I noticed that people do not appreciate honesty.

The thought came to me subtly at first, then struck me clearly.

An expression of honesty is often followed by emotional baggage in the form of opinions, accusations, and ultimatums.

For example, you come home after a long day at work or school. Your only motivation throughout the day that keeps you from a complete crash is the thought that upon arriving home, last night’s leftovers are waiting for you in the fridge. You’ve fantasized all day about how good it is going to feel to relax and eat your favorite food that you intentionally saved for this moment the night before.

When you check the fridge, you see that your food is missing. The trash can betrays the truth you want to deny. Somebody ate the food you set aside for yourself.

You yell to your family, “who ate my food!?” until your little sister says, “I did. I’m sorry.”

I’m sure a similar situation has happened to just about everyone. Think about what your response to your hypothetical little sister would be at that moment. Anger? Frustration? Would you groan and whine about how that was your food, you deserved that food, and your sister is a terribly inconsiderate person who can only think of herself? Would you complain and guilt your family by saying something like, “Now what am I supposed to eat?”

I would wager that most of us would react in some variation of the above. Very few of us would appreciate our little sister’s honesty and say, “Thank you for telling me. It’s okay. I will find something else to eat.”

Though our negative responses to honesty may not be completely groundless or necessarily wrong, being able to appreciate honesty before addressing feelings, takes real guts.

The example I give is simple and has incredibly low stakes compared to other circumstances, but you can apply the same logic to just about anything. Relationships. Friendships. Parent-child or teacher-student dynamics.

Even if we are fully justified in our feelings and responses, we cannot ignore the courage, vulnerability, integrity, humility, and truth that flows out of an honest word.

Our first reaction to honesty should always be to listen first, thankfully acknowledge the truth, seek clarification, and then respond. 

Our responses must come out of the most complete picture of information possible. This is not only crucial for avoiding unnecessary conflict, but it is perhaps more important for us to develop a habit of listening. If our lives depend on and consist of the relationships we build with others, to be careless with the way we listen and respond shows poor judgment and narrow interpersonal awareness.

I suppose our immediate responses are rooted in selfishness. Selfishness breeds conflict and blocks us from recognizing the emotions or perspective of the other. It strips away our empathy.  

Empathy is a craft. It is a good faith attempt to see things from another’s point-of-view, a conscious decision we must attempt in any given situation.

Rushed and negative responses to honesty compromise our ability to produce empathy.

Silence the stubborn desire to amplify fleeting feelings. In the face of honesty, choose empathy. Choose to listen.

We all have moments that mark us. Moments that define who we are and shape us in significant ways. 

My vocal “journey” was born out of such a moment. I’ve always loved words and have been fascinated with the ways our voices can fill a space, convey a message, and express emotion. Recently, I’ve been exploring voice as an extension of identity.

I discovered the true power in voice and spoken word in a moment where words could never be enough.

It was the summer of 2017. I was in Moldova visiting grandparents. Four years earlier in 2013, when I last visited Moldova, I made friends with some of the neighborhood kids.

One girl in particular, Vika, became a very good friend of mine. However, we were never able to maintain contact with each other and the connection was eventually lost by the time I visited four years later.

Even so, when Vika heard I was in Moldova she came to visit and say hello. 

I was inside the house when my grandfather called out to me saying we had visitors. I quickly put on some shoes and rushed out to meet Vika. To my surprise, Vika was not alone. She had a stroller with her and in it a baby who was about three months old.

The problem was not that she had a child, but it was the conditions in which she had a child. At the time, I was 18. She was 16. A man left her pregnant, then abandoned her with child. 

As Vika updated me on her life, I noticed her black teeth. In contrast, I had recently had my braces removed and was very proud of the beautiful teeth I had as a result. But in that moment, I couldn’t even smile. I found myself not even being able to make conversation. It felt like we were from two different worlds. I wanted to hide the very clothes I was wearing. Not out of pity, but out of humility and desire to shield her.

Although her spirits were up, I saw the depth of sadness, pain, and exhaustion in her eyes. I even saw shame. I saw something I had never seen before in a woman so young, in a child.

Just years before we were both dreaming about our future homes, husbands, kids, careers, and travels. Life’s unpredictable nature suddenly revealed itself to me.  

I think about that moment often. 

I think about how I opened my mouth, but words evaded me.

It helped me realize how sometimes, voice is an emotion felt, an understanding. But it also showed me the power words have. 

I learned to use my words carefully and only with intentions to edify and uplift. 

In that moment with Vika, I chose to encourage her to the best of my ability. I praised the beautiful life she created and welcomed her with open arms. Together, we reminisced about the nights we spent together talking and becoming friends. 

I used my words to create a safe haven for her with me. 

Today, I received a rejection letter.

I had been preparing to apply to this particular program since freshman year. The application took me over 3 months to complete. I put my absolute best foot forward and worked tirelessly to produce the highest caliber of work. In other words, I gave nothing less than excellence. 

My first thought after reading the letter was, “It’s a good thing I don’t believe in coincidences.” Because if I did, I would be incredibly disheartened. 

They say a bond between a father and his daughter is unbreakable, and I completely agree. My life is a testimony of this. I cannot think of a single person who contributed so richly to who I am personally and professionally other than my father, Vyacheslav Perjar.

“What if these obstacles are just part of the equation?” My father would always ask me this each time I presented a new difficulty, failure, or problem to him. 

My father has always had incredible problem-solving skills. To this day, I cannot think of a problem that I believe he could not solve. He taught me that there is always a solution to every problem and that no problem is without victories. 

