Hi. It’s been a while.
It’s my birthday. My real birthday. It comes only every 4 years and when I was little it meant so much more to me - but today, in the best way, has been ordinary.
I woke up to sun through my window. It’s been pouring on and off for weeks and then the past week and a half - nothing but sun.
I had cake for breakfast - as I have for my past two birthdays, because “Birthdays have to start with cake Jane, come on!” (This years cake was earl grey and lavender topped Little lopsided teacups made of chocolate. It was delicious.)
But it is Monday, so I have to work. I was told repeatedly to take the day off, or to celebrate on Sunday. But I love my job, and I love my real birthday, so I put on my favourite sweater (a yellow one I bought this year), wrapped Adele in her coat, and hopped onto our regular bus and headed into work, dropping her off at school on the way.
I spent the day like I always do, chasing paint covered children, spending hours on the phone with school administration and pulling multicoloured feathers from my hair. It was amazing.
Our spring program will soon be under way and we’re adding a few photography and music classes for the older kids. I’m genuinely excited because no matter how adorable the kids are when they’re really young - they need these classes more when they’re older. It’s easy when they’re little, they’re happy to dip their hands in the paint and drag them strait across the canvas. They don’t worry about mess, they don’t think about judgement- they’re just creating a little Galaxy of their own on a sheet of paper.
But when they get older, things get complicated. Things get harder. The program is mostly for a part of town where there aren’t as many resources and things can be complex. There are province mandated requirements for the families - the fees are small and sometimes entirely covered but they need to meet certain requirements. Attendance being one of them and Transport is still our biggest problem. Just getting kids to their class can be hard. We’re working on a solution but mostly it’s on the parents to get their kids to class, and if they’re working, or if their lives are more complicated than that - things can often fall flat.
I’m finding - it’s not just the kids though who need the classes. It helps the parents too. They don’t often come to class but the program requirements mean that they have to be more involved- and that can be hard. Because it can mean asking for help, when you feel like you should be able to do it on your own.
And asking for help- it’s something we all have to learn to do. With all the help I got putting together this program, you would think I could easily ask for a little more when I need it. But we grow up thinking that asking for help means being weak, but the last two years I’ve been the most productive and happy I’ve ever been. And I’ve had to ask for help again and again, for favours, for rides, for opinions or ideas…
Sometimes it feels impossible but asking makes you stronger. I used to think asking meant needing help, because I so often needed help, needed protection, needed saving even… Even when I was fighting tooth and nail for myself. Even when I didn’t want to ask. Especially when I didn’t want to ask.
But it wasn’t just help, it’s love. Part of asking is letting people answer, instead of anticipating their response, anticipating or expecting their rejection or failure. It’s putting enough faith in them and yourself to just… Let them answer.
I’m 24 today (or 7 - if you’re only counting real birthdays). And I’ve had a lot of help from a lot of different people over the years.
Three years ago I picked up a camera and started filming myself. I was sharing pieces of myself with you, but in a way I was also asking for something. I was reaching out into what felt like a void with my hand outstretched.
When we share with an audience, be it two people in your living room or the entirety of the Internet- we think we’re giving something away- but we’re equally getting something back. I got to hear your stories, your wishes, your hopes and dreams, your sadness and your joys and when I first started, when I first asked - I felt like this sad lonely person on an island.
And when I tell people about the year and a half I spent vlogging they tend to focus on what I shared- that I was too open or that I gave too much away, but what they don’t understand it that I got so so much back.
Thank you. Thank you so much for every little but we shared. Thank you for giving when I asked.