NAI'

Hiding information in Plain Sight

I took a set of 2^nd and 3^rd graders to the Newseum yesterday. The Newseum is literally a news museum. The thought of a museum focusing wholly on the news is a concept that encompasses boring in many people’s minds. But the Newseum is far from boring. In the plans, they made certain to create a place that encourages learning and that appeals to all levels of reading and understanding. It is just an awesome place.

While it is a costly museum, the good people there have joined with WTOP 103.5 and the Washington Post, to make this experience free to school aged students in the Washington DC Metro area. Yet, many educators have not utilized the opportunity. Why is it that we do not see the importance or relevance in making certain that our students understand about the freedoms that we are able to exercise in America regarding the press? Why do we keep them ignorant?

When we walked into the museum, one of the workers noticed us – and immediately pointed out how young and orderly the kids were (keep in mind that I spent weeks drilling them on how to behave and threatening them with what would happen if they embarrassed me, themselves, and the school). I thanked her for the compliment and proceeded to give the students and chaperones the instructions and itinerary for the day.

While there, we witnessed school groups of other students behaving like wild monkeys straight out of the wild. One child threw a jacket from the 5^th floor to the concourse level. I shook my head and then began to rant about all that I would do if one of my students EVER considered doing such an asinine thing. But, I didn’t need to because they already had mortified looks on their faces when they saw the jacket go flying. When I say my kids are bad, I always need to remember that they have no clue what bad really is.

So, while everyone was wrapping up in the gift shop, I took a walk. While on the concourse level, I ran into the lady who had greeted us at the beginning of the trip. She began to speak to me and inquire about my students. She asked where we were from, how did I hear about the Neweum, and then expressed that she was so impressed that I was 1. knowledgeable about the Newseum, and 2. interested in bringing a bunch of young black kids to this place.

I say all of this to say, people are watching our young black kids – and placing labels on them before they open their mouths. People don’t often expect much from these children – and often times, our children behave to their expectations. Educators, can I compel you to revert back to the olden days? Let’s teach these kids to have pride in the way they carry themselves, so that they can show the world that they are not victims of their environments, they are simple there for a short stint. 

Precious

Some people just don't get a break. 

In my young, old age, I've become so much more emotional. I think this is the case because I've had the honor and, in many cases, the displeasure of having to deal with young students who just seem to be in bad situations in their lives. Movies like Precious help me remember why I'm so passionate about what I do. When you think your life is bad, be reminded that there is someone out there whose life is worse than yours - and then think about the fact that not all of those people use their situations as a reason to bitch and moan. Instead, they take charge of their lives and make the best of it. 

I would be lying if I said that I didn't cry. Not only did I cry, but I bawled. There were parts that I couldn't watch. It made me greatly appreciative of my life. When I was a teenager, I thought that my life and my situation was worse than anyone else that I knew. I believed that nothing positive would happen for me.  But I soon learned that trials come to make us stronger. No matter how filthy our pasts are, we do not have to be defeated by them. 

I also learned that there is a thing that we don't want to talk about - a thing that ravishes homes and lives. This mental illness that exists or becomes prevalent in lives because of one's circumstance. It's horrible how one person's decisions or lack of decision making can lead to such a horrific set of events. 

This is a story that tells a truth that you don't want to know. This is a movie that speaks frankly to issues that you can't handle. It's not a feel good film. It's not a happily ever after fairy tale. It's simply real life for real. I compel you to go watch! I think I've done a great job of not giving anything away. 

Hold on!

It’s funny how one can get caught into the whirlwinds of life. One chance interaction- for even a small amount of time can send you tail spinning into a semi-charmed kind of life. It can be euphoric, overwhelming, and mysterious at the same time.

I’m getting too fragile for chance interactions. I’m growing weary of dealing with the afterthoughts and ramifications of being in the right place at the wrong time. I’m just kinda tired of it. I’m tired of having to be dissected and only being able to give portions of myself to others. At one time, the pieces used to boomerang back together, but now – they leave and the return is uncertain.

