anepistolaryencounter

[anepistolaryencounter]

8/26/19

As is tradition, I’ve arrived at the more important insights of our conversation several hours after our conversation. I’ve love to work on that; to be the kind of person that can retrieve what’s on my mind when it’s being discussed, instead of after, but it is what it is. This will have to do for now.

A long time ago, I recommended The Beginner’s Guide to you as one piece of media that made me feel understood. It’s technically a video game, and even though it only takes about as much of a person’s time as a movie, the hoops you have to jump through to access it has made that a difficult recommendation for people to access. In it, there’s a line where the narrator says: 

“If I knew that my life depended on finding something to be driven by other than validation... What would that even be? It's strange, but the thought of not being driven by external validation is unthinkable, like I actually cannot conceive of what that would be like! What now?”

And I related to that, exactly. The version of myself that lived in Vegas and had just finished at A-Tech and tried to write books with my friend Paloma felt exactly that way. 

Right now, I’m not so different. The difference is, I can conceive of what that would look like, but that’s as far as it goes. I’ve been able to embrace some sides of myself that are a bit more counter-cultural. But, as unpopular as it is to admit, the honest truth is that I care deeply for what people think of me. 

And I think that’s the common thread between my word-vomit of complaints during your visit. I’m reluctant to depart form the corporate world and start over, despite a relative certainty that I don’t like that environment, because I know late bloomers aren’t viewed as favorably by mainstream culture, and I don’t want to join the ranks of boomerang millennials that struggle to get off of the ground. 

Remember how I mentioned that I’m not great at challenging friends or inviting challenges from them? That’s because I’m terrified of alienating people that are already inclined to like me. 

It also affects how confidence works for me. Internally, I have a lot of confidence in who I am and what I can do. But I have no idea how to let that show externally. I don’t quite know how to wear that confidence. And it makes me feel less able to go out into the world and dive all the way into what interests me. I can’t embrace these counter-cultural sides of myself all the way. I’m cautious about talking about psychedelics and non-ordinary states of consciousness because I don’t want to be written off as a hippie. I don’t express kink because I don’t want to be written off as a pervert. I don’t talk much about non-monogamy because I don’t want to be written off as a cuck or a swinger. I’ve seen that these reactions are possible. And because they are possible, this side of myself I’m describing convinces me of the lie that these reactions are likely, and devastating.

Part of me knows full well that this isn’t all that important. Part of me doesn’t even like these hypothetical critics enough to care about what they think. But there’s some foundational part of me that cares very much and that part controls so much of my day-to-day experience. 

I’m not entirely sure why I’m writing all of this. Why I feel compelled to come here and clarify and tack this onto this conversation. I guess, while you were visiting, I felt like my brain was half on. I feel half-empty. I’m sure it’s temporary. I’m sure it’s just this dread at being on this fork in the road that I don’t feel fully prepared for, combined with an unhelpful reliance on weed while I’m feeling that way. 

You have this look when we speak that makes me feel like you see right through me. As I’ve grown older and more confident in myself, I find it refreshing more often than not. It’s a non-verbal signal that I don’t have to pretend with you. That I can just talk about what’s on my mind because I have no other option but to be myself. 

This time, in this state, I felt like I just shrunk. Like I was pressing myself to say things that felt smart and insightful and thoughtful, because I wanted to be seen as those things, both by you and myself. Our friendship is genuine, direct, and perceptive in a way that no other friendship is for me, and I suppose I’m feeling some regret because I feel I wasn’t any of those things while you were here. Writing this isn’t meant to be a direct apology to you and I’m not expecting any kind of response, although I am writing this here because I’d like these thoughts to be available to you. I just know that writing these things out are how I clear them out of my head so I can move on from it. 

Anyway, thanks for hitting me up, and listening to me whine, and for loving my wife, and for being my friend. Love you, and I’m excited to see you again!

-Jonat C. Kenerson

[anepistolaryencounter]

Dear Jonat,

Thank you so much for that. People don’t often talk about how we perceive each other, ya know? And it is honestly crazy to read how you have seen me throughout all of these years. I think much of your past recollection has been influenced by what you have seen me recently do because I do not think I was bold and poised in high school, but that is just self-perception. 

