See yourself in the future.

Because not everybody does.

Hi! It’s been a while since I last sent out my newsletter, so I’d like to ease back into your inbox by sharing an epiphany, and I hope this Aha! moment speaks to you the same way it spoke to me. I often have flashbacks to when I was an impressionable teenager — and as I now realize — in desperate search of guidance and acceptance. When I was in high school, I would hang out at my professor’s stamperia in the city. He was my favorite professor, and as he would often say, la 3A was his favorite class of students. Oftentimes, I would show up after school and just follow him around, watching as he masterfully coated intricately etched sheets of zinc or copper with thick black ink, pass the stained metal through a press, and imprint the drawings onto textured paper to reveal breathtaking works of art. Every print reveal was truly an experience.

Buongiorno prof! I’d walk through the door and he would always greet me with a big smile, but he would also have this surprised look on his face, puzzled by the fact that this 16-year-old kid would rather spend her time talking to him, than wander downtown with her friends — or at least that's what I think he thought. He was in his late 60s, maybe already in his 70s, and we would talk about a lot of things. We’d comment on soccer and pop culture, joke about my infatuation with Kaká, or my classmate’s obsession with Elisabetta Canalis, and even dabble a little in conversations about politics. Classical music on public radio was always playing in the background, and I would browse through his art books and catalogs, some of which were commissioned by him for exhibits and fairs. I loved the smell of the pigmented oils in the air. Sometimes the artists he printed for — a majority of them being old Italian men — would visit the stamperia, and they too would find my presence surprising, almost amusing. They would give me quick glances as they checked on the progress of their artworks. I didn’t care. I always smiled back and exchanged a few words. I just wanted to be surrounded by art, learn, and be in a calm environment. Their amusement actually amused me! This was a very fond memory of mine, until I hated thinking about it. The more I got older, and the more the thought of everyone's smiles felt more like chuckles. Oh my gosh, were they all chuckling at me?! Probably not, but I felt so sad for my 16-year-old-self, and that feeling angered me. In some veiled way it seemed as if I didn’t belong, but it’s perfectly normal for an art student to want to spend their time immersed in art, right? I smile at the recollection of not paying them any mind, because it felt right to be there. I needed it. But I also remember that I never over stayed my welcome, leaving when silences started to fill the room.

Then one day, a sudden epiphany. I was thinking back at this one time at University when a fellow student from another class passed by me as I was sketching figures for a project. She let out a surprised smirk when she saw my work, and asked if one of my classmates had designed them. She truly couldn’t believe they were my sketches. With my hand hovering over my papers like a bored magician about to do a magic trick, I told her they were mine. I was stunned and annoyed at her question, and it showed on my face and in my voice. We had never really interacted before that moment, but that didn’t stop her from the disrespect. Unfortunately, I had come to internalize situations like this one, and when they happened, they would catch me off-guard every time. This memory made me realize that I was bothered by these people’s amusement at my presence. I was bothered by their disbelief in my abilities and their conviction that I had none. Bothered by the fact that I found myself in these situations, and upset for expecting their recognition, a connection even. Simply put, I knew my worth and they did not. Here's my sudden realization: why expect anything from people who don’t see you? What opportunities could I get if these were the people handing them out? Who would mentor you, hire you, recognize your work, if they can’t even see you? Quite frankly, there are people who won’t invest in you because they don’t envision you in the future, either. I was so hard on myself. I didn’t choose those circumstances.

Don't waste your time settling for acceptance, because to be seen is something entirely different. I invite you to see yourself in the spaces you want to be in, to see yourself in the present, and to especially see yourself in the future. It will push you to keep moving towards your dreams, because you see yourself there.

Thanks for reading this. I hope these words meant something to you. The reason I’ve been absent from my Substack is because I’ve been creating content and supporting projects. Check them out! UNLEARN, Connected: The Sicilian Experience, DARE Documentary.