Transcriber: Esther A. Reviewer: Denise RQ
Alright, alright.
I started my art collection "REHUMANIZE" because, like many of you,
I wanted to change the world.
I thought I had something to say.
Something powerful about sexual objectification,
human value, and self-worth.
But after working on "REHUMANIZE" for a while I started to realize
that I was the audience who needed to hear its message first.
So when they asked to share a bit about what I've learned with you today,
I knew I had a choice.
I could hide behind my accomplishments and achievements to look cool
and advance my career,
or I could just be really honest, lighting myself on fire,
with the hopes of connecting with you today.
Which is what my art is really about.
So I don't want to talk about changing the world.
I want to show you how to do it.
This is what it looks like to light myself on fire.
You might have noticed I have a bald spot in the back of my head.
I have an autoimmune disorder called alopecia.
Basically, my immune system attacks itself,
and I lose random patches of hair for no reason.
It happens overnight; it's kind of weird.
I know it's just hair, I know it's no big deal.
And I know how I look doesn't really matter.
But what I say I know and what I actually believe
is not the same thing, is it?
I know it's possible to accept myself with these spots, but it's hard.
I get uncomfortable and self conscious going out without fixing my hair
or wearing a hat.
I get embarrassed because I don't really believe
that how I look doesn't matter.
So my alopecia is a constant reminder and invitation
for me to stop putting so much value and self-worth in how I look.
It's a daily opportunity for me to accept myself, just as I am,
bald spots and all.
Or something like that.
Because most of the time I just don't know how to forget about it,
so I can get on with inviting others into self-acceptance and vulnerability.
(Laughter)
instead of going there for myself.
Because I'd rather be the good-looking guy that says, "Beauty is only skin deep."
(Laughter)
I want to be the accomplished artist who says,
"Just daring enough to put yourself out there, not getting recognized,
that's what matters."
I want to be the guy who has it all so I can tell everyone else that life
is about more than having it all.
(Laughter)
I'm okay with others not fitting in, as long as I do.
I'm grateful for the honor of being here today,
but I have to admit this is how I like it:
being in the spotlight,
(Laughter)
so I can tell others who aren't in the spotlight
that being in the spotlight doesn't really matter.
(Laughter)
It's as if I want to take a stand against the status quo
by fitting in to the status quo just to cover my bases.
Seriously, I want to change the world by lighting the way for others
with a flamethrower.
Lighting them on fire, right?
Instead of myself.
Because it's much easier to be peddlers of change
than it is to let change hit home in our own lives,
to be tourists on a landscape of self-worth and enough-ness,
trying to sell others a brand of belonging and acceptance
that we've yet to buy for ourselves.
But the thing is, if we want to change the world,
if you want to light the way for others, you have to light yourself on fire first.
I've had a really successful career.
I've worked with some incredibly talented people.
I've experienced wealth, power, fame, and everything that comes with that.
I'm super competitive, and I like to win.
But the thing about all my winning and competing is that it wears me out.
It's an endless and exhausting cycle of trying to prove myself.
To prove I'm acceptable, to prove I'm enough, to prove I fit in.
But the problem with this kind of fitting in, this type of inclusion,
is that it requires the exclusion of others.
In order for me to fit in, others can't.
Which sucks,
Because inclusion by exclusion is also the life blood of racism,
partisan politics, and fundamental religion.
Exclusivity demands I must fight to stay on top.
And staying on top is exhausting.
After years of staying on top, I finally burnt out in 2008.
I walked away from unprecedented success at the peak of my career.
My wife and I sold everything and we lived in a camper for a year.
A year of travel might sound easy for most of you, fair enough,
but for someone so wrapped up in what I did as the source of my worth,
not doing anything was disorienting.
It wrecked me.
I wrestled with a constant sense of inadequacy.
I was unable to separate who I was from what I did.
It was a painful process;
one that didn't end with a little bow tied around it when we got back.
I still struggle with bouts of insecurity, inadequacy, self-loathing.
We all do.
It's easier for me to receive love and acceptance from others
as long as I feel like I'm earning, achieving, or deserving it.
But that paradigm poisons the way I see myself and those around me.
Which brings me to an interesting thing that happened to me at a party last year.
A life-defining moment.
We were all hanging out, and I decided to go streaking.
(Laughter)
As you do.
(Laughter)
So I ran around naked for a while and then I jumped in the river.
Everyone was laughing and it felt good.
I was having a lot of fun until some idiot yelled,
"That is a small penis!"
(Laughter)
I don't know who he was but I felt sorry for the guy with the small penis.
