I’ve been thinking a lot about my eldest niece, who just graduated from college with a degree in Creative Writing.  (I can hear you moaning and slapping your foreheads.  That’s not nice.  There are a lot of jobs that require talented writing.  Really!)

No, I’ve been thinking about her because we are sharing remarkably similar life circumstances these days.  We have both left comfortable, dependable surroundings for living somewhere new.  We both have new roommates to learn to live with.  We both have the anxieties and challenges of new jobs and colleagues with whom we have to learn to work.  And we’re both feeling very anxious from all the change and learning we’re going through.

The difference, of course, is that I’m over twice her age.  I’ve done this a few times before.  But somehow, after carving a life for myself that has been all about travel, working with new groups, and creating art with strangers, it never seems to get easier.  You’d think by now I would have learned ways in which to “break into” an entrenched clique of people who have worked together for years.  But not so much.  I enter the rehearsal hall and I’m transported back to high school with the cool kids all bunched together talking and me on the outside looking in.

The good news is that there is a lot of work to do, and I’m good at the work.  Mutual respect for good work can slowly open windows.  But you never know.  The human desire to create tribes and discount outsiders is a strong survival instinct.  I came to town a week after they began rehearsals, and I’m only here for the rehearsal period, not for the long haul.  Although I know that my work will make the performers look and sound better, they can’t be expected to know that.

Also, I’m twice as old as most of them, too.  Due to college-town hijinks (a silly and corny word for what many college students are up to these days), I exclude myself from their rowdier gatherings.  (Believe me, I hear them.  Party Central is two doors away.  If I sit on my balcony, I can overhear several of the apartment residents discussing the many kinds of drugs they are taking or planning to take.)  It doesn’t make me feel old, exactly, just more, uh hem, mature. And how creepy would it be if I DID haunt their late night parties? 

Being a human being is a complicated thing.  Wanting to differentiate, yet wanting to belong.  Wanting to be noticed, yet wanting to fit in.  Wanting to be individual, yet not wanting to be singled out.  Wanting to be part of a tribe, yet wanting to be alone.

A word to my niece?  Trust yourself and your talents.  Know that these things will all work out with time.  Maybe it’s a word to myself, as well.

text and images copyright 2011 voicegal