I am no stranger to blogging. I blogged a long journey almost 20 years ago, with a good following. Then Facebook became a thing and I got the connection I needed to the outside world that way instead. That blog is now dusty and unloved in Blogger land somewhere.
My life has changed dramatically since that time, and I now find myself two thirds-ish the way through a PhD (that’s assuming I complete it in the next century).
Over the last 15 years I have been battling a life between two worlds – that of the Aboriginal woman that I am, and that of a public servant in a colonial bureaucracy. A colonial bureaucracy where every day white people decide what is best for mob. During my work day I’m required to speak a completely different language just to get by. Apparently I’ve done it well, and my career has been solid. Mostly accepted in white society. In the last few years I’ve become a PhD candidate. Initially I thought this was another different world, with another different language. But soon enough I realised it was just another colonial bureaucracy, where an Aboriginal woman was at the bottom of the food chain. Not even an expert in my own culture. Nope, that title was reserved for the old white anthropologists…they were loud and proudly the ‘experts’ in Indigenous culture. To the point of seeing my own experiences as wrong, and telling me what my experience was and what the solutions were to mob dilemmas. They hate public servants and yet resemble everything about public servants I also struggle with.
And now I find out I also have ADHD. Another world, another way of life. Always there, except now it has a name. Three worlds I need to walk in, to attempt to understand all the rules (written and unwritten). Trying to fit into all of them, yet not quite fitting in to any of them. Much more complicated than a square peg in a round hole. And yet here I am, ironically writing a PhD about this very issue, and how to teach those who are blessed to walk in only one world…who design the very fabric of the world… teach them how to treat me as an equal… to know that as a square peg, I don’t want to be jammed into a round hole… I want you to make a hole that allows me to be me. So that I can also walk in just one world. Be who I am without question.