Boys and Girls Ultimate: State Championships
Teams must qualify.
After an hour or so of playing my video games and speaking on the phone with my girlfriend I started to feel tired and that’s when I noticed something. There they were in the kitchen my mom, sisters and my dad were playing around very loudly with a Spanish accent. I felt a little left out and couldn't really hear them that well, But I wanted to be funny, so i said something to him “Dad why you acting so hype and loud,” my dad replied “What What ! I can acted how i feel because i do what i feel you know” right after his reply I knew he was playing because he was still speaking in the accent, I told him, “ha ha i understand but you acting real weird” then he changed his accent to imitate Scarface and replied, “look listen to me, ever day until Friday when my vacation start I'm going to come with a different accent “I thought about what he said and the only thing i kept thinking was it’s Tuesday and I’m going to have to listen to his ridiculous act for another three day’s. but then i said my thoughts out loud “This is going to be funny” he heard me say that with no problems “What’s so funny about the way I act jermel” he said this with a female voice it was by far the funniest voice i ever heard. I just had nothing to say to that so i told him “ you know what you got it.” then he started to laugh and was like okay “I'm done that was to funny” Then he yelled “Who you talking to on the phone, Tiye” everyone always knew i was talking to tiye on the phone because i was always on the phone with her. “ Yea” then he asked this question he always asked “ how do y’all talk on the phone so much and never get bored or anything.” i just replied the same way i do any other time. “ We just talk i don’t know” but then he changed the subject and told me to tell tiye something “Yo for real tell tiye she crazy” Then i pauses the game and asked him to repeat what he said. “She crazy if she messing with you” i laughed, unpaused the game and told tiye “ My dad said your crazy because your going out with me” she replied as she laughed, but she felt awkward and said “ Ummm okay” she said this fairly slow like she didn't know what to say. “ Dad she said okay” I'm guessing he didn’t hear me because he stayed talking to my sister. I just continued to play my game and talk to tiye.
My dad was talking about how he is so happy that his vacation is coming and i was happy too because really i don't get to see him that much because he work all the time. We was supposed to have a great vacation.But not everything goes as planned.
It’s been two day’s and with one blow everything changed. Again I’m on the phone with tiye playing around with her. “ I gotchu don’t speak no words to me good bye.” I hanged up the phone to mess with her but as soon as i hanged up the phone my mom call me in the kitchen. “ Jermel come here i need to talk to you” I’m nervous because when she say that i know it’s ether I'm in trouble or somethings wrong , but as soon as i walked i realized something was terribly wrong, my mom face had tears running down them and her face was down. She started to look up at me and i said “Mom What’s wrong?” with tears poring she said “ Uncle Rif passed away” the feeling of a very strong punch to the heart but i didn’t cry. it was weird, i said to her “ Mom what happen” she just said real fast “He stop breathing” I just hold her until she let go and she went in her room and i went to my room. When i went to my bed I Called her to talk to her. I really didn’t have anyone to talk to because everyone always tell me i have to be strong for other people even if I’m hurt, but she didn’t answer my call so i texted her and explained that i need to talk to her I wasn’t playing around. After i sent the texted her, I call again and she answered and i told her what happen.
Later on that day i was just in my room relaxing playing my PlayStation 3 and my cousin Aquil walk in With a 76ers Jersey on and basketball short. Aquil is my uncle rif “Yo Mel-Mel wassup” He looked like he was 6’5 “Nothin playing call of duty as always man, but how you been, you good” “Yea I’m good chillin over grammy house, you should come over sometimes.” when he said that all i thought was ever time i go to grammy house i get in soo much trouble because i act so retarded over there. I Just replied “ I Will but you know my parent be drawlin all the time” I Guessed he believed me because he looked at me as if he understand exactly what I’m talking about then he just said “ True Cuz they do be drawlin all the time ha-ha but what’s up with you and all the Lady’s” I laughed in my head because he always trying to make a joke. “Man I Have a serious relationship right now don’t laugh at me ha” then he replied ”Man I'm not going to laugh I'm in one to and I’m enjoy it.” Then he look at the game and said “Come on cuz let me trash you in this real quick” He seemed okay but i knew he was feeling hurt and sad because his father just passed and i know if my father passed i would be hurt. At this time i had so much respect for him and i kinda looked up to him. One thing that always hurt me is to have to watch my family cry and be hurt, and for my cousin to a have to watch his 5 year old brother talk about “Daddy, Daddy, where is Daddy” And His little Sister that is 14 cry her heart out because her father will not be coming home anymore. I really don’t know how he Did it but he showed me a different part of him and i will never look at him the same.
By the Night i went to talk to my dad because he always told me how close uncle rif was to him. all i asked him “Are you he okay” and he just replied “yea man” but i really didn’t have anything to say about it to him. i really was worried for him. but i didn’t know what to do.
After the funerals Day’s later. I Reflected on everything. Everyone knows that Men always have to be strong for the Woman, but I've learned that it’s not something you learn, it’s something that comes naturally. No Matter how hurt we are as men, we will always try to keep our feeling to our self. I can say with being a male our job is to make sure everyone Else is okay and stay strong for females in our life. It comes natural like a habit but it is something we have to do and will always do.
I stepped in my house very eager because I couldn’t wait to go upstairs in my room and rest my brain. Instead I was greeted by all of my family members. I guess they expected me to be an emotional wreck. However, it was the complete opposite. I was expecting myself to flood Philadelphia with my tears, but my eyes were as dry as the Sahara desert. This was not healthy for me. I needed to let it out. I felt since everyone around me needed somebody to lean on, I had to be the strongest thirteen-year-old there was.
I sat down at my dining room table, frustrated with life. My sister approached me with her big brown eyes filled with water. I didn’t need that right then. I needed a break from everyone’s tears and heartbreak. Anybody could tell that I was tight-lipped because I needed to find out how to deal with my pain. However, I sucked it up and told my sister “What did grand mom always tell us to do when we felt like there was nothing left?” She was so hysterical she could barley answer, so she shrugged. My grandmother always told us to pray. I grabbed my sister’s hand very gently, and brought her over to the piece of art work (The Lord’s Supper). She looked at me and grinned.
My mother handled this situation better than I thought she would. I didn’t see her shed a tear. I did something I was very wary about because I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. I asked my mother why didn’t she cry when her mother died. She looked at me and said, “I had nothing to cry about.” She did everything right by her mother she stated. She felt that her brother and sisters were so emotional because when their mother was alive, they didn’t do everything for her that they were capable of doing. As a result of that, they felt guilty. I started to think how my aunts and uncle felt at this moment. I asked myself “If my mom died today, would I be pleased with how I treated her?” I couldn’t help but cry myself a river. In my eyes I treated my mother so poorly.
Waking up on Sunday mornings are complicated. I am always plotting a plan so it can keep me from going to church. Every Saturday night my mother tells me, “Get your clothes out Lex and be ready for church”. Then I say in my head, “Yea yea, I’m not going to be anywhere but my comfy bed”. Usually my excuses like “My tummy hurt mommy”, or “I’m so tired”, works on my mom. This Sunday morning, my mom was on something totally different.
I heard the creeks of my floor on this beautiful Sunday morning, and automatically thought “Get your game face on Lex”. I turned around peacefully and opened my eyes to my mother’s big round head and Chuckie look alike glasses from the Rugrats. She startled me, but I had to get back in character. I turned around and mumbled “Mom, my stomach hurts so I can’t go to church”. My mom said, “The heck you aren’t, I’m tired of your B.S Lex!” This came as a shock to me because I was use to the answer yes, not the two letter word that begins with the letter “N”.
