People
A few days ago, I was sitting in a pizza restaurant in Shirlington with the rest of the Convergence staff, on my last day as the media strategy intern for the summer. My mind was all over the place, full of really inarticulate reflections of my summer. I’m usually feeling emotional about something, and this time that was truer than ever. I was floating in and out of my head, sometimes participating in the conversation, but mostly just looking around and observing and listening to the people who had gone from my acquaintances to my bosses and colleagues to my mentors and friends. By the end of our lunch, I was holding back tears.
It’s taken me over a month to figure out how to write this post. There is so much that is going through my head, and was definitely going through my head that afternoon. I’m very grateful that I’ve met and become a part of the Convergence community. It’s helped to re-open a part of me that has laid dormant for a very, very long time.
From the time I was young up until the time I reached ninth grade, I was passionately involved in growing and becoming a musician and writer. I loved music, I listened to it constantly, and I began to sing and play piano, and act and perform in choirs and shows. What I was having trouble with was finding a place where I could explore the creative process in a way that allowed me to see myself non-judgmentally. I couldn’t seem to connect with myself or others because I was struggling to figure out what I wanted out of music. Alongside my frustrations artistically, by the time I reached high school, the rest of my life took over in a really arduous way. I was struggling very much to deal with confusions from a past full of grey areas, and it led me to a very difficult four years full of more confusion, loss, anger, desperation, and hopelessness. Music fell by the wayside; I subconsciously put aside my dreams of being a practicing musician, and began to focus on how I was going to begin college and secure a career for myself.
Fast-forward to the midst of my sophomore year, and I’d begun to slowly get involved with the Convergence community. I came to a few shows, met a few people, and was becoming increasingly intrigued by everything that goes on here. In May, I decided to take on a summer internship, in which I would be able to work on the website and gain journalism-related experience with blogging, whilst simultaneously be surrounded by artists and musicians working with communities, projects, and classes at Convergence. This internship experience is when I really begun to get involved with the community, and really began to connect with people. It was through this experience that I felt as though an inner void was being filled – that creative void. Through hearing and meeting musicians involved with the wonderful Lab All Ages program, I began to make real friends and connections and slowly feel confident about exploring the possibility of being a musician again. And, in the midst of that, I got to interact with the various artists working on other exciting projects at Convergence. It occurred to me during this summer that this was a place in which artists and musicians and creative individuals came to in order to discover themselves and receive the support and guidance necessary to manifest their dreams. Many of the people I’d met told me about their journeys as artists and how Convergence had supported them. I was realizing just how unique and subjectively accessible of a place this really was.
Before I joined Convergence, I wasn’t even familiar with the DIY (do-it-yourself) and DIT (do-it-together) ethics. I wasn’t aware that a community existed in which artists came together to support each others’ projects, promote each others’ shows, and collaborate to make really awesome things happen. I volunteered at this year’s FEST TOO, and was just in awe of the creative spirit that people were sharing together to make it happen. I think what’s really special about Convergence is not only the accessibility it provides for anyone wanting to get involved, but the empathy in which the people here seem to possess. I was at Convergence an average of three days a week, and was met with such a personable and empathetic atmosphere. The artistic process for any individual is not an easy one. The people and programs at a place like Convergence allow for that exploration to happen, for doubt to be accepted, and for new ideas to grow and develop into real-life manifestations of personal expression at its most vulnerable. Literally anyone could walk into Convergence and find something that they could get involved in, and could meet people who share one similar goal: manifesting an environment in which creativity is seen as vital to human expression and survival, and in which our vulnerable human characteristic is not seen as weakness, but as opportunity for connection and originality. It’s a wonderful thing that happens here.
The staff at Convergence have become my mentors, and have been so unbelievably patient with me as I navigated through my internship experience. I’ve gained invaluable experience that will help lead me to the career in journalism and art that I want. I’ve made such wonderful friends in the Lab All Ages program and have connected with so many peers. I now have access to an infinite amount of shows and music events to suit my dire, innate need to be musically involved. I feel comfortable enough to start expressing myself. There is a part of me that I thought I could never tap into again. I’m so thankful for everything that I’ve learned here and everyone that I’ve met. I never in a million years imagined I would find a place so unique that allowed me to be and discover my full self, whilst giving me the opportunity to help sustain a local, creative community that is so important to so many.
I’m beginning my third year of college at a different university than where I spent my first two, and it feels both comforting and exciting to me that Convergence will remain a constant through that transition. I can’t wait to attend some shows next week. I can’t wait to see some friends tonight at an open mic. I can’t believe I’m actually mustering up the courage to perform at it. I can’t wait to hear more about some of the new exhibits that will be happening in the gallery this fall. I can’t wait to get more involved. I can’t wait to keep making more connections. I can’t wait to see Convergence grow and expand.
Last October, my friend Shaun brought me to an LAA open mic. I’m eternally grateful to him and to that day, for it seems as though I’ve finally found a creative home. I can only hope that more and more people get to share the experience that I have begun to enjoy. There’s really nothing else like it.
Avni Kacker