Refugee Dance Hall

I came across a musical artist I absolutely adore today: K'naan. While I don't know his story, he tells in his music that he is a refugee- I don't know where from, and the idea that he came to America as a refugee from a war of some sort is primarily an assumption on my part at this point.

His music struck a chord with me, particularly his words.

He's not scared to say what he thinks, and this is plain as day, if you listen to the song 'If Rap Gets Jealous'. The first song of his I stumbled across, though, (thanks to Youtube) was 'People Like Me'. He's quite the story teller.

His words got me thinking quite a bit, primarily about my own feelings, as I've felt more than just a little overwhelmed today, though for no reason in particular. The word refugee, one I initially associated primarily with the band The Fugees, has blossomed in meaning to me as of late. I am a native-born American. I am not a child who grew up in places like Iran, or some countries in South America and Africa, where civil war is an on-going battle. I am a child of my own war.

Aren't we all?

I am a child of the war on inequality, on violence, on alcohol abuse, on domestic abuse, rape, prejudice-both racial and gender, I am a child of the war of hate. While I grew up in a violent neighborhood, I don't claim to understand the hell the children growing up in worlds of civil war face daily. Yet, I understand what it's like to find refuge. It's taken me years to escape the prison of hate, to free myself from the cell barred with alcohol, violence, ignorance, pain and, more than all others, fear.

And so it begins, through the eyes of me...

I declared as a Baha'i on April 18th, 2010- last Sunday.

I am official, though no more skilled or knowledgeable, I'm sure, than any other Baha'i I know. The Baha'i faith is my personal refuge. It's message of unity and fellowship throughout all races, religions and nationalities is something I searched for over a period of years, and clung to once I finally found it and rid myself of a few of my bars.

March 21st, 2010 was my one-year anniversary sober. I made less than a handful of slips involving alcohol in that time, and some people feel that means I should not be counting one year sober. I am not part of any programs, and did not have much of a support system at all when I quit drinking cold turkey and of my own doing. If any one of my critics has drank for 8 years, joined the Army, been stationed in Korea, and quit drinking cold-turkey without any help, I'd be glad to hear them out. Otherwise, I'm afraid I have little sympathy for their protests. I am proud of how far I've come, and am grateful to those who have supported me through it- as there were many who didn't.

Alcohol was my last excuse.

If I make a choice, there's nobody to blame for the consequences but myself now.

That's exactly as it should be.

This is my life- no bars, no excuses, no lies.

This is my soul, learning to dance.

This is me.