My mom thought she had won but there is always a plan B in Lexus’s book. I figured maybe if I took forever, by the time my mom was ready to go, I wouldn’t be dressed and she would just leave me. I had another thing coming! My mom said, “Come on Lex!” I barely had any clothes on, so I yelled, “Mom are you kidding me… I barely have one leg in my pants”. She said, “Oh well whose fault is that, now come on”. I was almost devastated about this. I didn’t want people to see me at my worst in church. I know church is not supposed to be about showing off, it’s supposed to be about your worship time with the higher source. However, in my head first it’s about worshipping and second it’s a fashion show.
Getting in the car with my hair all over my head, no make-up, and no phone just seemed unreal to me. I was so appalled with the whole situation. I was furious with my mom. I dared my mom to ask me a question because she was definitely getting the silent treatment on this morning. I couldn’t let my mom tell that this was getting to me though because then she was going to feel that she won this war. I held my tears in that felt like they were trying to push out like a fifty-pound weights all the way to the church. Once we got to the church I finally snapped on my mother. I told her that she was a mean and horrible mother. I finally realized what I said and how much I hurt my mother’s feelings. My mom does everything in her power to take care of me and I don’t know what I would without her.
I don’t want to end up like my aunts and uncles. If my mom was to die today I would like to know that I did everything in my power to make her feel like she is the best mom in the world only because she is. I would be up to me head in guilt if she had died and I knew that I didn’t treat my mom with respect and expressed to her that I appreciated her.
“Dad and I need to talk to you about something,’ my mom said in a stern voice.
“Is it bad? Cause you seem sad.”
“You won’t be happy about it.”
“What is going on,” I ask cautiously.
“Your dad and I, we need to talk to you about something important.” My mom states firmly.
“What is it?’
“Your mom and I have been having some problems. Problems that aren’t getting ironed out,’ my dad says“What kind of problems,” I ask franticly.
“WHAT? What does that even mean? You guys love each other and you are supposed to get along, perfectly.”
“Your dad and I are separating. He has to move out.”“SEP-ER-ATING? What does that mean,” I state more confused than before.
“I’ve never seen you guys argue.”
Well, we have been so we decided to separate. This is for your own good; we want you to grow up happy in a healthy home,” my dad says.
“Okay, I guess,” I say in an unsatisfied voice.I didn’t know what else to say, I didn’t know what to do. How was I supposed to go to school with this feeling in my stomach? I cried for as long as tears were still coming out of my eyes.
After my parents split, I use to lie to my friends or to anybody new I met. I didn’t want people to think I was in a broken home. I didn’t want people to think I was the reason why my parents split up. I never talked about my parents, never said anything about where I lived, or whom I lived with. For about 3 to 4 years, I never said anything about my parents or my home life.I didn’t see my dad for a while, but when I did see him everything was different. My parents tried to work on getting along more just for me. They were getting good but I was still worried. The next thing I know we are going on vacation together. I never understood how a split up family could go on vacation. I swore my parents hated each other, I swore they never wanted to see each other again. I know they still loved me, but they didn’t love each other. How could they be together, at the shore for a week? I was scared for my dear life; I didn’t want to witness my parents getting into an argument. The drive to the shore was slow and full of anticipation I was just so excited to go to the shore, but in the back of my mind, my parents were always there. As the week went on, there weren’t any arguments; there weren’t any viscous looks at each other, just love. Everything was fine and dandy.
As I got older, life got better. My dad and my mom were getting along better. We went out to dinner together, to the movies together, and different places. We went to Longhorns together and everything was amazing. We were able to laugh and eat in peace. We tried each other’s food. Things became clear. My parents became closer because of me. If I did something amazing, like getting great grades, they were happy. If I did something horribly wrong, they both showed the same amount of disappoint in me.
On my 8th grade graduation, I went out to dinner with them. We ate with the whole family. Everybody was laughing, and getting along. Nobody argued all day, it was just like the vacation to the shore. I wished for more days like this, when we looked like a normal family. The conversation was loving and not disrespectful.
“Dakota, what are you going to do now? HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT,’ my dad yells in the middle of the restaurant.
“Hahahahahaha, Troy. Don’t pressure the girl, she is fresh outta middle school,’ my mom giggles.
“You guys are so weird,” I say in a loving voice.
“We are so proud of you, Dakota,” they state in the most loving voice.I made it all the way to high school, with the grades. I knew everything that I needed to know. I graduated 8th grade on June 13th, I never failed any classes or was left back. Just like any other married couple with a family, I had higher grades then some of than those kids. When I walked onto that stage, my parents gazed up at me, and then looked at each other. Right then, they knew and I knew. There wasn’t anything to every be ashamed of. They knew splitting up was better than me seeing people fight everyday or them holding it off. They knew that they raised me well. They were so proud of me and I was so proud of them. I rather am in a home with one parent, then being in a home with both parents who argue all the time.
Now, I am older and the problems aren’t arguments between them, but arguments with me. I wouldn’t want to talk to them because I felt like they wouldn’t listen to me. I felt like a kid and they were ganging up on me. Now, it was 2 against 1. Some days I didn’t want to talk to my dad or on other days I didn’t want to talk to my mom. It was just like if we all lived in the same house. I would see my dad every other weekend or during the week. I live with my mom and we got into arguments. We were still a family, just in different houses.
I never should’ve hid anything; I am proud of where I come from. People still give me dirty looks when they find out about my parents. Why? Because they are just jealous. Jealous of the fact that my family had a rollercoaster of a life, and it isn’t even over yet. Jealous that the rollercoaster isn’t even done yet, the hills will get higher and then downfall will get longer. Only my parents can keep me anchored to the rollercoaster seat.
Joy was seen in my smile, but nervousness was shown in my eyes. I was happy that it was a new school year. It was my sophomore year. I have three goals and one of them is to get rid of my clumsiness habit. I trip and stumble all the time. I have tried to be more conscious of my surroundings but it doesn’t seem to help. I feel like I am cursed. Whenever I injure myself it is always on a day where something bad is going to happen or already did. I know that from then on, I am just going to have bad luck that day. Can I break free from this curse? Can I?
I hear my grandmother calling my name, DEJAH DEJAH! I overlook it. Its 6:00 in the morning and I can’t get out of bed. She comes back half an hour later and shakes me saying, “WAKE UP”! I can barely see her face and I attempt to open my eyes. My eyelids felt heavy and dropped back down. Tiredness got the best of me. I was finally able to overcome it. After I did, I was able to get dressed, brush my teeth, do my hair, and eat breakfast in 30 minutes. Mental stability was key in this process. My day began to pick up and I THOUGHT it was going well. I was wrong.
As my grandmother was leaving our driveway, I asked her if I could go to Dunkin Donuts to get a hot chocolate. After getting back inside the car I let the hot chocolate cool in one of the cup holders. My grandmother went to start the car and nothing happened. The engine light was flashing. We were stranded for 20 minutes until we found a cab to take us back to the house to get my mothers car. It was a good thing that she was out of town. I prayed and hoped that today wouldn’t be a bad day.
There was so much traffic. It made the car ride to school tedious. I tripped twice while in school. In each class I received homework to put in my day planner. Joy was visible by the smile on my face when I found out that school ended early. I took the bus home.
I have been stumbling through my life. Literally. My friends and family call me clumsy or accident-prone all the time. When I was younger I never felt like a sturdy walker or the most athletic person. Almost every sport that I have tried to do I have injured myself in some way, shape, or form. The only two sports that I succeeded in were tennis and volleyball. That is only because my father is a tennis instructor and my mother used to play volleyball. They both helped me. However, there are still so many injuries that happen on a daily basis.