I’ve constantly strived to do and be better. Each and every day I want to be a little kinder, a little smarter, or gain a little more experience. And if I feel like I haven’t done those things it hurts me to my core. My goal is not to influence people, but to help people. I really want to dedicate my life to others and navigating the complexities of immigration law that poses a huge barrier to marginalized communities. The only inspiration I want to be for others is that what I have done and will continue to do is nothing special--anyone can do it. I am not nor will I ever do anything somebody else can’t do. It is attainable, it is possible, and I hope people realize that. 

I absolutely love that you remember what I said about being a person of action. That’s really all I ever imagined for my future. It is hard to raise your voice, it is something I have learned to do and still struggle with. Sometimes I ask myself if I am saying too much, if I’m going too far, if I’m taking too much space. But I have to speak on these issues. I have to put my dissent out there so others don’t feel alone, so others can be seen, and so others can know their beliefs are challenged. 

I am so happy to hear about your goals and motivations Jonat. You are an incredibly special person and your heart is bigger than any others I’ve ever met. You hold a powerful voice and I fucking love that you want to use it for good. Whatever you are thinking of doing, start now. Work at it every day. I will be your cheerleader forever! 

-Paloma M. Guerrero

[anepistolaryencounter]

Happy Graduation, Paloma!

Hey Paloma,

Did you know there was a time where knowing you made me feel nervous? It was a long time ago, and not your fault in the slightest. I just felt like you were intelligent, and bold, and poised, and I felt like I was none of those things. It scared me because it felt like it was just a matter of time until you'd seen enough of me to notice how deeply I'd lacked those things. It was just who I was as a person in high school to think that way. Bear with me, I promise this has something to do with my graduation wishes to you. 

Fortunately, you're better than that, and crucially, I learned that I'm better than that, too. It takes a lot of self-loathing to believe what I just described, and I've come a long way in correcting the source of that. I've found love for my intuition, my capability for thoughtfulness, my adaptability, and my emotional intelligence. I've learned to feel deserving of the wonderful people that have placed their lives near mine. 

But, that realization can only take me so far. It means my foot is off the brake in my life, but actually pressing the gas is something else, and that's where I'm struggling now. Not being held back and moving forward are separate tasks. And even though I haven't seen you in years, watching you go through law school has encouraged and inspired me to move forward, and I'm writing this in hopes that that knowledge is a gift worthy of the the work you've done. 

I don't remember when you said this - whether it was over breakfast or through a text - but I very clearly remember the phrase "I want to be a woman of action." I'm pretty sure this was around the time you'd decided on law school, but you still held some uncertainty about it. I could be remembering this wrong, but I think at that time, you didn't know the specific thing you wanted to do with it. You just wanted to take action, somehow, and that seemed to be all you knew for certain. Does that sound about right? Please stop me if I'm incorrectly editorializing your story for the sake of this letter, but that’s how I remember it.

I came to the Bay Area in part because I was short-sighted and had no next steps planned after my undergrad, and in part because I had this starry-eyed belief in technology as a path forward for our society, and by extension, for humanity. The more I lived out here and the more I read, the more I felt that vision was short-sighted as well. I'd seen how technology as represented by Silicon Valley is a part of more problems than solutions. I'd hoped to work in HR and find purpose in the idea of supporting the people that are building a bright future, and it turned out to look more like protecting a mediocre corporation from risk through paperwork and background checks. It turned out to be facilitating the next job-hopping adventures of entitled engineers. It turned out to be grinding my ideas of professional worth to dust by reading thousands and thousands of offer letters for one of the most comically overcompensated classes of workers in the world. I can still be someone that supports the people that are building a bright future, but I now know that'll take place in a different realm than corporate tech. I like to think I'm getting a small start on that by writing this for you.