(Laughter)
I tried to play it off but I couldn't help but wonder, "Was it true?"
Few things hurt like being literally or figuratively naked,
daring enough to be yourself, only to have someone say,
"Hey! You don't have what it takes; who do you think you are?"
And worse, it came from someone sitting fully clothed on the sidelines.
Right?
Revealing our human nature to choose spectating over participating.
I think one of the prevalent misconceptions in our culture
is that criticizing is the same as participating.
It's not the same thing!
I don't think blasting religious and political posts on Facebook
is taking the stand we think it is for whatever we believe in.
In fact, I think it might literally be the very least we can actually do
to particpate in our lives.
Preach!
(Applause)
Firing off 140-character tweets with simple solutions
to life's incredibly, insanely complex problems is not participation.
It's spam advertising for our arrogant ignorance
and inability to meaningfully connect with each other.
(Cheers) (Applause)
So there I was, 33 years old, and I'd never had a person in my life
say anything about the size of my junk.
(Laughter)
I remember having a pretty big one when I was a kid.
(Laughter)
But then again, I also had tiny hands.
(Laughter)
I had to know if I measured up.
So I looked up the average penis size online,
(Laughter)
and as I took out a yardstick to measure myself,
(Laughter)
— here it is —
the reality of the situation hit me.
This was going to be a paradigm-shifter.
Because even though I know that my genitals
have nothing to do with my self-worth or value, guess what?
I don't want a small penis!
(Laughter)
I want a big one!
(Laughter)
So I can tell others with small ones that size doesn't matter.
(Laughter) (Applause)
Like I said before, I want to measure up before I tell others it's okay not to.
As if to say, "It's okay if you don't have what it takes.
I've got enough of what it takes for both of us."
So as I measured myself, as many of you men will do tonight,
(Laughter)
it dawned on me that if I was bigger than average,
I wouldn't have to accept myself even if I didn't measure up.
I was going to miss out on that opportunity.
But if I was smaller than average, I was going to have to accept myself,
even though I didn't measure up.
So at only 9 inches long, I'm below average in penis size.
(Laughter)
What? Why are you laughing?
I'm not really 9 inches, but I am below average.
At this point you might want some concrete answers.
(Laughter)
By the say, I'll be at the after party and yes, you do want to party with me.
(Cheers) (Applause)
I'm sure you have questions like "Who are we? Why are we so valuable?
Why is this guy still talking about his penis?"
(Laughter)
But I'm not offering my answers.
I'm offering you an invitation to discover your own.
This idea worth spreading isn't an answer to be consumed and discarded.
I don't want to explain your value to you.
I want you to experience it for yourself.
It's the only way this works.
If you want to find your true self, you have to set your false self on fire.
I can't do it for you.
I can only lead the way by lighting myself on fire first.
I'm inviting you to dive inward instead of outward,
to find intrinsic worth instead of external affirmation.
I'm welcoming you into your inherent enough-ness
to discover a self-worth that connects us all together,
and a profound sense of sameness,
without discrediting our incredibly uniqueness.
Because we're all incredibly unique and special, just like everybody else.
If being unique and special just like everybody else sounds absurd
and it pisses you off, you're on the right track;
it pisses me off too.
When you realize this isn't something you can earn or achieve,
your inner earner and achiever is going to get upset.
But the part of you that knows you can't stay on top forever
is going to be able to breathe again.
With great resistance comes great relief.
My idea worth spreading
is that we're lucky when we don't measure up,
when we don't fit in, and don't have what it takes,
because then we have a chance to uncover who we really are.
It's our weakness and failures that show us how perfectly we fit in,
when we refuse to measure our self-worth and sense of belonging
against the poisonous paradigm of earning, achieving, and fitting in.
Sometimes, if you want to find out who you really are,
you have to get clear on who you aren't.
We are human beings, not human doings.
So if your boobs are too small or your butt is too big,
your butt is too small and your boobs too big,
whatever society is telling you isn't enough about you,
you're welcome to explore what it really means to be enough.
If some idiot says, "You have a small penis!"
or, "Your freaking hair is falling out for no reason!"
or if people think you're a weirdo for being too honest in your talk today,
(Laughter)
consider it a personalized, handmade, engraved invitation to finally be free.
You've hit the jackpot when you are at the end of your rope,
hitting rock bottom with nothing left to lose.
Because it's only when you've lost it all, that you can see how much you really have
and how valuable and enough you've been all along.
We're lovable, we are acceptable, and we are enough just as we are,
not as we should be.
That is an idea worth spreading.
Thank you very much.
(Applause) (Cheers)