It was my birthday this past week and something must be said for the egregious way I was treated by the Muhlenberg community and the community of my friends. I couldn’t be angrier. My birthday is open to the public on Facebook.com, if any of you care to find it, and yet I only received 25 posts wishing me a happy birthday this year. I have 417 Facebook friends, I remember a time when that meant something. This is the first year where there was no red carpet, no grand parade, just a postcard from the office of admissions reminding me that they are the only ones who really care and you better believe I’m pissed. I deserve so much more than that. But it isn’t just my lay about lackadaisical so-called friends, if you can even call them that, it’s also you.
The Muhlenberg community is built on the understanding of kindness. We open doors, but it appears that’s all we do as I received no recognition on my birthday. I wore one of those birthday cone hats for the entire day of my birth and the most I got from a stranger was a “please sir stop yelling, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” how is that for he’s a jolly good fellow? Any celebrations I did receive were immediately overshadowed by those celebrating the likes of Eddie Murphy, Jane Goodall and Zach Liss. You, the reader and the community, didn’t do enough for me.
When I was a kid, my birthday was MY day. All eyes were on me and I could do no wrong. It was my party and I cried because I wanted to. Sixty to 70 children I couldn’t care less about would bombard my house with gifts and praise for a whole day, all for me. I would dance, I would scream, I would cry and they would all cheer. Those were the best days of my life. But that time in my life is done and gone according to you. This year my tears went unkempt, my screams went unrequited and my dance went unaccepted. Each day I become more anonymous as my day becomes less and less of mine with each year, I am finally an adult and I deserve to be treated as such.
I just want to return to those days, when I mattered. I have no skills, I have no heart, I have no time, but I do have my birthday. My birthday is all I have to make me special. I’m not asking for much, just one day out of the year. One day for everyone to put their phones down and raise their arms in celebration of me. I know it may seem that I am making a big deal of something childish and immature, but is that such a bad thing in our world? Every day is another reminder that we have no power as the world is dying, cash is king and Rob Schneider is doing well. The systems in place serve to benefit those at the top and our only defense is supporting each other, reminding each other that we do matter and we are valued and we can do something, anything with support. Those in power attempt to take everyone else’s power, to make them think that they are less than and don’t matter, to take their humanity. But I am a human and I do matter. I was born and I was born on a day. April 3rd 1998. To celebrate a birthday is not to pat someone on the back for surviving, but instead to shove our humanity and our voice into the faces of our oppressors. I celebrate in defiance. So, it actually really sucks of you that nobody gave me presents and you better keep that in mind for next year.
