Embracing My Identity

#029 - Exploring a heartfelt narrative about the struggle of fitting in, dealing with absence, speech impediments, and tourette syndrome. The storyteller shares experiences from growing up in a small community, participating in various activities to fit in, and overcoming toxic coping mechanisms such as substance abuse. They reflect on an enlightening basketball mishap and how a high school game inspired them to give valuable advice to a struggling young athlete. Emphasizing the importance of knowing oneself, embracing failures, and the journey of continual self-improvement, the story encourages embracing identity and living in the moment.

Transcript

It's hard because I'm trying to fit my life into a painting. I have a tough time picking the right colors. How bold to make the streaks or even no one, my portraits going to be complete.  I remember growing up in a small community of 10,000 people. With less than 5% of the population being visible minority.  So your blacks, your Asians, your Indians. 

I want to say Indians. I mean, Punjabi is from India. Back in the sixties. 

I'm talking about my people, not the native indigenous groups. So I'm trying to figure out where I fit in.  It did not help. When I have a father that's absent, grinding just to put food on the table. Working in the railway.  Just worked out of town a lot. He's a spiritual man of bare minimum survive and oftentimes kept to himself. You wanted it quiet.

I'm not properly communicating at home. With anyone. So I seek elsewhere to fit in and it doesn't help when I have a speech impediment and diagnosed with Tourette syndrome.  Here I am. I can't get my words out when I need to. And then other times I can't stop saying random words when they don't count.  And then no one in the community really look like me. And the ones that did, or somewhat that 5% that minority. I didn't fit in with them either.  They were all too busy, trying to independently fit into the 95%.  I want a sense of fitting in and I default to trying different things. 

I'm in high school band played the Alto  saxophone.  Playing badminton. And there's a time I played basketball. I was never good at any of these things. And I told myself I couldn't do this. I'm pretty much setting myself up for failure before even making the attempt.  One year I try out for basketball.

And there ends up being two teams, team a and B.  TMB is like,, sympathy team and overflow team that isn't nearly as good to play as. Uh, you know, with the teammate. Uh, practice with everyone the game time rolls around and observe, and I'm sitting on the sidelines. And we enter the playoffs and dead last and I'm watching from the sidelines. 

Right. And I barely got to play and I, but I got my gear on. And I'm formulating in my head. Hey, I'm just here for the image. 

I don't need to play. I'm good. I'm part of the team.  The last game of the playoffs. No one. Really from team. A showed up.  And like we're, we're playing for like seventh or dead last like eight position.  With 10 minutes left in the game. I get asked to go in. As I wait on the sidelines to be substituted in,  like I started sweating bullets. My face turns beet red  and I'm like, yo.  I'm like nervous as hell.  The ball ends up. In my hands as I get substituted, then I see a clear path to the center court, to the hoop. And I dribble up to the hoop lay up, shoot scores, and I was ecstatic. And I'm like, yes. 

And someone from the sidelines is like, yo. And then the other guy from the sides, like. You idiot.  And my teammate comes running up to me and says, yo, wrong fucking way. Uh,  it turns out a score to point for the opposite team.  Well, a couple points. As each basket is where to. And I'm like, oh, it's okay. 

It's okay. Lots of time left to redeem myself. Uh, with one minute left in the game, we're already down by two points.  The ball comes to my hand. I'm at the three point line. Like high risk. Should I take it? And then I moved to the free-throw and I shoot in the ball's going in. Right. It's going in, hits the Ram. Bounces back and I grabbed the rebound. 

And at this point I do something extremely stupid. Something that I've seen on TV in the NBA. I placed the ball underneath my armpits and I called time out. No one does anything.  I lock eyes with my coach. I lock eyes with the breath. And, and shrug their shoulders and, and I'm looking for a whistle.  

And at this point, the ball gets ripped out of my armpits by the opposite team, dribbled to the opposite end of the court.  Low-light layup.  Shoots scores. Buzzer goes. And the other team wins by four points. Not only do we finish the season and Dez last, we finish the playoffs and dead last.  C.  I was trying to fit in.   Myself into a painting where people on my team and in the audience have stepped to me in turn. 

I feel like I fit in and to be honest, When I felt like I didn't fit in, I would cope with. Things that are like toxic things like isolating. Being antisocial being in my head. And just extremely toxic, toxic things. Which later on in life, turned into drinking and drugging to forget everything to numb the pain.  But just ended up being more and more toxic. 

, I've been sober for like nine years. And like I was sitting in watching a basketball game, not too long ago in a gymnasium. , it was a high school game. I had a cousin that played. And  when I saw one of the kids on the opposite team, on the bleachers, Dressed and basketball attire like he was on, on the team.  But will sideline. And I, and I can see. Here a murmuring to himself. 

Like I can't do this. Why does everyone think I can do this man? Like I could hear him. I could, I could see it inherent. This kid reminded me so much  like myself growing up.  And I shifted closer to him. Uh, during intermission I'm like, yo man, just go in there and give it a hundred percent. Try it. You don't know if you don't, if you don't try it. 

And if you give it a hundred percent and you still don't enjoy them. Well, then it's not for you, right?

See, that's the advice I would give to my younger self. Like.

It's not about. 90% scale. It's about.  It's about maybe 10% skill and 90% repetition.  And 10,000 hours. And if you, if you're passionate about something, You can give it all. You got.  

And ill, this kid looked back at me like he turned the other way. And he, it's almost like you wanted me to say that or someone wanted him to tell him that.  And then, and then, you know, I looked back at him as I was kind of pivoting the other way and I'm like, yo, by the way, I'm going to get, if you just so happen to get in there and grab the ball and run the other way. And score a couple of points for the other team. 

It's okay. Don't go drinking and all that bullshit around it. Come find me, you know, I mean, I kind of gave him my number. I'm like, yo, just, but.  The thing is, is like, we all need like someone to reach out to, and the trick is to take things away from all these groups.  That's going to enhance our lives, our social groups, our community, our self enhancement. But never to be consumed. 

Always know yourself, always know your identity. I was so focused on fitting in and what other people thought that I forgot the most important thing. Learning from the process and my failures. Living the present and working with my identity.  

You see, my life has a painting.  I get to pick the colors, the intensity of the streaks, and guess what? Oftentimes it's the wrong pain.  And the wrong streets, but that's okay.  I can paint over it. And over and over again. And in time it just takes my painting from something that was okay to good.  To one day. 

Great. But guess what? It'll never be complete.