by Brook Sexton

(Editors' note: In addition to being a member of the Minnesota Bulletin's new editorial team and serving on our affiliate's scholarship committee, Brook Sexton helps to change lives wherever she goes—through her example and by her patient and wise teaching and mentoring. It is a treat to have her drop some knowledge here):

In the musical Hamilton, there is a song called "who lives, who dies, and who tells your story." A central character, Eliza, asks the question: "when my time is up, will I have done enough?" It's a question I also ask myself and has led me to continually seek opportunities to grow and learn. Early learning experiences as a child gave me a foundation to build upon, and then, blindness training at the Louisiana Center (sister center to our own BLIND, Inc.), gave me a framework to continue learning on my own and with the help of friends, family, and mentors.

I have applied structured discovery in many areas of my life—in particular, when learning to get around new cities. Since going through blindness training, I have lived in four different cities where I had to learn how to travel independently in each of them. When I wanted to learn about fashion, I applied structured discovery by hiring a fashion consultant to helped me redesign my wardrobe; after working with her a few times, and asking lots of questions, I have a much better idea how to ask the questions I need to find fashion items that fit my style. I've applied structured discovery every time I faced something unfamiliar and intimidating like changing careers from teaching to working in the corporate environment. Through it all I have asked the question: have I done enough?

In one area of my life, I didn't realize until recently that I could apply structured discovery, but in actuality I have been applying it all along. At the time I graduated from the training center, I was dating someone that I had met in training. He was (and still is) a wonderful person. However, I made a decision to end the relationship unilaterally and unfairly, because somehow I thought I would become a very different person as a result of training. I got it into my head that I was going to become the college student who had a date every weekend. Although training did indeed change me, but I did not suddenly become a completely different person. And so, instead of a vastly different dating life, I finished my college career without more than a half dozen single dates.

As I reflected on this experience, I saw it as a failure. Here I had given up something that could have lasted long-term for something intangible and frankly unreachable because I am not someone who seeks the spotlight. This shook my confidence.

In graduate school, both of my classmates in my cohort were outgoing and talkative. They were the type of people I thought I needed to be if I were to be successful socially. I tried really hard to be more like them, and the more I tried, the more frustrated I became. In my head, I wasn't doing enough.

After graduate school, I took a job in Hawaii, where I met Katie Keim, a dear friend and mentor. She helped me begin to accept myself for who I am and not for whom I thought I needed to be. It has only been in the past couple of years that I have realized how influential she was in my life, because it has taken me many years to understand what she was trying to teach me. We took a group of students to the Grand Canyon and I was struggling with my confidence. I didn't think I was good enough or doing enough. One evening as we were setting up camp, a monsoon came in, and instead of sleeping outside as we had the previous nights, the tents were set up. I was feeling sorry for myself, because I thought in order to fit in, I needed to be a tent mate with Katie. My coworker said to me: "It's not because we don't like you. It's just how things landed. We like you just fine. So stop making it miserable for everyone." Essentially she was telling me that my value didn't change because of who slept in the same tent.

After leaving Hawaii, I went through a very dark and hard time. I was homesick for the islands, and my confidence had been shaken by multiple experiences that kept me stuck in believing I needed to be something different. This made my time in Salt Lake a hard but necessary part of my journey.

Seven years ago I moved to Minneapolis. I changed my career path and hoped that this change would snap me out of some of the habits that have limited me socially. I quickly learned that the kind of change I was looking for was quite similar to what I thought would happen in my dating life after training. Essentially, instead of trying to be something I wasn't, I needed to learn to love myself for who I am.

It was okay that I was immature in social settings. It was okay to be Brook. It's okay to try out a friendship and if it doesn't work or doesn't turn out the way I think it should, it's okay. It's okay if I prefer small groups. And most importantly, it's not someone else's responsibility to help me fit in.

In structured discovery, we say that learning doesn't begin until the student no longer believes they need the teacher. It wasn't until I realized that I was in control of my social life that I began to really learn and grow in this area.

Your lifelong struggle may be cane travel, Braille, technology, or something unrelated to a blindness skill, but maybe you too have an area that you struggle with and will have to keep applying structured discovery in your life.

Six months ago I wrote this letter to my mom:

Dear Mama Bear,

I told my sister Jennifer that now I have a word or theme of the year that I adopt on my birthday and a song that I will adopt on yours that reminds me of you and the journey we are on together. When the list gets longer, I’ll create our playlist so that I can remember all of them at once.

For Valentine’s Day I got a gift from my dear friend Monica in the form of a singing telegram. It was a wonderful surprise and just the perfect message. Every time I hear this song I will think of her and her friendship. It is this song that I have chosen for this year because it symbolizes looking forward, remembering that I am loved, giving back, and that dreams can be achieved. I learned to dream about possibilities from you and I also learned to be a little bit afraid of failing as I pursued my dreams, but through it all I know that you love me and want the absolute best for me.

In the spirit of moving forward and trying to have greater confidence in my dreams I made some big decisions these past several months. I am both excited and terrified. I keep reminding myself that as I move forward the path will become clear and I will find what I need to succeed. There will always be hard times, but I feel confident life has many more good days or moments in the future.

In March I returned from spending the winter with my sisters in Utah with every intension of either renewing my lease on my apartment in Minneapolis or moving to California or Utah to live with one of my siblings. These seemed like the only possibilities. Then a question came to my mind: “Brook, what does moving forward look like for you?” The answer to that question surprised me, and I knew that the choice wasn’t quite as simple as the 3 options I gave myself.

Visualizing what moving forward looked like became part of my meditation practice, and I learned so much about myself during this process that will continue and evolve for years to come. In my future, I saw myself in a home where people (including me) wanted to gather—a place where people felt safe from the harshness of the world. I imagined a place where everyone knew they were special and that someone loved them, a place where it is okay to be vulnerable And brave. I imagined myself being more secure and confident in my ability to find my tribe, both inside and outside of my home. I imagined myself acting upon opportunities to give freely to those around me.

I determined that I needed a jumping off place to achieve my goals. Every time I have moved from one state to another, I have tried something new and tried to get myself to grow in new ways. Instead of moving out of Minnesota to move forward, this time I am changing something different—I’m buying a condo!

I am moving from my studio to a two bedroom place. I have no idea what I will do with all that space, especially the extra bedroom, but the possibilities that have run through my head include simply using it as a guest room, becoming a foster parent, finding a roommate, making it an office, or something I cannot foresee right now.

It’s less than a week until I buy this new place. I am hopeful for my future. I know that magically depression and insecurity will not disappear, but I have enlisted friends and family to help me stay focused on my small and large goals, and I feel confident that, even if I do not reach every single goal I have set for myself immediately, I will be striving forward—and that is enough. It is enough to be going somewhere and making mistakes instead of standing still waiting for things to change.

Dearest mama bear, I love you with all my heart, and as you join me in this new adventure, I know that this year’s song will keep me centered:

“I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow

And each road leads you where you want to go

And if you’re faced with a choice, and you have to choose

I hope you choose the one that means the most to you

And if one door opens to another door closed

I hope you keep on walkin' 'till you find the window

If it’s cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile

But more than anything, more than anything

My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to

Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small

You never need to carry more than you can hold

And while you’re out there getting where you’re getting to

I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too …”

I am enough! I can make a difference.

Love always,

Brook