Watusi- “It is what it is”

A trip to Hilton Head for my family includes the typical summer vacation excursions: lollygagging at the beach, slaving over a sand castle that stands no chance against the power family next door, and grabbing some watusi. 

As we walk up to the frozen yogurt shop, my Grammy C screams, “Watusi! It is what it is. I like that.” Her deeply southern and enthused accent surely turns some heads as I look the other way, pretending to ponder over the very limited selection of frozen yogurt flavors.

Watusi does not actually mean “It is what it is.” Surprise! I recently googled the word, and found that watusi is actually the Tutsi people as a whole. Now that sentence really brought down the mood of this post; but don’t worry, for now, let’s just pretend that it means the simple phrase, “It is what it is.”

    High School

The days leading up to my first day of high school were filled with confusion. Am I excited or am I about to projectile vomit? Do I wear a lacy dress on the first day? Or does that show that I put in too much effort? Do I wear a ratty t shirt to show that I am someone who cannot be messed with? All of these thoughts came from my preconceived idea of what high school would be. This would be the time where I would have a boyfriend. This would be the time that I would live the modern life of Marcia Brady. These are the days I had been perfecting in my mind as I watched the “big girls” from afar at Thanksgiving dinner.

  Is this it?

As a Junior in high school, I have experienced 2.5 years of what I would call a pretty enjoyable high school experience. I’ve found my voice writing for the school newspaper, I’ve met some pretty cool people, and I’ve had great conversations. Oh, and I’ve learned too. A lot. But, yes there is a but, I find myself constantly waiting for something extraordinary. While the school dances are fun, my thoughts become preoccupied with my lack of romance and the constant paranoia that my sticky bra is about to hit the floor. Each school day seems like a time trap; getting through one hour just to drag through the next.

Watusi

I’ve found that this is what it is. The remaining year and a half of high school will be spent pressed up against my fellow peers at basketball games, stressing for tests that I won’t possibly remember when I finally find out what I want to do with my life, and attempting to figure out the meaning behind all of it. The most memorable times I’ve had have come from just living through the obscureness of it all. Life is weird; that’s the best part about it. No matter what chapter of my life that I enter, I know that I will never meet the expectations I have prior. And that’s okay. That’s what makes life so wonderful. The complexity of it all can be what make it seem dull. It’s not that the reality of life is just hopeless hours ticking away; we have the choice to forget our expectations and just let life be what it is. Simple as that.

As my four short years of high school continue, I know that I know nothing. I know that a^2 + b^2 = c^2. I know that Abraham Lincoln was not an abolitionist, contrary to my prior belief. What I don’t know is where my friends and I will decide to go on a Saturday night as we wonder aimlessly throughout the town that we have become so familiar with, or the great conversations I’ll have with people on my trampoline at four am. That is what it is.

We will never know what it will be or what it was; but we are lucky enough to know that it is what it is. That’s a pretty great way to live.

The famous watusi enthusiast. 79 years old and still amazed by the view of our hometown, Pittsburgh. If you ask her, this view doesn’t compare to any site that I saw on my trip to Europe. Why? Because it’s our city. We might as well take pride in what it is.