When I got home, I went into my kitchen to make myself a quick snack. When I was cooking grease popped onto my face. I was startled. My arm flinched and I hit the handle of the pan. It went onto the island of the kitchen. I went into my dinning room to get some paper towels. Ironically, I slipped on some water. While I was falling I tried to catch myself by grabbing the dinning room table. However, I ended up actually knocking over a candle with a glass case onto the floor. I picked up all the glass pieces and try to get more paper towels to wipe up the mess that I made in the kitchen.
I was on my way back into the kitchen when a piece of glass went through my sock and into the ball of my foot. I limped into the kitchen to sit on a stool to try to get the large piece of glass out. I slowly tried to pull it out flinching from the pain. Then, the glass shattered and the tip was still in my foot. It was a stinging sensation. Every time I would step, it felt like I was getting a needle in my foot.
The next day, the glass was still in my foot. However, I would walk and I could fill the glass going into my foot deeper and deeper. My brother had to tear into my skin and finally get a piece of glass out smaller than a pea. I am not really sure if all the glass is gone or if some is still in there because the sharp pain in my foot is still there. However, it might just be the pain from all the skin that had to be taken off my foot.
Having glass in my foot was less pain than when I spilled hot chocolate on myself. I opened the bag of coco powder packet and ripped the top flap off. I was so excited to make my hot chocolate that I sloppily poured the coco mix into the cup. I missed and 1/8 of the powder ended up next to the cup. I mixed the water and powder together to create a brown hot liquid. There was so much steam coming from it. I grabbed a paper towel and sat down. I wiped up the powder that I had spilled. However, I wiped too much and knocked the cup onto my left leg where my left hand also was. I was screaming at the top of my lungs “AAHHHHHHHHHHHHH”. Thankfully I had on a large sweat suit that absorbed most of the hot chocolate. However, the chocolate seeped though it enough to give me a second degree burn.
The people around me flinch whenever I fall. My friends sometimes giggle and I do the same. What am I supposed to do? All I can do is get up and walk it out. My family just ignores it. They know that I injure myself all the time. My brother just tells me to man up and my parents just let it go. I feel accident-prone. I can never change that because I can’t change me. I won’t change me. Therefore, maybe I should only have two goals this year; to get straight A’s and scholarship money.
Homage to Family -
Color flying, sun shining bright, leaves falling. I didn’t have a care in the word, except the next paint ball that might hit me. I was running left, then right, trying to dodge all the paint. I can still feel the gun in my hand. The push from the CO2 pushing the ball out of the chamber towards its target. Paint rushing by my head, I duck behind a bunker. I was pinned down, so I shouted to my friend “I'm pinned! Help me out”. So he proudly stood up and fired off seven bullets. In those six seconds I had enough cover to stand up and sprint across the field firing blindly with my left hand (probably not hitting anything but scaring the opponents). I looked over and I was reminded of a picture that my sister once painted. It was a picture of an elephant standing on top of a ball, with colors shooting out of it. I felt kind of like that elephant, precariously perched with colors flying at me from all directions.
Soon after my daring escape we fired our last bullets and just like that, the game was over. We all got up from our hiding spots and went and shook hands. The animosity that was there only seconds ago was now completely gone and replaced with grins and smirks. No care over who won or lost, just a care over how much fun we had.
We looked around to see how many times we had been hit. I saw two blotches of red and orange on my pants and one other pink shot on my shoe. Then I saw it, the blotch of reds, pinks, and oranges that used to be my friend. He was covered from head to toe in color. He looked like a clown that was caught in the rain. We all laughed for a while and refilled our ammo and started again. The animosity soon returning.
When I think about these moments in my life, I think about my sister, and my family. I have a big family and my family is very important to me. I think about her because she is the one who painted the picture. When I think about her I feel pride. Pride in what she has done, and how she has handled everything. My sister now lives in Germany with her boyfriend. When she moved she was just 25. She moved over there with my oldest brother who was just 22 when he left to travel the world. Now he is 31 and she is 29. They are both very successful by themselves. One time we went to visit them, and I felt like a fish out of water. It was very difficult to fit in. Not many people knew English, to this day I have no idea how my sister and my brother lived through it.
One time my brother and I went to the bakery to get pastries for the family and we had to order in German. We sat there thinking about what to say to the person. Using our collective knowledge of the German language we said “fear chocolate pastries”. The women behind the counter winced at our butchering of her language, then she laughed. She said in the most southern accent that I could have imagined “Do y’all want 4 chocolate pastries?” My brother and I said yes ma’am and paid for the pastries and left. That whole time I was thinking, that this would only happen if I was with my family. If I had been with my friends, everything would have gone off without a hitch.
I believe that through everything, your family is the most important thing in the whole world. This is because if you don’t have family then you will be lost. Its what keeps you on track and keeps you out of danger. Even through the craziness and yelling at each other, I love my family till the bitter end, and I would do anything for them.
Later that night, after shooting almost 4000 paint balls we collapsed in front of the camp fire. Something about watching a camp fire is hypnotizing. The way it sways and moves like nothing else on earth. It’s motions are so fluid that it is almost like a liquid. It just makes you want to stop everything that you are doing and look at it. Even though we were tired, and ache from a day packed with crazy amounts of paintball we still needed light to fight off the quickly darkening hill that we were on. This meant that someone needed to accomplish the incredible daunting task of getting firewood. If you have never done this in the dark, it is very problematic. This is because we had no other form of light that we could take with us, so that we could go and get the wood for the fire. So we did what every young teenager has wanted to do, we made a torch.
First we got a paint roller and stuck it on top of large stick. Then we wrapped the paint roller in string so that it would burn. After that it was the moment of truth. Would it light and stay on fire, or would it crash and burn? Miraculously, when we lit it, it stayed on fire.
Then we left the already dwindling camp fire, with the torch in hand. If you ever thought that a torch would be a good idea, it is not. As soon as we got out of sight of the fire, the torch melted something started dripping onto our hands. Then of course they all went out. With light the forest can be gorgeous, but when the lights go out you see the underbelly of the forest. You see how malicious and scary it can be. We couldn't see a single thing. It was as if someone had blind folded us and left us there. It is a freaky feeling not being able to see what is around you. The only way we were able to get back to the camp fire was by using our phones as flashlights
When we got back to the camp fire, our parents inquired to where we had been gone for so long. We answered truthfully, we said that we had no clue. Then we told them all about how the torch that we had made had gone out and that we had been stranded. Our parents reply to this was, “Where is the fire wood?”
We just laughed and went to pitch the tent for us to sleep in. We spent a good 2 hours trying to get the tent to stand on its own, but to no avail. So we did the next logical thing, we slept in the car. This works sometimes during the summer and when the weather is nice. Unfortunately for us with was 30 degrees, needless to say we didn’t get much sleep.
That night I realized that my friends and family are crucial to my life and that if I didn’t have them I would have nothing. I believe this because your rely on them through the bad, and you help them up when they are down. To this day, I still believe that if you have no money, no home, if you have you friends and family, you can get through it.
Tip, tap, tip, tap, tip, tap. The quiet tip tap of all of our feet can be heard behind the music. The funkiness of Sly and the Family Stone was all we needed. “Thank you-for letting me-be myself- again”. Our smooth melodic groove started with the bass. Then came the drums, guitar, and Finlay keys to add the finishing touches. We started to ease into the pocket. Heads began to nod, people started to loosen up and improvise. Solos started with the guitar. When he was finished Julian began his solo. Soon after that we began to take it down a few notches getting closer to the end. I nodded at Sam, who nodded at Julian, who nodded at my brother. We were about to end the song.
