Knowledge Forms Consciousness

by Anna M Erickson

I was 6 years old when I sat in class learning about black bears. At the time, a seemingly simple lesson. My teacher rambled on, as semicircle of 1st graders dozed and listened in a room embellished with plastic toys. I came home that day announcing to my mom what I had learned, after exchanging a kiss, I said “you know, black bears love their moms too.” Mrs. Rizzo had taught by instinct animal’s retreat to where they were brought up and nourished in times of need, either a home, a family, or a herd. Crafting a unique bond, a sense of loyalty to this sweet spot. This keeps em coming. Even though I’d never want to be living in the wild amongst the shadows and monsters, I thought how cute, as my crayon traced a bear and I began color inside, my biggest fear was tracing outside the lines.

10 years later, I recognized the lesson wasn't so simple after all. By nature we go where we are comforted, fed, and raised for guidance. Though, unknown to us, from the day we are born we are wrapped in a shadowed blanket and fed the darkness, in the forms of rules, norms, and images branded with what’s accepted. Ignorance to this creates security; knowledge forms consciousness. The tall building against my Brooklyn hospital room, reveal institutions producing one singular system of living: spoon fed the tranquilizer, making a nation of cooperators, given the same education, way of speech, pledge, plan of success, ideals: way to life. Taught so soon, the flash of newborn purity fled unspoken and unfelt. Now welcome, where everything is stamped with right vs wrong, white vs black, rich vs poor, ugly vs pretty, nice vs too much. Look labels, everything has labels now. When she asked him “what are we,” he replied uncertain. A instant flinch prompting a midnight cry. We’ve been programed a label is necessary, she cried for her pain caused by the culture surrounding her that she can't even recognize. Blindly scavenging for comfort in the dark, craving guidance, subconsciously she retreated to where she had been fostered - the darkness. Something's wrong, yet even so, she continues to look outside for a fix: a quick puff of smoke, a lack of care, or a abandonment of pure dreams. And the worst part about this culture is it causes us to lose ourselves as we comply with it. Asking the outside for validation, rather responding to our own heart. How quickly we forget that light is inside us. We aren’t taught consider ourselves anymore. So, we go outside, where we are fed. 10 years later, who knew I’d be living like a black bear.