My father taught me to look at failures and difficulties as opportunities. He encouraged me to judge every situation through a neutral lens and showed me how to find the truth in any circumstance. Giving up and opting out no longer became options for me. With my father’s guidance, I emerged with victory from every difficulty. Every hardship was a lesson learned and wisdom gained. 

So, my dad’s first reaction to news of my rejection to the program was joy. 

He reminded me that life does not often supply clear-cut answers. The fact that I received such a clear “no” was good news. For me, it means that God is protecting me from something or maybe preparing to open new doors for me. As a born-again Christian, I believe the Word of God which says, “I will go before you and make the crooked places straight; I will break in pieces the gates of bronze and cut the bars of iron” (Isaiah 45:2). 

Suddenly, that “no” became a building block I could step on to reach new heights. 

Reflecting back on my life, I can clearly identify how every rejection has led to a bigger project, better job, or surprising opportunity. Although disappointments are inevitable, obstacles reveal what we’re made of. I know my diligence will sustain success, so I look to the future with hope and confidence.

Today, I’m thankful for parents who encourage me. I’m thankful for silver-linings and small beams of hope. I’m even thankful for closed doors that allow me to see otherwise hidden opportunities.    

What if the obstacles you face are simply part of the equation that makes up your life? A way to clear your path or a vehicle to take you to your final destination… 

The best is yet to come. 

Recently, I saw a few of my Instagram friends post an article on their stories called “How to Celebrate the 4th of July When America Is a Constant Disappointment.” 

Before I comment on this, I should lead with a story that will allow you to understand the lens through which I view the United States of America—a lens that not many have the privilege to look through. I should also say that I am not a politician… I am not even someone with weight to my name. I am simply the daughter of two immigrant parents who has seen firsthand the damages of hate, imbalance, and poverty through systems such as socialism, communism, and a lack of basic freedoms. 

My parents were both born and raised in the Republic of Moldova and lived under the communist regime of the former Soviet Union for most of their lives there. 

From a very young age, my dad developed an infatuation with the United States and all it stood for. He watched every American movie and marveled at the fact that many had their own house… with a car… and a garage… and a job. Something, at least, to call their own. He inhaled all the American classic novels and listened to all the music. Later, when he married my mother, as they drifted into sleep, he would say, “Imagine we make it to America and have kids who speak a different language. Imagine owning a car or a house. Imagine we both have jobs. Imagine an abundance of food…” My mom would shush him as every hair raised on her skin. Just the thought of such a thing was incredibly terrifying, yet pleasantly overwhelming.  

On television, the Soviets would air anti-American propaganda, showing everyone under the Communist regime how terrible America was during its peak of black injustice and the civil rights movement. My dad distinctly remembers watching riots and protests led by African Americans. As the Soviet Russians narrated the scenes he was watching, calling America dangerous, unruly, and filled with inequalities, my dad saw something completely different. He read between the lines as he watched riots led by individuals taking a stand against the unacceptable injustice African Americans were facing. Even in the desperate situation they found themselves in, most individuals protesting still wore blue jeans and sneakers— something both my parents could only dream of having. He saw that they all wore sneakers. Yet another privilege that did not exist in Moldova at the time. Some even drove cars or had their own homes, but most importantly, they had the right and ability to protest against their government to bring change in circumstances and laws they were unhappy with. 

Life is all about perspective. A situation may look exceedingly different from just two different viewpoints.

Either way, I do not intend to downplay the African American experience, nor exaggerate the difficulties in my parents’ lives. I simply wish to reveal the beauty of America amidst the chaos; the change that was produced as a direct result of the struggle of the marginalized.

So, when I hear people make statements like “America is a Constant Disappointment,” I can’t help but ask the question “how?” Maybe because America is a country where people can openly trash their homeland, those in power, and even their friends with no consequences. Maybe because it’s a country where it’s possible to be the child of parents who have nothing yet still have the possibility to become the greatest in whatever or whomever you decide to be. Or maybe because America is a place where those unhappy with their situation can petition, protest, and rally to be heard; becoming catalysts for transformation in any circumstance.

You see, disappointment and America cannot be synonymous. I can say this with certainty because the heart of the United States is found in the people—in you. In those who stand up for what they believe in. Those who do not rest until they bring justice to the marginalized. Even historical precedent shows us what America is truly made of. Rescuing the weak; sending food and medical care to foreign countries needing it during crises like WWII; and investing in nonprofit, missionary work like no other country does are just a few examples that showcase the greatness of the United States. 

Perhaps the greatest instances in which America has shown its true heart lie within its difficulties and injustices like racial discrimination, the Trail of Tears, the Chinese Exclusion Acts, Japanese internment camps, the use of atomic bombs, the Civil war, the Jim Crow era, the wars in Vietnam and Iraq… the list goes on. These events are tragic, horrible mistakes, but the resilience of America in its relentless pursuit to continually improve and include all in its prosperity is what perpetually sets America apart. Even now, as this nation passes through times where there are difficult decisions to be made, I am confident that the United States will remain noble and continually establish justice for all. 

So, a final thought I would like to leave you with as you continue navigating through life is to always proceed in any situation by being aware of your surroundings. Know the facts and do your research. Don’t believe what the media says—look at everything from above. After, you will be better equipped to draw a more complete conclusion. My parents always taught me to pray for and bless those in power. Dr. King himself proved that this is the most effective and virtuous way to make a difference. So, love others and be kind. Realize that if no human is perfect, it is therefore impossible for the world or a nation to be perfect. Remember, you—the American citizen— are the rhythm to which America’s heart beats. You as an American citizen have endless potential and are the key ingredient in establishing justice for all with dignity and integrity.