When I hastily bought my SAJA ticket and booked my flight on a lunch break at work, I had no idea what I had signed up for. I am actively avoiding being desperate in my jobhunt and trying to play to my strengths and how others view my strengths (since I'm such a harsh self-critic!). Seeing what skills people routinely endorse you for on LinkedIn is a good indicator of where you fall professionally and how your network views you. For me, the top 10 relevant skills are blogging, social media, event-planning, leadership development, PR, education, research, and advocacy.
While professionally I have pursued and am pursuing the sweet spot of connecting this variegated skill sets, I have never pitched my sailboat of writing out my safe harbor, but I have been yearing for a venture into the moors of freelancing and professional journalism.
So, on a bleary Saturday at dawn, I took the leap, giddy and nervous. I took the bus, questioning if this was technically gate-crashing since I have never been a "real" journalist, per se. But always penned these words, always telling stories--whether on stage, in person, or on paper. "Is that enough?" I wondered, wandering onto the meandering F train.
Feeling like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, "I'm oh-so-terribly late!" but resolved: make this matter. I walk the slick, rainweathered misty streets of the Village, turn the corner to NYU. Grab the elevator. And am uncharacteristically and unduly intimidated by my 9-floor travel companions. (A founder of SAJA and a NYU administrator and another distinguished attendee.) All these journalistic giants, in the field longer than my life, esteemed ambassadors. A girl of words, I am stunned silent."What am I even doing here?"
I find my nametag at registration, edit to add the smiley face that I am trying to feel. Fake it 'til you make it. YOU CAN CALL ME: Ray I say, introducing myself. Lost between worlds; even desis mistake me for who I am not. I am Maithreyi: not Maitri, not Mythili, not Maithi, not Maitreya. No.
Maithreyi: a name which has such a beautiful narrative origin--another story, another time.
I'd like to think that she'd approve of my nickname Ray which is gender-ambiguous and immediately associated with the sun: Aditya, my brother.
I enter a packed panel, choose an empty seat, tryna be quiet but can't quite help the quirky habits I keep. Notebook out, tweets in hand. Pen in left to keep thoughts from flying another anchor like the one I wear on my right hand. Right to stay in place, Left to keep moving forward, across the page.
I listen to these greats, these accomplisheds ( Where Journalism Meets Advocacy: @TheSamhita, @cupofjyo, @wwborders, & Moderated by @MythiliRao) trying to think back to how the world must have been when they started on their own paths. Where I must have been, had I been at all. Connecting myself to their stories, seeing how the past and present can take me through this uncharted, ever-promising future.
Meeting a fellow crusader (@A_Cob) trying to navigate these waters from opposite coasts: I, from the scintillating scientific shores of LA and my home bay state, she from the funky hip hop scene of Philly to the health-beat, trying to follow her own voice. We soak up the wisdom of our peers who have made it (Operation Start Up: @reckless, @ozy, @ryan_e_galloway, Moderated by @anjuliks).
More than words, I increasingly realize doing this work is about having a Nike approach (JUST DO IT.) and grit rather than over-thinking.
I enter the job fair, and instead of unfocused, unhelpful, glorified salespeople, I am faced with the people who have the power to give me what I may want, if I have the courage to ask for what I seek.
I forgo a 60-second pitch in favor of forthright honesty. I have no copies of my resume; I am not a traditional journalist, but I am a girl who writes, and has been writing for 12 long years. What do you write about? Everything! The journeys of coming to and through a neuroscience education, my personal history, what drives and moves me as an aspiring neuroscientist turned educator. My drips and drabbles on entrepreneurship, as an activist.
And after a day of polished smiles and eager faces, truths are refreshing. I head to lunch, but emboldened, I start an elevator conversation with @cupofjyo. Overeager, but hopeful that learning her story will help me shape my own. We grab Mamouns to go, and I hop back to see the trekkers of "Unconventional Paths to Journalism" right as @WajahatAli, a man whose career I have followed, tells telling anecdote after anecdote tracing his route to semi-stardom. Empassioned, invigorated, I know I will start again, unyielding: from failure, I shall create: relationships and pieces I care about. I will cultivate my homies, investing in people and in putting out the best energy I can into the universe because that dharma/karma relationship is self-evident in those people I admire most. Leave it out on the field, don't do it for the fame. Do it for yourself. Do unto others.
