

The Morning Ramblings of Your Friendly Neighborhood AlcheMystic

Can we not talk about things in "levels?"  Instead of different levels, how about "aspects?"

Pieces of the puzzle...parts of the whole...
A metaphysical shop that I love promotes their crystals as "next level." WTF is that? I feel the crystals cringing, 'cause, my sensitivity is next level! Right? Someone once told me that spiritually they were on a higher level than me. I replied, "How can you say that? You don't know anything about my spirituality." Instead of claiming "higher levels" why not explore "other aspects?" Why the need to believe that acquiring knowledge or delving deeper into self brings us higher? Why not see it as making us more whole...bringing us closer to truth? Food for thought. Digest or vomit as you see fit.

What Do You Mean It Costs More To Educate Me Because Of My Ethnicity?

AKA How The Los Angeles Unified School District Taught Me I Was Inferior

It was around second grade. The teacher handed out a survey for the class to fill out. At the bottom it asked for our race. At the time I believed I was half white and half Mexican. I was really half Thai and half white but that is a story for another time. The form listed "Caucasian" as one choice and "Mexican" or "Hispanic" as another choice. I was both. What should I do? There was another choice, "Native American." I had never heard this term before but it seemed the perfect answer to my dilemma.  My child's mind reasoned that being born in America made me American AND native to the land so I check "Native American." Upon reviewing the surveys Miss Teacher asked the class who checked off "Native American." Silence. She went on to say that there were no Native American's in the class so someone filled it out incorrectly. I had been groomed, since I was a fetus, to be a perfect student and never give wrong answers so I spoke up to defend my answer.  Miss Teacher said, "Your last name is Sanchez. You are Mexican!" I defiantly replied, "I am half Mexican and Half white!" Miss Teacher explained, "The school gets more money for Mexicans so I am changing it to Mexican." My entire being, to my core, knew this was wrong and my child's mind did not know how or feel safe speaking up. I never could figure out why it cost more to educate me than it did to educate a fully white person. As wrong as I knew it to be, it was still the beginning of a long road of feeling less than.