I'd feel so tired at the end of a workday, and workweek, and it frustrated me to realize that this fatigue didn't even come from worthwhile work. I was wearing myself out, for what? The ability to work remote and some vague promises of career growth? While I was feeling all of this, I couldn't stop paying attention to, and caring for, the state of the world. Since 2016, I'd begun to pay so much attention to politics that it made me sick sometimes, and I knew that ignoring it wasn't an alternative. It made me feel like, if I was going to feel so spent at the end of a week, it'd feel much better if it was in service of something valuable to myself, or to the world.

And when I realized that, I was so glad to be able to witness your evolution into a lawyer from afar. Remembering that you'd said "I want to be a woman of action" and watching as you just fucking did it set such a strong example for me. In some of the earliest, most sickening moments of this political moment, I felt so angry and wished I had the knowledge or the skills to do something about it. I ached, and I felt helpless, and then I'd see you on Instragram. You just did it, instead of worrying about how to do it. I’m sure you felt a lot of the same things, but your work had given you a productive outlet for it. The “how” seems to have found as you went along. It showed me that you can't always wait and plan the next move; sometimes you just need to go forth and do the work, and trust the next move to come to you. It showed me that, if I want to avoid feeling this helpless feeling again, I needed to follow your example and start working right goddamn now, so that I can be ready to help when the next fight comes.

I know that kind of "just do it" mentality is nothing novel. But witnessing your hard work and the fruits of it helped me understand it as a real option for me, instead of just a trope or a capitalist catchphrase. Knowing you and following you has done so much to inspire me to stop just caring about these things from a distance. Seeing how far you've gone since our NaNoWriMo attempts, shared creative writing Tumblrs, and seasonal breakfasts is nothing short of inspiring. I'm going to go to grad school and get away from corporate HR. I've decided that, and I'm not sure how to get more specific than that just yet, but I've got some ideas. Maybe I can bounce them off of you when I see you later this month, and if if I decide on some sort of law, get ready for me to hit you up with questions.

So, congratulations on the work you've done, and thank you for letting me follow along. To me, watching your growth has been exciting, and empowering, and I'm incredibly, incredibly proud of you. Your presence alone has helped me get off of the brake pedal, and now you're helping me step on the gas too. You've done this not through any special effort towards me, but just by living your truth and letting me be nearby for it. I'm incredibly excited to witness the rest of your story and you have my support with whatever you do. I'm not writing this on a phone, so just pretend this sentence is a raised fist emoji.

Don't stop.

Jonat

[anepistolaryencounter]

Dear Monserrat,

Monserrat, I've come to believe that smiling, along with most of what it represents, is a habit. If you do it enough, you'll keep doing it, even when you mean it more some times than others. I mean, I'd probably agree with your idea that I'm happier than most of my peers, but it's not continuous by any means. Still, I'm kind of glad that I project that. Hopefully it's infectious, you know? And besides, the really good masks take a few years to perfect. I think I grew up without a lot of those intangible things that make people happy and being able to stick through that taught me contentedness in the long run. Or, that hope is never really absent. Like with your story. I know I speak from an outside perspective and risk the appearance of pretending to know what being a first generation American is like when I say this. But what I read was that your parents dreams would take a little longer, not that they wouldn't happen. And while I don't have the determination to back up that kind of hope, you strike me as the type that would. Anyway, I think that's the attitude that helps me at the hotline. The people that call all want to keep living, they just need someone to convince them of it. And if you can show them the hope that lives in their friends, families, passions and dreams, they'll be much quicker to find that hope the next time they're in the darkness. I suppose I kinda stumbled into my positive attitude and I know that other people fight every day for what I have by accident, so the least I can do is try and share it with those who need it most desperately. So, that might be altruism, but my decision to join the military isn't. That was all for me. I'd be a liar if I said the college money wasn't a big carrot to chase, but I think I had to prove to myself that I wasn't a coward. Or maybe I felt bad having floated through the first 18 years of life and wanted to plant my feet and do something bigger and scarier than I had done before. I guess I did it for some of those intangible things I'd been missing and I think I got what I was looking for. Plus, I haven't had a bad hair day in years, so that's nice.  It's an experience that I couldn't have gotten anywhere else, and it's inspired me quite a bit for me to show myself that being a soldier is something I'm capable of. 