As we were ending I caught on to something quite interesting. When we were playing we could communicate through eye contact. This amazed me because so many times before I had been stumped by the “arrange yourself in birthday order without talking game.” This game consists of putting people who have never met before in a room and telling them to arrange themselves in order of their birthday months. Playing live Music is somewhat like those games.
Later that night I reflected on other jam sessions that I had been to. The moments came flooding back to me. Almost every musician when playing does this or some form of this. I found that eye contact was a much more powerful form of communication, Meaning that in situations that the musicians are in deep concentration they are not going to yell out to you through the music. When someone is playing they must constantly being aware of what everyone else is doing, Including themselves. If one person is not aware then the music is lost and everyone is just playing in their own little world.In music their are many different ways of communicating such as, tapping your head, nodding, head gestures, and just plain eye contact. Some of the older more experienced Jazz musicians tap their heads with their pointer fingers to indicate that they are going back to the head of the tune. The head for those who do not know, is basically the beginning melody of a song. Other times to signal the bridge of a song a bass or guitar player will tap the bridge of their instrument. The bridge of an instrument is the piece that holds the strings up off the bottom of the instrument making it so that the strings make a sound.
Jazz is a dying art. Their are very few Jazz clubs left in Philadelphia and Philadelphia was a world center for Jazz back in its prime. People used to study for years and then be able to play with each other and understand group connections. Now with all of these computer programs and Internet sites I is easy to whip out synthesizersoftware and boom, your making music.
Synthesizers and other musical equipment are great tools if used right. But what is dying is not only Jazz. It is all forms of social music. People can create whole tunes by themselves on their computers just by pressing a few buttons. The result of this is that we lose our capability to socialize and play music. Recordings of music used to be done with people face toface. Now people record in solitude. When they are finished doing their own separate parts they are forced together on computer. This defeats the purpose of listening to one another and makes it so that improvisation is slowly fading .
When I was about six I started playing baseball, for Mt. Airy in Philadelphia. Obviously it didn’t matter if you were skilled or not it was solely to have fun and make new friends. It was easy to. No one cared if you could throw the ball from second to first. Or stop a slow grounder. If you had peanut butter and jelly for lunch you had friends.
I remember my first baseball game; it was my birthday and didn’t really feel like being there. Armed with a stiff plastic glove, and narrow a blue Warrior metal bat I started to feel a little more at home. 9th to bat, after the all the kids who could make a pop fly catch, I grasped the thin electric taped handle of my bat, and walked into the batters box. We had gone over what side you go to at practice a few times, but I didn’t remember the first time. I tapped the bat to the plate, aimed at the ball sitting atop the tee and swung. I was never sure if I actually made contact with the ball or the hard pedestal. But I saw the ball on the ground and I ran. I was going to make it to first base. I tripped and my arms fell forward. I wrapped my arms gingerly around the bag. “SAFE,” yelled the umpire. Maybe with some hard work and sticking to it I could make it to second base next time. Either way, I was hooked. I knew, from then on baseball was a part of me, an idea that has the ability to make anyone feel safe and befriended. I was now part of the gigantic body of fans that are will forever be my semi-close family.
“Ai-yah.” Most people would think is just a random yelp or something you’d hear down in the subway howled by the local crazy person. But I will explain how it is more then that.
The word “Ai-yah,” or Kia comes from all types of karate, martial arts, and self-defense. It is used in attempt to scare the opponent when yelled in part with an attack. Some teachers enforce this tradition ritualistically, occasionally punishing the student for failing to yell louder. These simple words can easily affect the outcome of ones life.
I still remember getting my black belt and always try to cherish that moment. I was 13 and had been studying karate for 5 years. My teacher Sensei Mike had been gruelingly training me for a while and it was finally the black belt extravaganza. This event is where, after the initial test where you perform techniques and katas is preformed, you receive your black belt.
We were all lined up, my brother and I, also a few of or friends. At the front line of the karate mat, we were waiting for our belts. The instructor announces our name and we freeze. This moment would change our lives forever. A heavy man, Sensei Mike dented the mat with every step towards me. Carrying our black belts sewed with golden lettering, inside a thin plastic bag. He told us to take off our old belts, and lay them on the floor. I was reluctant to do so, after being told the years before to never let my belt touch the ground. He gently smacked the belt into my hand. The feeling of biting your tongue or human nails gouging a black board ran up my back. I undressed the belt from the plastic covering and began to tie it. My hands shaking, my heart pumping, the crowd watching. Green and blue eyes in the background, the shiny yellow letters in the foreground mixed with my hands. It took me a little long to finish the knot but I defiantly didn’t care. I had gotten my black belt. For me it meant authority, he power to tell people right from wrong leading in the right direction towards success and responsibility. It meant more then just a differently colored belt. It shows who I am and what I had to work for to achieve this title.
Discipline shaped me. I work well when told what to do. I try my best to fulfill the requirements set on me. I if I put my mind to it I can always overcome the obstacle. I know what is good for me. I know that work comes before play, Brains beats brawn. But I would rather have both. Training myself to achieve maximum excellence. Discipline makes sports discipline makes me.
Soccer has been around for a long time and through the ages, the people who play it are almost always attached for life. Maybe it’s the fun or the friendship but for me it will always be the glory.
I love that feeling of a great kick. Perfectly connecting with the bounciest part of the soccer ball. The crowd, or the few parents, hushes as the ball sails across the field into the net. The goalie gets up dusts themselves off and, in defeat, walks back to the sidelines. I strive for this feeling, an injection of pure success and glory.
I started playing soccer when I was about seven, my mom asked me if I wanted to be on my best friends team, the Revolution. Of course I said yes, this was going to be so fun. My friend’s dad was the coach, and he started me at defense. Trying hard to not let the other team get past usually went in vain. I really needed to learn how to play better. I bet a few years would help.
Now I was ten and joined my school team. Again I started for defense but this time I knew what I was doing. Almost every time an offender came down the field I stole the ball and passed it back up the sideline.The few times they dribbled past me usually resulted in a goal. Gulled, by the skill of the kids I watched them yell and scream. Some times they even came over to me. Juiced with selfishness and ignorance they called me names and pushed me around. It probably wasn't the best idea to retaliate. But I really had to hold myself.
After the game my coach had a team small meeting. He really expressed how important it was to reamin calm and uphold the golden rule of sportsmanship. I was stunned, people cared about this so much, and I should too. Sportsmanship was so important, and now I knew. I would uphold this for the rest of my life. I love to make new friends, achieve the glory of a goal and express my self through sports.
Now I am 15 I bat fourth in my baseball lineup, start forward for soccer, and I am going for my 1st degree black belt in October. I have gone a long way since I began doing sports. After all the years I have been changed physically and my outlook on the world. Hard work, Dedication, Discipline, and Sportsmanship. These make the person and the sports, if I try my best to follow these principals, hopefully I can achieve my goals. I could like feel everything is reachable with only a solid good effort, an effort that shows what I am capable of and what really makes me, me.
So as the love story begins to unravel I sit there as I slowly become the envy of all of our friends. We went to every one our classes together because I had purposely took a placement test so I can be in side all our classes together .The first couple of weeks were cool, we were always together and would eat, study, chill, do work, and everything together. I was told that her and I would be together for all of high school or at least a very long time together because we were really in love. I knew everything about her and she knew everything about me. I loved the fact that I was so open with her like for example when I had a problem in any class or in life in general she was always their to talk to, those are the things that I will never forget and will always hold dear to my heart.
