A Penny on the Verge

Pivot. Redirect. Reroute. Turn. Change course.

Each of these words represents the act of changing one’s direction. 

Now, consider these words: 

Brink, cusp, verge, edge, tipping point. 

Each of these words conjure imagery of being at the borderline of some event or occurrence. 

For the past several month’s I’ve been feeling like the penny in the water droplet experiment. Last year, I began to tell the world about my small, Black-owned, woman-owned business, Viola Lou Studio, the namesake of my fraternal and maternal grandmothers, and over time I worked to complete a self-published workbook for those seeking to expand their reflexive practice—Introspection. 

With each new action connected to nurturing my work as a creative, I could feel the molecules in me shifting. The craft fair I participated in with my mother as a vendor, the posts I shared on Instagram and TikTok declaring I was selling the Introspection workbook, and the simple acts of mailing each order at the University post office..those were the droplets. 

While I know I have much work to do as I continue to build Viola Lou Studio as a business, I feel a strong energy speaking inside of me. That energy says that I’m on the brink of something new and standing at the crux of a meaningful moment in my life—the water is about to spill over the penny. I cannot lie and say this feeling hasn’t been brewing in tandem with the worsening sociopolitical climate. With each executive order, breaking news story detailing the curtailment of anti-oppression initiatives, and conversation about how those of us in education continue to do our work within the sea of barriers, I become more disenchanted with the institution of education and more called to labor that is rooted in community, creative practice, joy, social justice, collective freedom, and flourishing.

Whether good or bad, I am open and preparing for what the future has in store. My daily practice of prayer, manifesting, and journaling our guiding me through this period as I stand at the pivot and recognize I’m on the verge of something great. I’m also taking the time to research and read as much as I can to discern how to move forward as informed and grounded as possible. Below is a list of the texts (both written and visual) I’m engaging to support my work as I navigate being the metaphorical penny: 

• Artpreneur: The Step-by-Step Guide to Making a Sustainable Living from Your Creativity - Miriam Schulman 

• Pivot: The Only Move that Matters is Your Next One  - Jenny Blake

• “How Spirituality and My Self Love Journey as a Black Woman Artist is Inspiring my New Art: Bloom Era” - by A.O. Hamer - The Artist 

• Self-Honeymoon: A Guide to Creating Sustainable Self-Care Rituals - O’Shea René

• Young, Gifted, and Black: A New Generation of Artists - The Lumpkin-Boccuzzi Family Collection of Contemporary Art 

I share this post to declare my awareness and acknowledgement of the space I’m existing in right now emotionally, spiritually, and intellectually. This work is deeper than career, job, or hobby, this work is calling and I am dedicated to putting in the effort to make meaning of this period however dark it may feel right now as I reflect on the world and my role in the academy. 

Battling Head-in-Sand Syndrome as a Creative

How often have each of us buried our heads in the sand in an attempt to tune out noise, make our reality feel less real, avoid facing hard truths, or delay challenging tasks out of fear? Whether we’ve feared feeling emotions of inadequacy, feared the consequences of our actions (ahem, procrastination), feared others’ judgment, or feared that we just don’t have the means to accomplish a given task, fear has played the antagonizing villain role in the story of our barriers to success, peace, freedom, and self-actualization. That said, when we finally face reality and confront the challenge or task at hand, we typically find fear helped us create a gargantuan, vicious, blood-thirsty, seething monster that was just a cute bunny holding a butter knife. What we were actually hiding from and avoiding was not worth fearing at all. In fact, the time we spent in denial believing we had zero resources to deal with our situation created a bigger problem and even additional issues that were not originally present (e.g., loss of trust in relationships, more work, tighter deadlines, etc.).

