When sand becomes glass
Doubt, and other ways to convey what we know authentically
This week, I’m reflecting on the roles we play
The many ways we see and can be seen
as Human shapes, to a degree
simplified face paint
distorted through wavy, sea-green
What’s that called, anyway?
When sand becomes glass
…
Vitrify.
yea, I could use that
To describe what I feel:
this process of contorting
bonds, re-configure
to contain certain qualities
deemed worthy to be seen
cool, calm and collected
the afterglow of superheat
But, I didn’t know this word
a minute ago
so, it feels like a stretch
to deploy here
as perfect a fit as it is
There must be
some cooling down period
between
learning something
and using it in a sentence
An earning out
over time, with vested interest
to live, name,
and pattern match experience
Vitrified, while you keep it in mind (/Vitrif(y|ied)/g)
Though it’s usually best
not to
come off too hasty
like, when truth is spoken
by someone seen
outpacing who they’re known to be
already
inside the building
yet, so easily hand-waved away
to make space
for outside, paid consultants
to say the same thing, expertly
and this time, it’s believed
No, I better not
I’d be vilified
using vitrify in this way
using esoteric words
that push people away
they’d call me erudite, or worse
claim this is AI-assisted, written by machines
So, I won’t
but if anyone asks, how to make glass
I know what it means
This week has taught me a lot about the roles we cycle through in life and how people use these to create assumption models of us, fuzzy as they may be. As someone who has identified as the Title on their W-2 for 22 years, it feels strange to experience the world in a new way: as a Creative (Writer/Artist). It reveals how many people meet us with the assumption of commerce, and how a subtext of “What do you do? What are you paid for?” permeates our daily interactions.
It can be romantic to frame identifying with a new creative role as metamorphosis (as I have). A caterpillar moulting its skin and attaching to a safe branch, isolated and vulnerable, can describe the feeling of internal transformation, and helps convey the painful parts of death and rebirth. However, this doesn’t really square with how other people relate to us, as they try to understand “who the hell is this person, anyway?” They want to interact with the beautiful butterfly, wings shimmering in flight during its two-week lifespan, not the caterpillar or cocoon pupating alone.
For some reason, we received the benefit of the doubt that we were “stable,” “reliable,” or “tethered to reality” when we had a regular W-2, 1099, or whatever Tax Form serves as a shortcut for making evaluative reductions about people in your country. In my experience, this was when I felt the most squirrelly and unsure of myself: jumping jobs every 1.5-2 years, bouncing back from lay-offs, or re-inventing myself for hyper growth in interviews: “I’m an Engineer, not an Intern! Now I’m a Manager! Wait, now I’m a Product Manager!”
Years ago, I remember trying to describe what I did in Tech to my grandfather as his eyes glazed over in confusion. In the kindest, most honest critique I’ve ever received, he resigned and said “I guess I just don’t understand the World anymore; this is all over my head, but if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
That may have been the beginning of the change, for me. As I realized I may not be saving the world “making people more productive” (or whatever buzzword I was attached to at the moment) after all.
Fast-forward to this week, as I’m applying to apartments, I’m needing to prove myself again. Justify my financial viability, on the surface. But my insecurities are rubbed raw as I realize, it’s not about the money at all: they’re looking for butterflies, and wondering how much I believe in myself.
“A Writer…well, that wouldn’t be my life choice, would it?”
- A Prospective “Landlady” (their chosen Role term) in an interview about our application
Then, when asking about our status on a different application:
“The Other Landlord wouldn’t consider your application.
To put it simply, you’re not A Diplomat.”
- A Listing Agent that dissuaded us from applying to an apartment based on our Not-Being a prestigious role for the region. Verbally, of course - in a friendly call - never in writing.
As I navigate life in this new role, I realize how much privilege I have experienced. My past professional titles served as “prestige shortcuts” for approval in situations where someone is trying to understand my commercial viability. An Engineer - ok, sounds good, next step. A Writer - “hold on, are you published? have I read your work?” It didn’t matter that the financial criteria for the application was met, a Creative role seemed to warrant more skepticism and “over-the-line” projection. I realize that this is but a fraction of the discrimination that people experience, and it’s in the category of choices I have control over (not protected class discrimination). This experience has opened me up to more awareness of privilege and the ways we see each other based on assumption or stereotypes.
The way I’m approaching it now is to own my doubts. I can say up-front that I don’t have this figured out, and I am taking one step at a time. Like picking up a new word and trying it out to see if it feels authentic to use in a sentence, or not. Or seeing the fancy consultant or new team member come in and give the same observation your team has been aware of for months, why didn’t management believe you when you said it? Sometimes there is an awkward period of matching your lived experience to your internal knowing, to build confidence and step into a new role. That way, other people can see you the way you see yourself - transformed, and in flight. 🦋
If you enjoyed this, please consider reading a Post that inspired it this week: Caroline Cala Donofrio wrote an enlightening piece that starts with “So, what do you do?” and takes you on a wonderful journey of death and rebirth with the Devil Tarot Card.
Caroline Cala Donofrio
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