The only problem that i had when I was going with her was the weather and the way it affected my asthma. So to give you a big picture to explain my condition; when it got cold and I inhaled the brisk October/November it made ma air ways tighten and get smaller not letting me breath. 400 grams , 600 grams , and still counting grams of Steroids,Albuterol,Ranitine, and many more medicine that I received where the only thing keeping me able to breath but it was also only available at the hospital. When i needed medicine it was either to late or not strong enough for my asthma so their fore I had to go to the hospital. While admitted she would come to my beside and tell me how school was and also bring me food and tell me a random story on how she fell out of no where or how she was going to run a billion miles in a circle(its realy more of an Oval). Track and Cross-Country where her favorite things to do but i was never able to be their because it was in the hospital and that wasn’t fair for her.
When I think back to that day all I can do is cry. I cry not because I am sad but I because I am not able to handle all the feelings I have. I guess you can say that its my fault because that’s what would be a good idea so I wouldn’t have to see the one I love go through a bunch of conflicts and hard ships because I’m not their to help her with her problems and console her. But at the same time what can I do the last time I was in school I left in an ambulance to Hanamin hospital because I couldn’t breath. To make this tense scenario I guess I couldn’t breath because being with her was breath taking. So the date is December 26,2010 and its about 4:45 in the afternoon and I get on the phone and call her and tell her that I don't want her to go through all this and I make the decision to break up with her . It was not easy to tell the one you love the most that you and her can no longer be because of the fact that your asthma is acting up and leaving you in the hospital. So she takes the break up pretty hard from what I heard but by the time school had started again after the winter break she was over it and also me. Even though it hurt a lot I think that it wasn’t a bad decision because I still care about the one I love but, also I think it was dumb for the reason that I gave her up. One day I hope to rekindle the spark that we once had…
My life has always been interesting but one of the most interesting was a breezy autumn day filled with the smell and feel of fall, which made me excited for the upcoming holiday Halloween. But nothing was more exciting than what happened next. I approached my house climbing the concrete steps holding on to the cast iron railing, I brushed the bush and felt the dew of the freshly fallen rain that gave me goosebumps and made my arm smell like the car fresheners that are shaped like pine trees. I continued up the steps to hear the screams of my mom and sister. I ran up the rest of the steps to get to my door. I scrambled to get my key out to see what was happening.
I heard the squawking of a bird which made me stop to see where it was coming from i looked to the garden in front of my house the forest to the left to the skies to the bushes filled with berries. But I didn’t see the bird so I unlocked the door and heard the key move the locking mechanism out of the way I swung the door open. To see the house torn apart with my mom running with a broom my sister with a towel that looked like their was blood stains on it. My cat was puffed up with his claws out crying and baring his teeth at a seagull trapped in the corner. Like the last kid in a game of tag.
I ran to get something to help but I didn't know what I scrambled into my room to see the TV smashed into thousands of pieces of metal and glass and plastic all over the place with drops of blood leading out of my room. The window was wide open with a cool breeze blowing in with the smells of fallen leaves and dying plants. My eyes dart quicker than a cheetah looking for something to trap the seagull with, I see my laundry basket tuned over on the floor. I tip-toed across the floor filled with blood and broken glass and grabbed the basket.
I ran back to the living room to see they still hadn't caught the source of the destruction and mayhem, so I charged at the winged beast and missed and ended up hitting the cat stand.
Finally my sister caught the bird and I got a close look at it and realized that it was as scared and confused as we were it hurt itself because i left the window open i could see the blood coming out of the bird and made me think if it would even survive i begged my mom to help it but she said their was nothing that we could do to help it. I met eye to eye with the foe that taunted me for so long and looked inside of it and saw not a creature bent on a structure but a scared child that just wanted to cry and scream but just couldn't.
I thought i saw a tear leave its eye but i couldn't tell for sure my sister threw it outside like trash i watched it squirm on the ground trying to get up and than i saw that little kid that just wanted to scream and cry but couldn't. I couldn't help but think if I would have done what I was told than the horrible tragedy that happened could have been avoided.
Soon after this my vacation started and the thought of that poor bird being thrust into the situation that i caused was still in my head it would be nice to go somewhere to try to forget about the whole thing. We arrived at DC and the first thing I wanted to see was the Lincoln memorial because to me the mans idea out grew the man and i don't think the memorial is to remember Abraham Lincoln I think its to his idea of equality and fairness in a world that didn't accept you because of the littlest things. He is truly one of the greatest men in history who’s ideas and name will live forever, he shaped the way i want to live my life and how i live my life. I never once discriminated against someone because of something they couldn't control, and to this day i really wish that everyone could do what Abraham Lincoln did one-hundred years before anyone would have even thought of having the same rights as a white man.
I think this is something that we as Americans really take for granted and we don't respect what the man stood for and who he really was. When i told this to my mom she thought i was just saying stuff so we would go their first but she didn't understand that my words were spoken from the heart not the mouth.
So we went to her places first, the first place we visited was the Washington DC zoo, where we wasted our time in our nations capital i could see lions tigers and bears at any zoo but their was only one Lincoln memorial i kept trying to explain this but i was shutdown over and over again.
Than we went to lunch where i found myself eating something called a gooey duck which had the flavors of a rotten fish and oranges.
But finally the memorial was on our agenda i walked up the cool shining steps leading to the man who influenced my life and philosophy. I stood at his gigantic feet if his body was any representation of his ideas than my respect and admiration of the man and his ideas were well earned. I stood their and just appreciated the man who started it all the father of freedom, and made me resolve my problems with what happened with bird if it was alive and healthy it was free and if it was dead than it was free from all mortal boundaries.
I went in to my hot pink room that looked as if we took a bottle of pepto bizmol an threw it on the wall. I said to my older sister “Whats the plans for the day?” the room fell silent you could almost hear a pen drop even though we had carpet. Her eyes began to water a little and she chuckled and said “we’re moving” with a half smiling half crying face as if she had just saw the funniest thing in the world. I began to historically laugh and i said “ha ha Happy New year to you to, Now we both know we're not moving anywhere why would you joke like that.” After living in South Philadelphia for three years we were pretty content and i was pretty sure that moving was out of the question for at least another year or two. Her face fell serious and she hesitantly said “ I’m not joking now get dressed and help us move dad’s stuff out.” My heart dropped and felt as if it had fallen on the floor and broken. My eyes began to tear or more like waterfall.
Later on that day after I had gotten dressed I went down stairs into my living room squeezed pass the bags and i looked at there picture Hanging on the wall beside the staircase, taking up the width of three panels, the light brown frame surrounding the black inside of the frame. Their picture perfect smiles shining brightly like joy was in the air. Sunlight beaming through the tree’s that filled the plain behind them. His brown skin looked smooth with his black hair. Her white dress brought out the lighter color in her skin, and the darker color in his. Her skin glowed and made her pearl white dress create the Cinderella and Prince Charming beginning to their marriage.
This picture stuck in my mind from the day we moved him out until the third week, and fifth day after when moved him back in. I guess that picture remained there through it all to show that no matter what they’ll both still be there for each other. Whenever their having trouble I think about the picture, or even back to the day that it was taken.
