The Fear of Being Riddikulus

Last night I was returning back from a chilly walk through Galway City, serenaded by the sounds of a street musician, drafting this post in my head and bursting with ideas. I'd just returned from two very thought-provoking events: one a lecture on translation of humor in Harry Potter, the other a showing of the 2010 film Howl, based on the text and trial of Allen Ginsberg's (in)famous poem. I came up with a theme for my next blog entry (this one- and even decided upon that snappy title), but when I got back to my apartment, hurriedly opened up my laptop and prepared to type my newest piece, I found two messages from family members indicating that they were reading this blog: both very positive and supportive, but a reminder that if I was really going to air my fears on the internet, they would be read. And known! And that, in itself, was a bit of a block...so we'll see how this goes. 

Fear has been a major character in my life for the vast majority of it: found primarily the terrible Shy that plagued me through adolescence, that still crops up in uncomfortable social situations and paralyzes and then returns with a heaping portion of regret for not doing, speaking, or trying. There have been times I think I've beaten it, but it generally returns, though I've gotten a lot better at, in the very least, not letting it defeat me. 

Travelling to Ireland itself hasn't been scary- I haven't been truly afraid to physically travel since Spain five years ago, a trip that I've always seen as a critical turning point in my journey towards self-confidence. I wasn't really afraid either, the numerous times I've been wandering around here lost, and I have little doubt that I'll end up back home in one piece (although I did halfway shut my thumb in a door hinge today- that really hurt). No, my fears have always been more social ones. Would I make friends? How could I cope away from everyone for so long? Am I being true to myself? Am I doing all that I can to be happy? During the Harry Potter in translation lecture, in which many wonderful things were said that are probably only that exciting to me, the speaker made reference to Rowling's use of the spell 'Riddikulus' to defeat the Boggart, a creature which exists solely to terrify its opponent. The defense works to make this fear 'ridiculous', and the monster is defeated by laughter. I've known this: I've read it countless times, but I'm not sure how fully I thought about the concept before. Laugh at your fears, and they'll go away. It's easier to face in a group- that was also part of the lesson. 

My fears: confrontation, vulnerability, humiliation, isolation, being in the spotlight and in general being seen as wrong or ridiculous, are all internal, and can therefore be got rid of- maybe even by learning to laugh at them, and at myself. (Self-deprecating humor really is a winner.) Since I've been in Ireland, I've spent a fair amount of time alone, and I've found that I don't always mind nearly as much as I would have in years past, and that the ability to do so with confidence has really made life much better and helped me to meet people I wouldn't have otherwise known if I was hiding away and not going to things because I didn't know who else would be there. It's a skill I hope comes back home with me at the end of all this. 

The other two major events that happened yesterday were my second weekly session at the homework club and the Howl showing. In my class surrounding the work we're doing with the Scoil Bhride kids, we've talked a lot about their need for a confidence boost, and the importance of building up their desire to achieve: which will go a lot farther than helping them finish a word search. If we're to accomplish this, it's going to be a slow and painful process, one of which we might never know the true results. Watching Howl later that night, I was struck with the power behind the words of the artist, the community's inability to respect it (for the most part), but even more so with his own laborious journey to even identify what his soul wanted to express. At the Harry Potter talk, one distinguished professor made a comment criticizing Rowling's use of complicated words and verbs to describe simple concepts- making it more difficult to translate and presumably inaccessible to her child audience. At this, I wanted to scream. No! Didn't the speaker just finish explaining about all the pirate translations churned out because of the extreme demand for the story? This is the mentality seen at failing schools which don't trust the power of kids to learn and grow, if only it's made interesting or desirable to do so. That was the argument of the Howl prosecutor who questioned whether Ginsberg could have used other phrases to convey his point, rather than the obscenities that could in theory corrupt a shallow-minded population.  And that, in a way, is the fear that holds us all back- do things the simple, normal way- or people will think you're ridiculous! Riddikulus! 

But I disagree. I'm learning ridicule is only effective if you allow it to be, and while I've yet to figure out a good way to make all problems seem funny and disappear, I know that everything is much easier if you let yourself laugh: the best medicine, they would say. So I'm still thinking on ways to improve the homework club, still forging my way through this country, fighting inner dragons and buying second-hand copies of Harry Potter books. Maybe this post is a bit too personal, but I'm still going to put it up. Not all adventures are physical- this was one of thought, and for me, still just as exciting.