Note to readers: This is a review of my personal journal from my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the Dominican Republic more than a decade ago. I have done my best not to change what I wrote, even if I feel differently now. Part of the joy of reading old journals is seeing a story arc where I’ve learned new things.
21 Sept 01
Entrena
I studied Anthropology for four fucking years, and now I have to listen to this crap. This woman is standing in front of me talking to me about culture like I’m some sort of dunce. What’s worse is I don’t agree with her statements about culture.
The question is, of course, why I think it matters what the woman says. It matters only because I have some unfortunate fixed view of myself that I’m unwilling to part with or have challenged. This is the part that needs to be nurtured as a “smart person.” It’s as if I wouldn’t like myself if I didn’t know all the teacher’s questions or I was seen by other people as stupid.
But it still pisses me off.
Okay, I’m just going to shut up now already. My opinions such and no one gives a shit. My motives for attention are transparent. She’s standing up there now, drawing out these false dichotomies and generalizations about people. “Dominicanos are thus and so” (fatalistic, blah, blah, blah.) Grrrr.
You can see the journal entries as I post them here.If you’re just starting, here’s the first entry. The next entry is A response to disaster training , while the entry before this one is Pimp like Papito.
