Meet Trailblazer Marie Medina

Today we’d like to introduce you to Marie Medina.

Thanks for sharing your story with us Marie. So, let’s start at the beginning and we can move on from there.
I am a fourth-generation Mexican-American from rural Colorado. Like, capital R-U-R-A-L. I graduated with 35 people, y’all. Which means the current “yee-haw” moment happening in pop-culture really tickles me. I grew up knowing everyone in my small community and everyone knew me. “Oh, you’re so-and-so’s sister/daughter/third cousin twice removed…” It all really set me up for the busy-body lifestyle I live now. I’ve always loved connecting with people and being involved in my community.

I moved to Denver for school when I really *should* have went to college in Colorado Springs, but I had a very floppy-haired boyfriend in Boulder at the time, so alas, here I am. I went to school for psychology and gender studies originally thinking I wanted to become a counselor. After I graduated, I made a sharp left turn and crashed into my first big adult failure, something I say with pride. I was accepted into this really cutting edge teaching residency program. Highly competitive. Out of 300 or so applicants, 75 were accepted and I was one of them. This is me, tooting my own horn, which we all should when the opportunity is ripe!

After six months in the program, I realized the opportunity, although incredible, was not for me. I had plowed through my college education, not taking a semester off and then dived headlong into a master’s program. A recipe for burnout. My personality had dulled. I was anxious, lethargic and would cry at ASPCA commercials way more easily than months prior. My intuition was telling my 23-year-old body to SLOW THE EFF DOWN. But, I had no idea what that looked like or how to ask for help, so I quit the program. The model I had for adulthood was to work hard, be humble and keep going. Which is all well and good, but not exactly failure-proof. Taking a step back shook my foundation, but through the process of not planning out my future in detail, I began to enjoy myself and who I was becoming. And at this current moment, I’m right back to where 23 years old me was, only *slightly* wiser.

Over the past six years, I’ve cut my teeth in nonprofit and political work, fundraising for organizations and political campaigns that are close to my heart. When I failed at being a teacher, activism really saved me. I found like-minded people organizing for gender & racial equity, sex positivity, free press, immigrant rights, LGBTQ rights, workers’ rights and reproductive justice, to name a few. These folks were artists, professionals, community members, youth, elders, the whole gamut. I met some of my very best friends by showing up and holding physical space for the issues we were passionate about. That passion turned into a career. Being able to make money from the thing I was already doing for free was a huge boost, but it came at a price.

All that to say, I burnt out. Again. And I probably will, again, at some point in the future. The trick with burn out is to listen to it. Are you happy here? Are you your best self here? Do you have the freedom, the ability, the stability to leave? What’s the worst that could happen if you leap into the unknown?

Cut to today, where I am still very much wading through the unknown, but with the confidence that I’m in the right place. I started a monthly newsletter, Saturn Return, all about navigating this phase of life, but really it’s for anyone navigating change. In astrology, Saturn Return occurs every 28-30 years and is a cosmic shake-up as Saturn returns to roughly the same place it was in when you were born. A time of questioning where you’re going, who with, and why. As an aspiring bargain-bin version of Brené Brown, I decided to start my newsletter rooted in all of the questions, ideas, and learnings that have been popping up for me as I hug the curves of my orbit.

I’m in this incredible (and scary) exploratory phase of self and I credit 100% of the opportunities that have come my way to a supportive community. When I was vulnerable, they showed up. I created a space where I can be honest and experiment, and that’s all I can really ask for.

Overall, has it been relatively smooth? If not, what were some of the struggles along the way?
Personally, I think having an “easy” time should never be anyone’s goal. Bumps, failed plans, side roads, those all create the space to dive deeper into why the f&#k we’re here in the first place. A big catalyst to where I am now is failure and grief. I landed my first, big, professional, adult non-profit job and worked with an amazing activist and leader, Jason Mckain. He took a chance on me because he saw potential and was such an inspiring leader to work with. In 2015 we experienced some truly horrific flooding here in Northern Colorado. While out fishing solo in Boulder Creek, Jason was taken from us. I’ll never forget coming to work and hearing the news. The air was sucked out of the room. No one was a bigger champion for good than Jason, and no one had a more wicked sense of humor. Just that winter prior, he had come up with a hair-brained fundraiser to deliver coal to the Koch Brothers for Christmas. He went so far as to research how to commandeer a helicopter so he could literally land at their doorsteps. There was no one like him. He, in a word, was boundless.