“Wake up girl its your big day” My aunt says to my mom on this bright but rainy day in July. My mother woke up and climb out of bed with a bonnet on her head making her look as if she was a cone head. Her hair was freshly done, nicely rapped into a bun she had just gone to the hair dressers the night before. She went down the stairs to see all of her flower girls, bridesmaids,maid of honors, and matron of honors waiting to welcome her to the breakfast table with big beautiful smiles. We sat from oldest to youngest at the table starting with the oldest on her side. Her seat at the table was decorated with congratulations ribbons and white rose petals to make her day turn out beautiful. My aunt opened the window shutters to the big front window to let the little bit of light in form the rainy day. We ate a little bit just enough to hold us over because we were tight with time. Eleven girls needed to be dressed and ready to go within the next couple of hours.
She began to get dressed but with 10 other women running around the house like wild chickens with there heads off, there was no chance of us being on time. She looked out the huge bedroom window that had white shutters covering them to see where the tiny gray Toyota was parked so that she could go get her nails and toes done. Just then she realized that it was no where in sight after talking to my day in a tone of panic she found out that he had taken the car. She slipped on the cream wedding dress that was laced with beads. My aunt went to zip up the back of the dress and there was a ripping noise, and weird feeling in the room that made us know that something happened. My aunts face feel blank and with the zipper in her hand began to apologize like there was a death in the room. From that point on the day was filled with horror around every Conner. This became a nightmare wedding, it had no effect on there marriage or the way that our family looked at them as husband and wife.
It takes rainy days and obstacles in order for people to be come stronger and more prepared. It took my parents a horrible wedding day and many fights and arguments to just except the fact that there will be tests in life to show you how strong you are, and how strong you become.So when there’s a rainy day be happy be because that means some strengths and things to learn from coming with them.
On the way home from school my mother m calls me on my cell phone saying “take you and your sister to uncle Mopey’s I’ll pick y’all up from there.” I thought to ask more questions because my mom toned sounded as if she was in some serious trouble that she felt obligated to discuss when she picks us up. So I left it at that and told my sisters the news. My sister and I waited for my mom at our uncles.
When you go to my uncle house it gives off a 80’s soulful look. He lives in an old pretzel factory, that he decide was best to fix up and turn into a house. Even thou the green paint is chipping and the grass was as high as a cornfield, the inside of his house was beautiful. He has these glass mirrors that have glass within the glass that makes up an unique pattered Steps with columns to follow up them and two big columns that is at the end. His couch is a nice big golden couch that it looks as if he robbed it from queen Elizabeth herself. In his dinning area is a long supper table with different cakes and cookies for people to come in and snack on, and right behind that lies an old piano me and my sister joke saying that its so old that Beethoven played on it. As you walk down the long table it leads you to two glass doors. On the doors says Ralph Lauren, behind the door lays a small kitchen area where pots dangling over top of the counter and chips and food feast on the counters.
While waiting my sister and I was jamming to some old school music. I started dancing doing the tootsie roll and cabbage patch. Then she tried to top me by doing the running man and robot. When the radio started playing Pattie Labelle, Gerald Lervert, and Luther Vandross, that's When we really started jamming by lip singing to their songs.
After spending a few hours in my uncle home jamming to old school music,my mom finally arrived. She showed up in my god mom small green car. She came in the house got my sister and I and then talked to my uncle for a few minuets. When my mom came in the car that’s when she was attacked with 21 questions. We started asking why she had god mom Jackie car, where was god mom Jackie, did she see the baby with out us, and by the look in my mom eye I can tell she had enough. She told us to sit back and shut up. The short 5 minuet car ride became a long 5 hour car ride because questions wasn’t being answered.When we arrived at the house my mother quickly told my sister and I to have a seat. I can hear it in her voice the news was bad so I stood up just so I can prepare for the worst. That's when the words started fighting with her closed lips to give us the news that our god mom Jackie had passed. Those words came shooting at me and pierced me right through the heart. My eyelids was fighting back the tears. My brain couldn't tell what was real and was fake. Next thing I know our dinner room have became flooded with water from the tears that our body couldn't stop producing. I was so angry so upset that the wall has became an innocent victim of crossfire as my fist blistered into the white wall knocking it sheet rocks into pieces.
Each person deals with hard situations differently. Growing up, you could say, I had things pretty easy. My family was great and they loved me, I had friends who were nice to me and I didn’t have a care in the world. So when a hard situation came my way I didn’t know how to handle it or what to do with the new found information. That’s probably why I reacted the way I did.
“I've got to get this fish tank set up before my fishy dies” I thought and mumbled to myself as I ran up my basement stairs into my living room. I tripped on the last step almost dropping the tank. As I fumbled around trying to straighten up my eight year old clumsy body I could her my mother sobbing on the porch. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked up at the glass door with the screen pulled down. The door was closed and I knew it had to be important. Something had to be seriously wrong and I couldn’t figure out what it could be. Then I remembered that Grammy hadn’t been feeling well. But why would mom be crying, it’s just a cold, I always get those in winter and mommy never cries. I looked around the room after deciding it had to be something else.
My mom crying so hard probably should have been the first signal to me that something wasn’t quite right and something sad was heading my way. Normally she never really let us see her cry, not like that anyways.
“I heard mom crying downstairs what’s wrong?” I asked my dad, turning around to look at him. His face looked so distraught and heavyhearted. I knew something really had to be wrong now. “Is it something to do with Grammy?” I asked, hoping for a no. “Yes, remember how she has been sick? Well the doctors did some tests and the results came in that she has cancer.” He said, the pain of the matter clear in his voice. I was taken back. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. I mean cancer is something people in movies get. What is cancer anyways? “Oh okay, well let’s put together the fish tank now.” I said. It was much better to stick to what I know. I turned back around and started to plug in the cords in the outlets.
After our teamwork to set up the tank was finished and my fish was safe in its new colorful home the information I had learned hit me. “Is Grammy going to die daddy?” I asked, with a sense of panic added into my voice. “We don’t know but its not looking good.” My dad answered. “Ok, is mommy going to be ok?” I asked already knowing the answer. “Well She will be upset, it is her mom.” My dad answered I could tell he was starting to feel uncomfortable so I stopped asking questions. I guess I was just going to have to wait and see.
After that I guess you could say I didn’t handle the situation well. Okay, maybe more like I didn’t handle it at all. I always asked my mom what was going on and how my Grammy was feeling. But as far as the realization of the situation actually settling in, it never really did. We got to spend that summer and three more after that with her.
I remember rolling out of bed already running late for school. I grabbed my towel and swung my door open. As I walked down the hallway headed for my nice hot shower, I saw my dad sitting on my parent’s bed. He looked over at me and called me over. “Yeah what’s up dad? Why aren’t you at work?” I asked him. “Grammys gone to a better place now Rose” He said choking up as he mumbled the words to me. “Oh, ok” I said as he hugged me. After he finished trying to see if I was ok or not, I went to take my shower. The news still didn’t hit me until I sat at my desk at school and I had time to think. Right away the tears started falling down my face. I couldn’t get them to stop.
After that morning, I would randomly just start to cry not knowing what started it or how to stop. At home I would flip out at my mom, because somehow, it was her fault that I felt like this, that I couldn’t remember my Grammy’s voice, or that my heart hurts. Sometimes I thought I was ok and sometimes I knew I wasn’t. But then I started to think about what I could get out of what had happened. I learned how life is short and you have to take control of your life and make your own choices. You don’t have a right to complain about the consequences if it’s the result of the decision you have made. I never once heard my Grammy complain about her cancer and she complained about things a lot. She knew that she got lung cancer because she smoked and it was a consequence to a choice she had made in her life. That’s not the only thing I learned throughout her battle. I also learned from her mistakes. My Grammy was shy and didn’t want to bug people. I’m a lot like that too. I won’t talk to people unless they talk to me because I’m worried I’m bugging them. So even when she got sick she didn’t call people or reach out to people even though it could be her last chance. I know in the end she regretted loosing the relationships she did because she was to shy. From that mistake she made I know try to reach out to people instead of needing to be reached out to. But the greatest lesson I learned was that everyone handles these kinds of situations differently and no one ever gets it right. Everyone in my family handled what happened in a different way and each one of us figured out that how we did handle it wasn’t the best way.
