Tuesday, May 29, 2012
chuck
I presented awards for the English dept. at Skyline's senior awards ceremony tonight. We had 150 students receiving awards. The auditorium was barely a quarter full. So many of these seniors came and received awards without a single family member or close friend to support them. One young lady who I nominated told me earlier today that she wasn't planning on attending cuz no one from her family was going to be there. I convinced her otherwise. Her classmates and definitely I would be there to cheer her on. I'm so proud of these guys for their achievement, but part of me is sad that they stand alone in recognition. So often we ask what's wrong with the picture of education today. Welcome to one of the symptoms: Who is standing and cheering for these young people when they succeed? Their teachers and classmates are a good start . . . bur it's not enough.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Hard To Explain
I'm a year older, today. The saying is "The Older, The Wiser". With every passing year, we become more aware. With this year comes knowledge that is rather bittersweet. I have simply lived my life, for everyone that i shouldn't have lived for. Now, normally, this would be upsetting and would shatter my mind. But everything lately has just kind of sunk in. I don't harbor any negative emotions, simply because I choose to be happy. I am happy, but I am wiser, and I know who to live a life for.
zen.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Rest In Peace, Henry
Life, Death.
I've never paid the phrase, "...touched the lives of many" any mind. Because we all do touch, and cross the many walks of life on a pretty consistent basis. And I never paid it any mind because it's become so routine. We treat every living soul the same, until we can put a name to a face. This is why it's so hard for us to connect with one another, it's such a chore for us to coexist peacefully, much less be genuinely nice to a complete stranger.
I met Henry, once. We were both sneakerheads. I was camped out in front of 510 Skateboards, in Berkeley, where Henry attended school. I was pretty drunk, we were drinking to keep warm, and I ended up passing out. At three or four or so in the morning, I woke up to a guy walking over and trying to sling some shoes and supreme stuff to the people in line, this was Henry. We talked and talked and talked, and he seemed like a genuinely nice guy, pretty egotistic and somewhat snobby, but still nice. The guys next to us rolled up a blunt and they shared it, and we talked some more. Henry was so high and drunk, he just passed out with all his shit still laid out like he was selling it. Martin and I looked at him and his stuff and joked about just taking it and leaving. We were half-serious, I don't think either of us have it in ourselves to be that cruel ever again, in our lives. Morning came, and Henry woke up in a daze, gave everyone a pound and the deuces, and was off.
I never saw Henry again after that, that is until I saw his face on a Facebook memorial page. He had folded under pressure, he had committed suicide. I'm genuinely sad. He was a good kid, and I know that personally, he didn't deserve that, he didn't deserve that darkness that eats your insides. He deserved a life full of smiles.
Many people scold suicide, but I mourn the tragedy of someone ever having to feel that way. Many will say he died for nothing, but I'll tell them they are wrong. His death taught me the power we hold with every hello, every handshake, every dap, pound, and goodbye.
RIP Henry Treadway (1991-2012)
I've never paid the phrase, "...touched the lives of many" any mind. Because we all do touch, and cross the many walks of life on a pretty consistent basis. And I never paid it any mind because it's become so routine. We treat every living soul the same, until we can put a name to a face. This is why it's so hard for us to connect with one another, it's such a chore for us to coexist peacefully, much less be genuinely nice to a complete stranger.
I met Henry, once. We were both sneakerheads. I was camped out in front of 510 Skateboards, in Berkeley, where Henry attended school. I was pretty drunk, we were drinking to keep warm, and I ended up passing out. At three or four or so in the morning, I woke up to a guy walking over and trying to sling some shoes and supreme stuff to the people in line, this was Henry. We talked and talked and talked, and he seemed like a genuinely nice guy, pretty egotistic and somewhat snobby, but still nice. The guys next to us rolled up a blunt and they shared it, and we talked some more. Henry was so high and drunk, he just passed out with all his shit still laid out like he was selling it. Martin and I looked at him and his stuff and joked about just taking it and leaving. We were half-serious, I don't think either of us have it in ourselves to be that cruel ever again, in our lives. Morning came, and Henry woke up in a daze, gave everyone a pound and the deuces, and was off.
I never saw Henry again after that, that is until I saw his face on a Facebook memorial page. He had folded under pressure, he had committed suicide. I'm genuinely sad. He was a good kid, and I know that personally, he didn't deserve that, he didn't deserve that darkness that eats your insides. He deserved a life full of smiles.
Many people scold suicide, but I mourn the tragedy of someone ever having to feel that way. Many will say he died for nothing, but I'll tell them they are wrong. His death taught me the power we hold with every hello, every handshake, every dap, pound, and goodbye.
RIP Henry Treadway (1991-2012)
Thursday, May 3, 2012
To Be Lost In A Forest
I hate to love. An infectious parasite that's burrowed it's way into my mind and heart. Draining me. I need a reminder on how to love. I need a reminder of who I am, why I do the things I do.
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