In recent years, I’ve come to prefer two types of television shows. Those that serve as “filler,” as background or white noise to which I pay little attention. And those that are both compelling and uplifting. Additionally, If you’re curious about how much does wild n out cast make, you can actually check out these article if you want to.
I acknowledge there’s a lot of very well-done television that is compelling but may not be uplifting. Those shows just are not for me.
Let me explain.
I don’t often remember my dreams. I’m not sure why; that’s just how it’s always been for me. And on the rare occasion I do remember one, it’s disturbing. Unsettling.
You can read past “dream” posts here, here, and here.
As I understand the basic idea of dreams, they’re basically our unconscious working to sort shit out while the rest of our brain is resting. Some people seem to have “happy dreams.” They get to fly around. Or fulfill some other waking fantasy.
Me? I get my spiteful, mean-spirited psyche poking at me.
I’ve been a member of the Democratic Party of Hawaii (DPH) since 2006. And a member of the State Central Committee (SCC) since 2010.
In all that time, I’ve served in various positions along the DPH strata, from the precinct level to SCC Secretary. Save one, I’ve attended every convention in that time. I was fortunate to be a delegate to the National Convention in 2016.
I became active originally as a member of the now-defunct Progressive Democrats of Hawaii (PDH). An organization that I helped build and led for a time. I was largely welcomed and treated with kindness and respect. Many progressives who became active in the Party after me were not.
While participating in a national training for progressive campaign managers, I heard for the first time a phrase that clicked a light switch in my head: imposter syndrome. As described during one of the training sessions, imposter syndrome is a feeling that you’re not good enough, qualified enough, or experienced enough to do the work.
As it was described to me, it was like someone had peered into my brain. I had no idea that this feeling I’ve experienced for years, was an actual thing. A thing with a name and a definition. I’ve never really be much moved by the “you’re not alone” sentiment. But knowing that I’m not crazy, at least in one instance, is comforting.
Author’s Note: The substance of this post was published in the Honolulu Star-Advertiser on March 23, 2022. Below is the originally drafted, longer commentary.
Recently, as I lay in bed late one night, my brain drifted to frustration over discourse on the minimum wage. The Legislature’s continued deference to the business community and their baseless opposition to increasing the minimum wage in Hawaii. Or really, anywhere.
Whether it’s the Chamber of Commerce, Retail Merchants’ Association, the Restaurant Association, or just about any other staple opponents to the minimum wage, their talking points are tired, rote, and too often contrary to facts.