As I enter "Democracy & Disorder (@marcellehopkins, @dhume, @habibanosheen moderated by @azmatzahra), I think about how we introduce ourselves. How politicians craft their myth as @dhume talks about Narendra Modi and explains the Obama-ization of Indian politics. The objectivity of the reporter which comes from reframing the approach to new people's stories as @habibanosheen explained of hard stories and retraining her natural human impulses in interviews. The confidentiality and intense responsibility involved in telling other people's stories through your own voice, as @marcellehopkins explains the hardship of documenting rape in "peacetime" Sri Lanka.
I eat some Insomnia cookies as I meet more new friends and debrief on action and next steps post-convention. We go to my 9:30AM elevator intimidator @sree's social media workshop. I sit on the floor, intensely reminded of dance classes on other Saturdays, looking up to a guruji teaching with animation. We laugh, we think, we reconnect. We bring others scattered all over the globe into this stuffed up workshop classroom, overflowing with chattering minds and hearts.
I leave #saja20 so excited: to write, to make impact, to keep in touch with these new soulmates who share the writer mentality and approach to life. I leave to meet my NY area SAALTines and a new friend, Preet. We enter Potatopia: I nom on their "I Think Therefore I Yam" as I yap on about my big plans and recent past, grateful to be amidst these movers and (SAALT!) shakers whose careers I so admire and whose friendships I value highly because they are hardwon and help me grow.
We eat, we talk, we eat some more, Washington Square Park the landscape on which we map our connections and our shared and fluid histories. I head to the airport, heart-heavy but also light with exuberance. This one-day-stand was too good to be true, New York City. We may need to become something more!
Much love to SAJA for a very well planned and very well attended 20-anniversary! To many more.
peace, love, sunshine. x
ray
@reyisofsunshine
maithreyi 'ray' shankar
Archive Book can be found here: XOXO, Maithreyi ;)
If you know me, please DM me on Twitter for offer codes!
raysofsunshine.me
While professionally I have pursued and am pursuing the sweet spot of connecting this variegated skill sets, I have never pitched my sailboat of writing out my safe harbor, but I have been yearing for a venture into the moors of freelancing and professional journalism.
So, on a bleary Saturday at dawn, I took the leap, giddy and nervous. I took the bus, questioning if this was technically gate-crashing since I have never been a "real" journalist, per se. But always penned these words, always telling stories--whether on stage, in person, or on paper. "Is that enough?" I wondered, wandering onto the meandering F train.
 |
| Bleary Boston at 7:30am |
I find my nametag at registration, edit to add the smiley face that I am trying to feel. Fake it 'til you make it. YOU CAN CALL ME: Ray I say, introducing myself. Lost between worlds; even desis mistake me for who I am not. I am Maithreyi: not Maitri, not Mythili, not Maithi, not Maitreya. No.
Maithreyi: a name which has such a beautiful narrative origin--another story, another time.
I'd like to think that she'd approve of my nickname Ray which is gender-ambiguous and immediately associated with the sun: Aditya, my brother.
I enter a packed panel, choose an empty seat, tryna be quiet but can't quite help the quirky habits I keep. Notebook out, tweets in hand. Pen in left to keep thoughts from flying another anchor like the one I wear on my right hand. Right to stay in place, Left to keep moving forward, across the page.
I listen to these greats, these accomplisheds ( Where Journalism Meets Advocacy: @TheSamhita, @cupofjyo, @wwborders, & Moderated by @MythiliRao) trying to think back to how the world must have been when they started on their own paths. Where I must have been, had I been at all. Connecting myself to their stories, seeing how the past and present can take me through this uncharted, ever-promising future.
