Early in April, I had my first class in a ten week pottery course, the first fine arts class I’ve taken since grade 8. That same week, I participated in the first of five sessions as part of a train-the-trainer workshop for Thrive RU, essentially my first foray into group therapy. Each Tuesday in April, I rolled out of bed, biked down to campus, and began my morning in a session with a collection of other folks across RyersonSA, and we worked through the five-factor model of resilience, guided by Dr. Diana Brecher. Later, I rode up to Clay Design to learn how to wedge, center, throw, tool, and glaze to make creations all of my own.
I’m not particularly interested or invested in popular culture, but I do enjoy a good film. I love a good film, in fact, and I love admiring cinematography, incredible performances, and thought-provoking writing. I don’t, however, enjoy seeing essentially the same people celebrated, year after year, for their accomplishments in the arts while other performers and creators are left out. Even more, I am frustrated, exasperated, at those people having to explain over and over again why their exclusion is part of a bigger picture, a bigger, historical, and systemic injustice that repeats itself in the myriad ways that systemic things do.
I haven’t written on here in a long time, clearly. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. Though I didn’t carry my notebook with me as much this summer, there are still plenty of word-doodles and thoughts and half-finished paragraphs in my books, on my phone, and in my head.
While I have been in leadership roles in the past, my role in Student Affairs at Ryerson has me in my first supervisory role “officially”, and I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what leadership means, and I’ve been assessing my own performance as much as I have been thinking about how the students I work with can do even better in their work.