With all this dramatic talk one might wonder whether I’m referring to a major life event, some form of trauma, or some other catastrophic situation; however, I’m not—well, not exactly. I use this narrative and metaphor of burying one’s head in the sand to help myself and other creatives of all sorts (e.g., writers, painters, dancers, singers, sculptors, etc.) as we contend with the tasks associated with creating our work. I first heard the phrase, “I was just burying my head in the sand” as an explanation from a doctoral advisee who disappeared on me for several months during a difficult semester she was experiencing. I was empathetic to her situation and recognized I had certainly been there myself and I am slowly emerging from a head-in-sand situation as I approach a writing deadline as I type this sentence. Since hearing the advisee use the phrase (albeit similar to the ostrich effect in which people avoid negative information, but not quite the same), it has provided helpful and powerful imagery for me to name behavior I’ve engaged in myself (typically for days or sometimes weeks) when I’ve neglected to complete a task in a timely manner or withdrawn from a situation completely.

At the root of head-in-sand behaviors for many creatives—and dare I say, ALL academics (yes, we ARE creatives, too!)—are limiting beliefs about who we are and what we are capable of accomplishing. Even after numerous achievements, we still second-guess, downplay, self-deprecate, resist self-promotion, and even avoid public recognition because of limiting beliefs born and bred from the dominant, oppressive narratives society has fed us (i.e., real [fill in the blank with a creative of your choice] talk, look, think, act, and work like this). If someone were to tell me during my first semester in graduate school, I’d still be experiencing the same feelings of impostor syndrome (in another context) as an associate professor with dozens of publications, conference presentations, and research experiences under my belt, I wouldn’t believe them. I’d call them a liar because there would be no way that somebody who co-edited a book, started a business, earned tenure, had two children, taught for more than a decade, and almost  40-years-old would be that unsure of themselves!  Alas, here I am.

By no complete fault of my own, I serve as one of many examples of Black women caught in the fray of anti-Blackness and sexism telling themselves they are not enough, consuming the lie that their ideas, their work, and they themselves are not worthy, leading to stress and burnout. hooks (2015) talked about such challenges in Sisters of the Yam: Black Women and Self-Recovery, when she said, “If [B]lack women have not learned to value our bodies then we cannot respond fully to endangering them by undue stress” (p. 41). These messages are enough to send anyone into states of constant anxiety and depression, but when added to the weight of working in fields and disciplines fueled by the economy of passing judgment (we’ll call it peer review, assessment, and evaluation in the context of higher education), the outcome can be immobilizing. It is no wonder people disappear into the sand or worse. In a world dedicated to productivity, efficiency, people-pleasing, and appealing to the masses, the reality is we’re all living in quicksand facing an inevitable situation of becoming buried in the neoliberal muck that is existing in a capitalist society.

So, what’s the answer?

First, don’t let yourself get buried in the sand. Traipse carefully around it and remind yourself that the fear you’re creating (no matter how anxiety producing) can be extinguished by resisting limiting beliefs you were socialized to operate from each day whether as a protective, silencing, or ascending mechanism.

For example, “People won’t like me if I say ’no’/ask for more time/disagree/ask questions.”

Or this one, “I’m not [insert adjective] enough to say/write/create/do that.”

Or maybe this one, too: “People who think/look/act/talk like me don’t [fill in the blank].”

Resist these limiting beliefs and turn them into empowering statements.

For example, “I can say ’no’ and still maintain meaningful relationships.”

Or this, “I am bold enough, informed enough, and creative enough to do this!”

And this one, too: “People like me do [blank].”

Second, give yourself permission to be the person you can look up to. Make a list of these role models, paper mentors (Hersey, 2022), and maybe even digital strangers to whom you feel close. Of course, remember, these are also people who are not perfect, and you do not know everything about them. They have likely experienced head-in-sand syndrome before, too. Then, ask yourself, “what would someone I look up to do/think/say in this situation?”

Likely, that possibility model would not bury their head in the sand. They might draw a boundary, rest, re-evaluate their plans, have a direct conversation with someone, interrogate the source of the tension and dissonance, collaborate with others, or find support in another way, but they wouldn’t withdraw completely. Burying your head in the sand takes you out of the conversation altogether. If you are committed to your vision and values, you will avoid head-in-sand syndrome because you know it doesn’t serve your greater purpose and when you finally emerge you will have to deal with the situation anyway.

