Get comfortable with being uncomfortable | Arifa Syeda | TEDxYouth@AnnArbor

Most people avoid being uncomfortable. As her travels have forced her to face a variety of situations, Arifa shares her view on what it means to become comfortable with being uncomfortable.

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at http://ted.com/tedx

Last year I packed up
all of my belongings, and I moved.

I picked a new school,
a new group of friends, a new home.

I was the new kid.

In fact, this was my twelfth time
being the new kid.

That's four continents, eight schools,

and fourteen houses in my seventeen years.

I'm going to tell you my story.

Consider it what you want,
a personal narrative,

a series of lessons, you can choose.

But, don't worry,

you don't have to move 12 times
to know what I'm talking about.

Feeling different, unaccepted,
or like you just don't fit in

is something we've all experienced
at one point or another.

The following poem is titled:
Get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

I get uncomfortable often.

For example, I don't know
how to talk to boys,

I can never hit the tennis ball
with my tennis racket,

and I stutter when I'm talking
in front of a large crowd.

According to every Google search
I've done that consists of the keywords

"stop" and "being" and "awkward,"

the online wizards have suggested
that I insert myself

in different circumstances,
different settings, different places.

So, I did just that. I moved a lot.

From Southend-on-Sea to Karachi
to London to Swansea to Cayman Island

back to Swansea to Roosevelt Island
to Little Rock to Roscommon to Grayling

to Saginaw to Ann Arbor, I moved a lot.

I don't think that I ever had one home,
or one place, or one setting,

but, I did have one family.

I did have one mother, one father,
one twin brother,

one older brother, and one me.

There was only one me,
one Arifa Eftekhar Syeda.

One me, living through
like seven different lives.

Being the new kid can be
the best and worse situation.

You're pushed into the deep end
of society's pool

with the daunting stress
of the unknown anchoring you down,

and only your undeveloped social skills
keeping you from drowning.

With every move, everything changed.

I went from driving on the left side
to driving on the right.

From semesters to trimesters.

From city to country to city again.

But with everything constantly
changing around me,

the things that stayed the same
are what truly define me.

Traveling helped me figure out who I am.

I heard my very first poem
when I lived in England.

The sky wasn't always blue,
the grass wasn't always green.

But as a Pakistani,

my skin color was always brown,

always darker then my friends' at least.

I stuck out like a stain
on my white couch,

I felt extremely uncomfortable.

I heard my second poem
when I lived in Pakistan

I was engulfed in beautiful culture,
overwhelming sites and scenes,

but I could never understand
what my cousins were saying.

They spoke so fast
and in a language unknown,

and chuckled when I couldn't comprehend.

I felt incredibly uncomfortable.

I heard my third poem
when I lived in the Caribbean.

It was as beautiful
as you'd expect it to be.

It felt as if I was on vacation
every single day.

I built sand castles,
but not many friendships.

My mermaid adventure stories
were always a one-person tale.

I was alone often,
and I felt really uncomfortable.

Now you should know,
I used to be really shy,

always had her hair on her face,
didn't speak unless spoken to.

That kind of girl.

But I soon realized
that if I didn't make a conscious effort

to "put myself out there"

as my elementary school
counselor would say,

I wouldn't be able to adapt
to my new home.

I wouldn't be able to make new friends.

I wouldn't be able to get involved.

I wouldn't be able to be comfortable.

This socially awkward girl
had to learn some social skills.

It was a survival tool.

I wrote my first poem
when I lived in New York.

Big city, American life,
it was a big change for me.

Shopping carts instead of trolleys,
band-aids instead of plasters.

The biggest change
wasn't the pennies instead of pence,

but the way people treated me.

I was bullied for the way
I said "strawberries."

I wrote my second poem
when I lived in Arkansas.

The heat was sweltering,
so hot it almost felt unwelcoming.

I thought the Southern hospitality
would prevail, but, apparently,

it didn't apply to people like me.

People like me
with hijabs on our heads

instead of scarves around our necks.

People like me who go to mosque on Friday
instead of church on Sunday.

People like me who are hatefully accused
of terrorist attacks that we didn't do.

I felt uncomfortable!

Traveling is all about
uncomfortable situations.

There are going to be awkward encounters,

and there are going to be
cringeworthy conversations.

Learning how to overcome them
is a durable benefit.

With every move,

I gained a floaty of experience
to keep my head above the water.

I was given the opportunity
to discover new things

which helped me discover myself.

I didn't know what ranch was
until I moved to Michigan

and now I can't eat pizza without it.

Arkansas introduced me
to jump rope culture

where I was captain
the of second grade Double Dutch Team.

New York showed me Broadway,

which unearthed my love
for musical theater.

All valuable lessons
I probably would have missed

had I stayed in one place.

I performed my first poem
when I lived here.

I lived in the moment.
And I felt comfortable.

I mean, no, I'm kind of uncomfortable
right now, but I'm comfortable

with being uncomfortable.

Thank you.