I am a self taught person in many ways. I taught myself guitar, have been playing for almost 20 years, have recorded a handful of albums as a means of teaching myself more. Taught myself how to use the airbrush. Just bought one and made my way through a number of paintings, teaching myself the technique and the tool at once. There are other examples. There are many.

In some areas I am not self-taught. I am not self-taught in the areas that require a teacher. Tae Kwon Do is one. Photography and Cinematography are others. (I know that in this media saturated and -centric society even the most passive ingestor of media becomes more and more savvy in terminology and image theory, yet there really is a lot to learn under the tutelage of an experienced cameraman/director/actor so allow me to justify my years in school, please!) Languages are another.

While I still push the envelope, push myself, and do a lot of work on my own in these areas, I understand it is essential to rely on teachers. And so I find a teacher I can truly respect and admire, and I give myself to them and to the work. In these situations, humility is required. My Sabumnim (teachers in the dojang for TKD) were both younger than me. One was a young lady who began training at nine years old, and while I was in my late 20s when I began training, she was only 16. She was a multiple degree blackbelt, and I respected her greatly. At NYU, studying film, not so much humility is required. Because there, all the students feel they are the cream of the crop, told they are the cream of the crop, and made to feel as if they are about to graduate into the glitzy, welcoming arms of the elite crowd (which is where quite a few of them came from). In a language course, you will certainly meet your humility or you will not progress.

In some areas I am not self-taught, but have lived thinking I am. Attitudes on various things such as race and gender have come to me in bits and pieces, seeping in disguised and disfigured, allowed to pass into my own knowledge base and self-image by naïveté, inattention, or obfuscation. Given to me by the media, my family, and Schools. I have always jealously and carefully guarded the inlets, but a ceaseless bombardment of waste can account for a million polluted streams.

Self-education is a powerful thing. It is far more powerful than School. The first is another word for Self Actualization (or "love"), and the second is an idea that began with the intent to prime humans for a factory existence. School still is the game teaching itself to play, and Self-education is what Nietschze, Socrates, and Jesus all preached, in their own ways. School is but a course of goals and rewards, of exercises and tests, of a set curriculum. Self-education is a movement of one. Self-education inherently includes desire and drive. School may or may not. Self-education involves questioning each piece of information, and testing it in the context of one's own use. It involves truly learning. Self-education offers no tassels, no robes, no framed paper, no aura of intelligence. A school is only a physical space, someone who has practiced something longer than you (one hopes), and a potential for the process of guided self-education. And since the entire event is encapsulated by grades and forced calenders and curricula and social networking, the essence of what you are there for can be lost behind the superficial elements of the process. Self-education, by its nature, is bare and energized. Minimal gear and maximum use of alloted time.

As I am the sort of person that has, from time to time, attracted a student or an apprentice in various areas, I have done my best to not only teach the technique and the lessons I have learned, I also try to provide maps to self-teaching. I try to instill the confidence and roadsigns needed to become a self-teacher. Because it is this wisdom and humility (in addition to the lessons, of course) that truly helps. Not having an idol. ...Growing the rice, and not fetishizing the bowl, you might say.

I remember once, after an elective English class I had in my first college (a community college) in Great Novels or something, I expressed to my prof (a dual PhD, a very humble and smart man) my admiration at how he could find themes and devices and analogies in these classic and famous stories, and my frustration at how I continued to read at a different level. I wanted, too, to see through and into them. It seemed so easy to him, to distill the meaning; to find the metaphors; to read the work as it seemed it must be read. And rather than bask too long in adoring light from the most vocal and energetic student in the class, he chose to shoot down the image of him as Great-Wise-Thinker at once, and tell me that it was easy once you learned to see these structures in a story. It was only a matter of time for me. And of course, he did as he should have. Because that is the entire purpose of classes like that (and the reason you'd bother taking Eng electives): to teach you to become a reader and analyzer of Great Books. And he was right. Now, years later, I do see right through. And am a much better writer for it. And I still do admire this man greatly, as you can tell. So my prof didn't have to lose that by being honest and humble.

As I investigate my ancestry, Mexico, my family, indigenous rights, farmer's plights, the history of the USA, the behind-the-scenes of today, and the deep-reaching emotions, effects and complex nets of my own internalized colonization—all related—I keep learning. And I come across other shapes, hidden themes, and metaphors in the Great Story of my own perception and Doings.

As each idea reveals its connection to the next, I read more and more. I keep understanding more of those things working within me, and which are important in my life. I find insights into the feminist movement, parallels. And the Black/African-American experience. Much of this I watch from afar, because I've got my own stuff to deal with right now. And so much of my own "stuff" is what can affect others in my own life, so it's best for me to keep working on that. The important and unique part here is that I find people talking about these things, I find people like me, and people not just like me who are teaching themselves, finding themselves, and whether intentionally or not, teaching others. This is good. And I feel many people are doing these kind of things online. Learning, having their eyes opened. Running with that. Self-teaching. Being open.

I come here, to The Unapologetic Mexican, and I write. I know where my mind rests, here. I know my purpose. I know my history, or I know my intention regarding my history. I remember to keep an eye out for my bias, I remember to be gentle in my approach to ignorance. I remember to search for humility in my newfound empowerment.

It could be easy to get up from the computer and move into the three-dimensional world and act as if you are stepping over a line. I am one who subscribes to the notion that some type of persona is best online if only to highlight the fact that you can never be completely genuine or your "true self" when operating through an electronic liaison. (A point, granted, that some argue me on.) But I think we are learning here, and carrying it into our lives. I do not think we leave it behind, like a graded quiz destined for a hallway trash can.

I read the news blogs for kicks. I read them for entertainment. And on my blogroll are many blogs that I feel are talking about more important things. I guess we all have our definition of "important." Recently, I was unexpectedly linked on a big, political blog, and it drove my hits through the roof for two days. Made my stats look like the twin towers. You know what I did? I wrote no entries for two days! Let the passersby by. Recently I read of a few big sites asking for submissions to help them build their PoC blogrolls. You know what I did? Nothing. I'm not here to be a fascination or an equal opportunity piece of blog-candy for anyone. You want to read? Read. You want to link? Link. You'll be on to something snazzy next. And I know when the GOP is done criminalizing my people for the moment, they'll drag some other minority into the spotlight, and Mexicans will be kicked to the curb of Yesterday's Keg-side Chants in the USA's Eternal Colonization Party. I'm not taking part in your little momentary fiesta, and I won't be your monkey piñata, to paraphrase Jon Stewart. I'm on a mission here. And those who are meant to find me, find me. Those I am meant to find, I find.

It makes me happy to know that I am investigating things important to me here. That there is more to Internet life than distraction, recycled political pundits pontificating purposeless paradigm, and bizarre horse photos. That I am learning things applicable to me here. Things I don't always expect. That I am getting clearer on my views. That I can carry them into the rest of my life, when I am not "The Unapologetic Mexican," but just me. I want to keep it together, this newfound learning, this newfound empathy, this newfound strength. This newfound school. Of thought.