All of these actions are easier said than done, but the sheer ability to recognize that you’re engaging in head-in-sand behavior may be just the tactic needed to avoid remaining in that space. So, whether you’re dealing with less than delightful feedback from someone (e.g., a reviewer, student, boss, colleague, etc.) or on the cusp of taking a big step in your work (e.g., a new project, a career move, etc.), remember: your fears are just little bunnies holding butter knives in monster disguises purchased from the Halloween City of oppression, and all you need to do is unveil the Scooby-doo villain of the day to figure out it was just meddling kids all along! You’ve always known what to do!

5 Lessons I Learned Self-Publishing My Own Workbook

In November, I decided to turn my Introspection workbook (a workbook I created back in 2020 for myself and students to support reflection over the winter break [the free version is here]) into a workbook-notebook hybrid. Other than publishing my scholarship as a faculty member, I had minimal experience self-publishing. Little by little though, I researched the process and forced myself to get the updated version of Introspection out into the world before the end of 2024. Creating an LLC, gaining a copyright, testing different printers, promoting on social media, and learning all of the other business aspects of publishing a book has been no easy feat, but I did it and I’m so proud Introspection is out into the world (see my Etsy to purchase)! 

I’m posting these lessons more as a reminder to myself; however, I hope they will be supportive to anyone else with a big goal or project they’re endeavoring to achieve this year. These are my lessons from this journey.

1. It’s okay to take a step back while you’re building - While I was working on getting Introspection completed last year, I reduced my time on Instagram and changed my workouts to walks (instead of cycling and lifting because they prevented me from multitasking) so I could spend more time researching and creating. Although I worried what people might think of my disappearance, I knew stepping back socially would help me focus. I’m so glad I took this time and space to build. You don’t have to explain. 

2. Feedback from people who care about you truly is a gift - There was a point when I believed Introspection was complete, but when I laid in bed at night trying to feel relief that I was finished, I felt dissonance. As an academic nothing I’ve ever written has been published without feedback; why would Introspection be any different? So, I sent Introspection out to several trusted friends and family members asking for their honest, constructive feedback. They delivered and I’m grateful for the gift of their suggestions, advice, and insights. They made the workbook stronger, more complete, and affirmed that the work was needed. In a world that tells us to guard our ideas and creations because theft is real, sharing yourself and your work in a trusted community can be a gift. 

3. Everything takes much longer than expected. Even still, don’t rush the process - From getting the book printed to learning how to set Etsy up properly, everything took much longer than I anticipated to the point that I just wanted to rush things done. However, each time I rushed I made a mistake that could have easily been prevented had I just waited. As with my art journey since 2018 and my slowly improving my watercolor practice, I can’t rush the process; patience is key.

4. You can’t manifest what you don’t say out loud to yourself. Speak your dreams out loud - I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want access to a softer life; a life of creativity, slowness, art, family, and good food. Unfortunately, my life as an academic (while wonderful and incredibly rewarding) is not that life. Full of busy-ness, judgment (read: evaluation) from all angles (i.e., from students, colleagues, reviewers, editors, accreditors, the public, etc.), meetings, and to-do lists that never, EVER end, I often long for more time to just think, create, and engage in dialogue with others as we dream about better worlds. My desire to live such a life cannot just be a secret I keep inside my heart in head, though. I can’t remember where I first heard the idea of “speaking your reality into being,” (probably my mother), but I’m a firm believer in this concept. I stand beside the notion that in order to manifest my dreams, I not only have to see it in my mind’s eye, but I need to say it out loud because the saying leads to the doing and such motivation can fuel the work that turns dreams into reality.

5. Good or bad, planned or not, failure or success; all roads leads to now - Like all people, I’ve navigated a range of positive and negative experiences. I believe each one has taught me something and has led me exactly where I need to be. This is why I remain open to the future God has planned for me even though I have no idea what that future holds. As I was putting together Introspection and revisiting old drawings from the past 6 years, I realized that just about everything I’ve created has led me to this point. Although my art style has evolved, my perspective has not and though I wasn’t able to articulate my point of view (or art style) as an artist then, it’s clear to me now what I was trying to say and have been saying all along. I love Black women and see our beauty, magic, and wisdom in the world every day and I dedicate my work to sharing that truth with all who will listen.

Of course, I’m still learning and will share as I continue on this journey. I just wanted to pause now to share because we don’t gate keep in this community 😉.