And I know the military isn't the only way I could have gotten that experience.  It came entirely from being in a commitment I couldn't talk myself out of.  I had to create some courage and self-confidence because there was no other option.  I could see that coming from your new counseling position.  You're going to see a lot of humanity's ugly side, just trust that you're cleaning it up instead of wallowing in it.  And if it gets too heavy, just look to yourself as proof that not everyone is a monster.

Be sure to share any stories that come out of this!  I hope this letter finds you well and I can't wait to hear back from you.

-Chester

[anepistolaryencounter]

Dear Chester,

What has always boggled my mind about you is the fact that every time I've come across you whether in person or in pictures you have a big smile on your face. Now, I do not know much about your life whether you've suffered or the extent of your suffering but I cannot imagine someone on this earth who hasn't and just knowing that you're smiling no matter what is incredible to me. I'm sure it was your good nature that brought you to join the army, the opportunity to do good for everyone around you, but do you really believe that? Is altruism really your sole motivation? 

I think a mailman might have once thought about the frailty of a handwritten letter back when his/her job was more personal. When he not only knew which mailbox number belonged to which address but how many kids a family had or where they worked. Now, not so much . It has become mechanized, automatic along with other professions. 

I once contacted a suicide hotline and all they succeeded in was making me want to kill myself even more. But I'm sure you're much more convincing than they were. After high school I stayed in Las Vegas, my dreams of going to university elsewhere crushed by insufficient monetary funds. I wish someone had told my parents that immigrating to the U.S. was not going to be enough for a brighter future for their children.  I'm no longer upset, that feeling as been abased by the fact that I really do not know what I'm doing with my life anyway. I'm twenty years old now when I was fifteen I thought I would have had my shit together by now. No such luck. I work at a counseling center, trying to affirm the idea that not everybody in this world is a sick fuck to small children. From the stories I've heard, I'm really not quite sure if there is much truth to that.

Well, I am equally as enthused by this venture into the mind that rests on your head, or beside your head, or outlining your body, I guess science hasn't really answered that question yet. I have a problem being overly confident, but I enjoy representing somebody so sure of themselves. Now, this is what is so great about the human psyche the fact that in actuality I can honestly say I have petty-low self-worth and I am in constant doubt. But besides you after reading this, who would know?

Take care,

Monserrat

[anepistolaryencounter]

Dear Monserrat,

I don't think I'm good at writing letters. I wrote your name at the top, sat here for twenty minutes wondering what to say, and started this sentence. But maybe practice makes perfect and maybe the thoughts will come a I write. 

Writing the date on this also makes me realize how long it's been. I graduated in 2011, left home, signed my life away to the government, and built a new life without exchanging more than a few words. That's crazy. That blows my mind, and I'm glad I get the chance to change that with my letter.

More than anything, I'm excited to learn about what you've done with the past few years. And I do mean excited, because I've always had this idea that you're a pretty brilliant person. I can't say where that came from, since I know there probably wasn't enough personal interaction with us while we were in school to create that sort of opinion. I've just always connected 'Monserrat' with big thoughts and strong opinions and lots of books. Maybe that's just Tumblr speaking.

That reminds me, what do you think a mailman thinks when he delivers something like this? Handwritten address on the envelope, the weight of a few thin sheets of paper. I think I would be a bit surprised to be handling something that's so clearly a personal letter. I'd wonder who communicates by snail-mail these days and I'd wonder about our situation. Letters are a big deal in basic training for instance. Or maybe I'd just throw it in the mailbox and get on with my day.

I might as well catch you up on what I've been doing. I think I told you before that I had plans to join the Army after high school. Did that, grew up a bit, moved to Reno, went to school for accounting, and got a job at a call center convincing people to not kill themselves. It's rewarding work, but that kind of stress has really darkened my sense of humor. So I apologize in advance if I offend you with the intention of being funny.

That's all I can think to say. I'm completely thrilled to hear about your life and for this to become a conversation.

Your friend,

Chester