By: Maria Latorre
There we were standing ready to lift off the airport. I looked back one more time to say bye to the state I was born in, “bye Venezuela.” We lifted off, the flight was long and it was so high to a person that was three feet. It was also very fun after four hours. We had landed on a strange land that I had never seen before. There where so many people all of them were bigger then me but then I saw him I was very happy. My dad was waiting for us to get here. I was so happy but I was really tired that the moment I got in the car after walking from the ice-cold airport, I fell asleep faster than you can say I love you.
It was winter for me. Where I had come from I never felt this cold because it was nice, worm, or very hot. At the same time it was almost my birthday by the time I got to America. I got a lot of presents. One of the present was a stuffed animal named storm. She was a black stuffed dog with brown eyes. I always love animals so I was very happy to have gotten this one. A month later it was really winter and little ice-cold things stared falling from the sky, Americans call it snow. I knew that part but I never saw it fall on the main lands, I only would see it on mountains. Then Christmas came and I got more presents. I loved it. I got so many things that I can’t name them all.
The seasons flew and it was summer. No more Ice, no more deadly cold weather, and no more heavy clothing. Now there’s nice hot air I can go swimming, but this summer was different. I played tennis that’s where I met a good and dear friend. It was really funny how we met because when we were playing she hit the ball too hard and it smacked me on the middle of my face. She ran to me and asked me if I was ok and that is how we started talking.
Now it’s time for school. I didn’t want to go I was too scared. I would ask myself, “What if the others think I’m weird because I don’t know English?” What if they hate me? I don’t want to go I want to be with my family. The moment my dad took me to school and we entered the big halls that had not a single sound and it was very dark too, I started to cry, “Papi yo no quiero estar aquí no mi dejes.” I would say that every day until I had gotten use to school in America. I also met Mrs. Rosemary she was very nice and she would take care of me from the beginning of the day to the end of the day. My homeroom teacher was also nice to me and she would talk really slow so I could understand what she was talking about. I got used to coming to school that I forgot about the time and as a blink of and eye the school year was over.
The next school year they made me repeat because I was too young to go to first grade. The good thing about that was I meet her again, the girl that hit the ball so hard that it went flying into my face. We were always together, we became more than friends we were family. However sometime she would be hard to deal with. We would get into fights a lot. Being friends with her was like an emotional rollercoaster ride. I would always take in every single emotion she had so that she wouldn’t burst out on anyone. She would get mad a lot but I was the one that would cure her anger and I was ok with it. Another thing I would do for her is make her happy and take care of her when she’s sad. She would always come crying to me. I had become her mother, but I wasn’t only her mother I’m a mother for all of my friends too. I would act like their mother because I care for them a lot.
I’m in the second grade and we are all happy together have more fun then before. It was gym when I got into a school run. It was really fun we had to run and win the race in the end we won. That was so cool for me because I was there and helped my team to win.
Many years had past and its finally my 8th grade year. It was our last year together and we were all sad but we had a lot of fun. This year was different I was able to tell my sister (better known as my first friend) that she was hurting me a lot. Mainly emotionally because I was tired of taking her anger, which was always full force. She then said that she was very sorry and that she would try to change. After that we played a lot, went to the mall, the parks, on trips, and many other place. We are about to go to high school, graduation is tomorrow. As I was sleeping I had a dream that we would never leave but then I woke up and reality hits me in the face like an ice cold water fell from the sky.
Now I graduated from my middle school and we all want our different ways. The begging of a new school year started and I had made new friends. SLA was like another home to me it was very fun. I would always smile with my new friends. Even when we would get into a lot of fights, but the fight always ended with both side smiling happily at each other. I still had my other friend in my heart. We would meet time to time. Just so our friendship stayed together. The school year past very fast too, so soon that the next school year had already started.
I’m a sophomore its fun so far and I’m trying new things. Having friend and meeting new people is the best time for me. This school year will be very fun I just know it. All of my experiences are like a bumpy car ride but here I am, still going and really for any big bumps my car will have to go though. That makes these unforgettable memories.
“Why do I have to do this?” It was all I could think about while I continued my 7th grade project. It touched on all the things that I had always tried to avoid. I had to describe myself. When asked to describe myself as a simple beginning of the year question I have always kept my answers short, simple, uncreative and each time the answer was generally identical. It was the thing I hated most in the world. Why? Maybe I didn’t understand myself. But to be given a whole project on that subject alone, it felt like my stomach had just done a somersault. So I just sat there, thinking, who am I?
What is he touching me for? I hate it when people touch me to wake me up. Maybe I should keep my eyes closed & he’ll leave. “Abou, get up. You guys have to clean the room.” He wasn’t going to leave. I arose from my bed and greeted the broom with a tight grip around the neck and jerked it around all the way back to the room. When i arrived back at my room it had became a crime scene investigation. Searching every little quarter inch of the room for dust. “Abou, throw this away” Oh no. its starting, the constant back & forth from throwing everything away. And also the “Professional” cleaners want to move my bed so it covers the door. Now I’ll have to go the long way through the bathroom.
I never understood why we didn’t either bring the trash can in the room, or just collected the trash until we were done. But oh well. This is probably why I don’t mind working out now because it was a constant stream of running back and forth through the bathroom to throw every little threat to the vacuum cleaner away. If we throw away everything instead of using the vacuum to suck it up then why do we have one. Because only the finest dirt makes it to our vacuum. “Abou, here.”. As it continues. My over-thinking of the situation is making things even more stressful. Then I glance up & see the painting. A hazy sun lightly glazed over the salty waters of a boating dock. Everyone is pulling there boat in. The most calm part of the day... the end.
It was a saturday night. I had plans for once. Not because I wasnt social but since I’ve been let down many of times so I’ve learned that my family isnt the richest. So after understanding this I’ve learned to only ask to go out every once in a while to insure that my dad had money to give me and he wouldn’t say “No Abou, your always going out.”. This time it was perfect. I knew my dad had money because he just got paid, and I had enough money to be ok on my own. I called my friend one more time to confirm. I got dressed in my brand new jeans and my favorite American Eagle v-neck. Only thing left to do was tell my parents.
I walked into their room to find that they were also getting dressed. “Uhh .. where are you guys going?” I asked.
“Oh we were going to a show, why? My dad answered.
“Well because I wanted to go-”
“Sorry, you got to stay and watch your brother.” I didn’t even ask the question yet. I nodded and did a sharp turn and left out the door. When I got back to my room I had a blank look and observed the child that needed so much attention. He did nothing. I saw no reason to stay behind to monitor a 14 year old young teen. All he did was Play video games and get on the computer. Maybe he could’ve downloaded a bomb, or unlocked the special burn down your house cheat on the game. Really its probably just one of my parents’ schemes to cage my social life.
