Boulders
A Jackie Robinson Story from my fifth-grade journal
I just read a journal entry from my 10-year-old self.
He’s the inner child I didn’t know I’d been trying to heal. He’s the one that I’ve been carrying boulders for.
During fifth-grade class reading time, ten-year-old me goes, “I read my book. The book is called The Jackie Robinson Story”.
It instantly brought tears to my eyes. Tears that I had been holding.
What was it like to read that book? How did the story impact me? Out of all books, why that one?
I’ve been unable to move most of the day, paralyzed by anxiety induced by my upcoming dissertation defense that is less than a month away. This dissertation journey has been the most emotionally and mentally challenging process of my life.
In the process, I’ve opened, revealed, and exposed repressed feelings conjured from childhood and adolescence growing up as a young Black boy who escaped into the story and possibilities of Jackie Robinson.
I wanted to move the world at ten. At 33, I carry a heaviness like boulders.
As my dissertation nears, I’m frightened. Yet, I’ve changed. I have no idea what’s next. Who will I be? My anxiety gets the best of me most days. My inner critic often has the last say.
I turned to the next page of the journal, “When I grow up, I want to be a Roller Coaster Designer.”
Well, sorry to disappoint you, kid. You won’t be designing roller coaster corkscrews, but you’re growing up to be an aspiring leader who can change the world, just like Jackie.
You’re about to get your Doctorate of Education, more specifically for Educational Leadership for Social Justice. You’ll just have to move, carry, and lift some boulders on the way.