Meeting a fellow crusader (@A_Cob) trying to navigate these waters from opposite coasts: I, from the scintillating scientific shores of LA and my home bay state, she from the funky hip hop scene of Philly to the health-beat, trying to follow her own voice. We soak up the wisdom of our peers who have made it (Operation Start Up: @reckless, @ozy, @ryan_e_galloway, Moderated by @anjuliks).
More than words, I increasingly realize doing this work is about having a Nike approach (JUST DO IT.) and grit rather than over-thinking.
I enter the job fair, and instead of unfocused, unhelpful, glorified salespeople, I am faced with the people who have the power to give me what I may want, if I have the courage to ask for what I seek.
I forgo a 60-second pitch in favor of forthright honesty. I have no copies of my resume; I am not a traditional journalist, but I am a girl who writes, and has been writing for 12 long years. What do you write about? Everything! The journeys of coming to and through a neuroscience education, my personal history, what drives and moves me as an aspiring neuroscientist turned educator. My drips and drabbles on entrepreneurship, as an activist.
And after a day of polished smiles and eager faces, truths are refreshing. I head to lunch, but emboldened, I start an elevator conversation with @cupofjyo. Overeager, but hopeful that learning her story will help me shape my own. We grab Mamouns to go, and I hop back to see the trekkers of "Unconventional Paths to Journalism" right as @WajahatAli, a man whose career I have followed, tells telling anecdote after anecdote tracing his route to semi-stardom. Empassioned, invigorated, I know I will start again, unyielding: from failure, I shall create: relationships and pieces I care about. I will cultivate my homies, investing in people and in putting out the best energy I can into the universe because that dharma/karma relationship is self-evident in those people I admire most. Leave it out on the field, don't do it for the fame. Do it for yourself. Do unto others.
 |
| Wajahat Ali, in his storytelling mode |
I eat some Insomnia cookies as I meet more new friends and debrief on action and next steps post-convention. We go to my 9:30AM elevator intimidator @sree's social media workshop. I sit on the floor, intensely reminded of dance classes on other Saturdays, looking up to a guruji teaching with animation. We laugh, we think, we reconnect. We bring others scattered all over the globe into this stuffed up workshop classroom, overflowing with chattering minds and hearts.
.@Om is one of world's top tech media titans. But did you know he co-founded @sajaHQ? http://t.co/6bJCOpcPXR #saja20
— Sree Sreenivasan (@sree) October 12, 2014
As I continue on to the reception, I reflect long and hard on how these serendipitous moments shape my entire narrative. Fight or Flight, over and over, again and again. I am so glad I flew to NYC to fight for my seat at this SAJA table. Meeting @sarojini, @parmarhema, Sana Uddin, and Brown Girl Magazine's @tsakhuja13 & @foprah showed me where I can grow and helped me realize how far I have come since starting my xanga post-summer 2003.I leave #saja20 so excited: to write, to make impact, to keep in touch with these new soulmates who share the writer mentality and approach to life. I leave to meet my NY area SAALTines and a new friend, Preet. We enter Potatopia: I nom on their "I Think Therefore I Yam" as I yap on about my big plans and recent past, grateful to be amidst these movers and (SAALT!) shakers whose careers I so admire and whose friendships I value highly because they are hardwon and help me grow.
 |
| Amit Jani, Maithreyi Shankar, Preet Rajdeo, Marvin Matthew @ Potatopia |
We eat, we talk, we eat some more, Washington Square Park the landscape on which we map our connections and our shared and fluid histories. I head to the airport, heart-heavy but also light with exuberance. This one-day-stand was too good to be true, New York City. We may need to become something more!
Much love to SAJA for a very well planned and very well attended 20-anniversary! To many more.
peace, love, sunshine. x
ray
@reyisofsunshine
maithreyi 'ray' shankar
Archive Book can be found here: XOXO, Maithreyi ;)
If you know me, please DM me on Twitter for offer codes!
raysofsunshine.me
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