My scenes describe various times that I was being taught values. In the first scene when I was woken up early to clean my room I was being taught multiple things. By waking me up early I was taught to not waste time and that when you finish tasks early you have the rest of the day to yourself. Traditionally, the early bird gets the worm. I might have misinterpreted the point of cleaning a room that will never be clean. I always thought that there was no point in doing certain things if there will be no one to see it. Things like dressing your best and cleaning other things. I saw it as an indirect lesson. The point being that you don’t maintain yourself for other people, you keep things nice because you like it nice.
My second scene describes a time that I was taught about different responsibilities. During the actual time period I felt that this was an unfair task being that I felt that my brother was old enough to watch himself. I now understand that it was teaching me to be responsible. I was entrusted to handle certain problems as such. My brother’s allergies get triggered, the electric went out, or if there was a fire I was responsible for getting my brother and myself out safely. The main idea in my scenes is that certain responsibilities as a young teen can further impact your life once you understand the values incorporated.
One of the things that I’m best at is doing something through tiredness. One time when I got home from hockey practice, with the familiar feeling of being tired to the bone, knowing that everything will soon become a challenge.
I opened the door, fighting my primal instincts in order to keep my eyes open. I stumble as I try to fit the cumbersome bag through the rather petite doorway. Not for the first time, I throw my bag down, with full knowledge that I will have to move it later, as I all ways do when I get home from hockey. My throat is dry, as dry as someones in the Sahara desert in a drought, in the summer, if they were excercising. I try to coax the motor skills back into my limbs, but they simply refuse to return. I realize that getting to the kitchen will be harder than I thought.
I slip through the doorway, and see my brother, Matthew, in his usual position. He is lying on the couch, no doubt because he is “hurt”. I know that I will have to relinquish my hold on the TV remote for yet another night. My mind shifts back towards the need for water, and I continue my long trek towards the kitchen.
I encounter my first obstacle. Blocking my path is an abomination of steel and wood, with some type of mesh supports. It blocks my path, but I’m in a stubborn mood. I squeeze in my stomach, and try to slip by this strange contraption. My stomach compresses, and I’m able to slip by the side of the machine. As soon as I am free of the deadly embrace of the wall and the contraption, I turn towards it and see the paddle sitting on it. This does not strike me as odd, because the ping pong paddle is sitting on the table that it was named for.
I encounter the second obstacle, a gruesome man made structure used for eating which has been place precariously close the entrance to the door. I don’t feel like having another encounter with the wall, so instead of sneaking by it, I decide to do the obviously smart thing. I give myself some room, and try to make the jump onto the table. My motor skills where still returning, so I slipped and barely recovered in time. I stop inches from the wall, and look back at the dining room table in triumph.
I encounter the last obstacle, the strange box which is weaved out of some type of straw. I push it out of the way, and my shirt gets caught. It tears, but I am to tired to recognize it at the moment. I walk over to the fridge and start to drink that clear sweet nectar to soothe my throat.As you can see, I’ll always try my best at something, even if it is slightly ridiculous. But through this ridiculousness I feel great because I know that no one can say anything bad about me, and if they do, I can just say that I did my best. You can also see how I can push myself. After hockey practice I am all ways tired, and even small things become challenges. Overcoming these challenges is part of what makes us all atheletes.
It all started when I was graduating from middle school. Everyone else was excited but I was nervous as hell. I am a very shy person and when walking into a room without knowing anybody is a hell zone for people with personalities like me. This is how I became a student today here at SLA. As I come in through the door after walking home from school with a huge fever. Sweat is running down my face. I feel like there is a volcano exploding in my head. As I run upstairs to go to sleep. I realized I left my phone downstairs. I was waiting for a call from SLA to see if I would get admitted or not and I waited everyday near my phone for two weeks. But I was really tired from the fever. It was spreading as quick as a wildfire. I just decided just to leave it because I had lost all hope of getting that call or even getting in. I woke up from my nap still lightheaded from the fever. I felt I was walking on clouds as I walked downstairs to watch TV. I grab my cell phone to check if I had any text messages. I opened my phone and it said I had a missed call. All a sudden my heart was beating really fast and the room started spinning. I wondered was this was call I was waiting for. I called the number back and a lady answered the phone asking do I still want to come to SLA. I was in shock. I didn’t know what to say but then I snapped back to reality. I said yes. She told me to come in to take a placement test then hung up. I just stared at my phone confused. I wondered if I got in or not because she just told me to come in to take a test so I didn’t know if that was a definite yes or not. Then I finally grabbed my phone and ran upstairs with my heart beating so fast. I called my counselor who was trying to help me get into SLA at that time. I waited for her to pick up. She picked up and I told her what happened. She told me I got in. I started screaming and shouting and called everyone in my phonebook. I knew all that hard work has finally paid off as I ran upstairs. I felt like Rocky running up those stairs to go on face book to announce I finally got in to SLA.
After waiting for a couple of weeks because I knew summer institute had started. I got out my dad car and I walked towards the door of SLA. I walked very slowly because I knew it was going to an awkward horrible day. I couldn’t find the door to the school. I only went there once. I was to scare to remember anything. I ran out of there as fast as I could. I walked in the door with the heaviest heart because I knew this was a hell zone for shy kids like me. I got handed a paper and was told to take a seat I turn around to see a sea of chairs and kids looking either angry or bored. I take a seat as quickly as I could. I had to wait there half an hour and a played with the piece of paper like I was given the best game in the world to play with. They told us to head up to the rooms we were assigned to. I walked up those stairs my feet felt like cinder blocks weighing a hundred pounds each. I knew something bad was going to happen. Then I realized I was I was lost. I didn’t know where the second floor was. I had to ask some random stranger looking at me like I was the dumbest person in the world because they pointed to the sign on the door the said the second floor.I ran down because I did not want to see the person face that helped me. I walked into the class and new faces stared at me with a “what are you doing here” expression. I took my seat as quickly as I could and I had never had been so embarrassed in my life. I sat there wondering if the day could get any worse. I sat there with all these unknown faces looking at me with a pissed off face.
I felt so little compared to all these kids and I was little enough already. I can feel sweat building up in my body because I was so nervous. The teacher had us all introduce ourselves and my voice was like a mouse barely squeaking because no one could hear me. My throat closes up when I get really nervous so there was no way I could talk any louder. We had to play games. I was ready to cry cause my shyness was overcoming me so much that I could barely move from my seat. I wonder how everyone faces looked so calm. I played the game but I tried to not volunteer as much as possible. But the teacher kept picking on me. I was so close to throwing my shoe at him because he can obviously see that I was shy. But when we had to go on our expedition it was really fun because I met some new potential friends. We went to Logan Square. It was really hot that day so the water was cooling us down but all of us had no idea to do. We just walked around the fountain what felt like hundreds to times. Then it was all pretty much boring after that. But towards the end of that day I broke out my shy shell and made really good friends till this day. I found out a lot about myself a lot that day. I knew I could make friends easily if I just was myself. Though my day was a ton of embarrassing moments there were still a handful of good moments to. Even though I hate being embarrassed in the end it always take me to good places and learn new lessons.
The word “embarrassing” is what I can honestly say is the most used and known word in my life. Embarrassing things happen a lot to me. I can’t help it when a situation gets too much for me and then I can’t stand the fact anymore. Sometimes I get put into situations that I can’t handle. When things get really bad it becomes a hell zone for shy and easily embarrassed people like me. Some people can handle embarrassment easily and shake it off like it never happened. For other people that moment keeps replaying over and over again in their head. It never stops and they will never forget it. They fear that people will never forget and look at them differently. Embarrassment can be your best friend and worst enemy. From my own experience it is my worst enemy but also my best friend cause always in the end they bring me to good places.