When I moved on to another job opportunity, I was faced with loss again. Less than a year on the job, I lost my grandfather to illness and my sister-in-law in a car accident in the same week. I don’t share my experiences with a loss to garner pity, but rather to illustrate that life will kick you in the ass and it also has the power to illuminate what really matters. This year, I took the time to process the grief that had come like waves into my life. I had powered through for so long, not assessing the toll it had taken on my heart and my body. I also processed the ways in which grief scared me into not reaching to the edges of my potential.

There are so many circumstances that prevent us from taking risks. Some of those are very real for many people. But a lot of us have less to lose that we think we do. In the August issue of my newsletter, the topic I covered was M-O-N-E-Y, a subject that so many folks tip-toe around but something that has incredible power over how we live. My advice to people, especially young people, is that money is powerful, money is freedom, but it does not define you.

The more we talk about money, are transparent about money with our friends and colleagues, the less we are ashamed of what we don’t have and the more we can ask for what is owed. This is especially important for Women of Color. Latinas are still on the bottom rung of the ladder, making $.54 to every White man’s dollar. In the words of Randy Jackson, “That’s gonna be a no from me, dawg.”

Grief is the feeling that grounds me. It is my daily reminder that we are only here for a brief moment, but we can have a long-lasting impact. We should experience joy! We should take risks! We should leave the space we found a little better for the person after us, even if they never know it was because of you. I hate to quote a White man in the year of Our Goddess 2019, but I recently read a quote by Harry Truman that really resonated with me: “It is amazing what you can accomplish if you do not care who gets the credit.”

Give credit where credit is due, but when it comes to community work, to raising consciousness, don’t get caught up with who is getting the praise on the million+ social media platforms, who’s getting awards, or cutting deals. Stay in your lane and do the work that lights your soul on fire. Once it’s lit, light the next torch.

Please tell us about Saturn Return – what should we know?
My work is all over the place right now, just as it should be. I’m consulting for a couple of nonprofits on fundraising and event strategies. But I also walk dogs and nanny because your girl’s got bills to pay. There are no small jobs, only small people. I have four paying gigs right now and thee passion projects. I fill up time like nobody’ business. My big feat this year was launching Saturn Return. I’ve always loved writing, personally and professionally, but I was waiting for some magic fairy to tap me on the head and call me a writer. Turns out, I’m the fairy. I want to keep my creative juices flowing, regardless if it pays me cash money. I’m working on a podcast project with a close friend who’s also from the nonprofit/policy world. We plan to launch in 2020 and cover topics like working and dating as a POC in a predominantly White atmosphere. I also love collaborating with my good friend Maria Ignacia Miranda Santis, an activist and photographer. We started calling ourselves Marie & Maria Crafts after taking a trip to a grassroots fundraising conference together in Atlanta. The entire trip we were bursting with creative ideas. Activism can easily take over your life and it’s important to nourish yourself with art and joy, so that’s what we do for each other. The ideas are rooted in fun, not in making money or earning praise.

I’m excited to take more risks this year. In an “influencer” age where folks think you need a high social media following or a certain level of sheen and shine to your work to be valid, I try to do my own thing. I get excited about the process and the joy it brings me when folks engage. Do the damn thing. It will never be perfect. Start anyway.

Which women have inspired you in your life?
I’m lucky to have such a warm, supportive community of women and femme-identifying folks. I’m inspired by each and every one of them! My goal is to have a friend representing each decade and walk of life. My people are risk-takers, they chart their own course and don’t really care how it looks to the outside world. They are radically honest, vulnerable, and always learning and developing themselves.

I would be remiss to not say my big inspiration is my mom. My parents, particularly my mom, never set limits on my potential. Any insecurity I’ve felt never came from my home but from the outside world. I let some frankly shitty people dull my shine before and I’m at a point where I’m super protective of that.

My mom is old school. She doesn’t own a phone. She recently figured out Netflix. And she refuses to drive in the city. Since she doesn’t text, she sends me cards in the mail, with notes of inspiration or article clippings. Or to simply say “What’s up, can you book be a hair appointment with the gal you like? Thanks!”

She gave me the sex talk when I was eight and took me to my first Planned Parenthood appointment. When I was especially sensitive to outside opinions and searching for answers as a young adult, she was always radically honest about her story. By sharing her journey with me, her joys and regrets, she gave me the courage to chart my own path.

Her love carries me through. It reminds me that just being is enough. I have no one I need to impress. In a culture that values #hustlehard and #girlboss, she taught me that a day well spent includes a nap and watering your plants. There are people who race to the red light. She taught me that we’re all going to get there at some point anyway. Roll down your window, enjoy the ride. I’m so lucky my mom gave me that perspective.

Contact Info:

• Email: quecutemarie@gmail.com
• Instagram: @quecutemarie

Image Credit:
First image: Maria Ignacia Miranda Santis, @mimsphotoart

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