I’m growing resentful of my capacity to love so wholeheartedly – even when the feeling is not reciprocated. I hear the loose bolts and feel the bumps and knockings that exist within. The pain has become strikingly visible to others as I labor to move without pain. The joke of having a baby face has now become the concern of the frown lines and bags that indicate sleeplessness.

The weight remains while the appetite has disappeared. In place of solid food, a liquid diet. Oh, my soul cries out “Bring back the days of yea and nay

When we could plainly see the way -Then it was up to us to choose

Whether to win or to lose -Bring back the times when we could see

What it was we were to be -Caught in the midst of complexity

We search for yea and nay”

I feel like I’m drowning in my thoughts, but with one hand firmly grasping the safety net above. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.

 Anyone, given an opportunity to get lost in their thoughts will eventually drown in them if they don’t find a way to climb out of the deep end. Nights have become unbearable – and days offer their own set of stressors. I have to find a way to break through this…

Funk!

On Living Within Your Own Thoughts

What happens when the thoughts in your head are so clear and pervasive that they consume your being, wanting to be echoed out, but just unable to find the suitable audience to receive them? What happens when the thoughts in your head need to be transferred out of you or even to cemented over with lighter ones, but there are none to be found? What happens when the answers to the questions in your head are so clear, but the solution is so far reaching? What happens when you can’t get out of your head? What happens?

You just live! You live around and even through your thoughts. You live with the thoughts, but you do your best not to internalize them. Because when they are internalized, they kill. You take a deep breath and try to start all over again. You revert back to a better place. You smile and hope that something will become real. You hope, because when all else fails, that’s always there. You do things that are positive – and focus on forgetting about the negatives.

What happens when the thoughts in your head are so clear and pervasive that they seem powerful enough to kill you? You just live!

Learning How to Move On

I cant let go of things - rather, I won't let go of them. Little, insignificant things; trivial things, things that could be innocent, pretty much anything. While, I'm not a touchy-feely person, I need human interaction and conversation. It's my lifeblood. I am one who can handle the truth. I'm one that wants you to tell me about myself. It's almost masochistic how much I want it. My being depends on it. So, when I find out that someone has made a decision to withold something from me that pertains to me, I really get into my feelings.
I should say that one such thing did happen, and what made me so sick was the way that I found out what had been done. Let's just say that I reached out to someone - as is customary for me to do and found out later on that they didn't want me to be able to reach them.

HA! Yup, I felt like a fool. I still do.

When the Smoke Clears - Relationship Talk

Relationships are interesting because, without proper communication, one can think that they are fulfilling all of their lover’s desires when, in fact, they aren’t. That is to say, the things that we think we do to make our significant others happy may bring them joy, but we may not be truly meeting their ultimate desires. You might find yourself in a situation in which your significant other is fiscally irresponsible – and so, you make a decision to bail them out consistently or to simply provide them with a hold over budget. Now, that’s doing a lot – but, for some people, that’s still not enough. In fact, all we are doing is enabling a horrific habit that can lead to true relationship discord in the future.

Have you ever been in a place in which you thought you did everything to make your lover happy – be that, stepping outside of yourself to conform to their way of thinking; supporting them in a career you didn’t believe they could be successful in (ex: my ex telling me that he’s trying to be a music exec or a music artist, so he won’t get another job because he won’t be able to focus…sorry, I digressed), or even disregarding the advice of thinking friends and family members to be with this person because they make you feel good? When all the smoke clears, and they are no longer a part of your life, do you then begin to look at the tell tale signs?

I thought I did everything in my power to make my ex happy. But, I found out later on that I didn’t. To me, sleepless nights, constant encouragement, and fiscal responsibility was what I thought was needed – and they were. But, what I didn’t do was what made it end. The failure to just say, “ I appreciate and love you” multiple times a day. What’s crazy is that, for an “I love you” some people will give up everything else that you are giving. It’s an important lesson to learn.

Sometimes, we need to let people know that we love them before it’s too late. But, we also need to know when we’ve done too much and the relationship’s end is the best thing.

“There was a time when I was your everything – and everyone else was nothing! Now I’m nothing to you. However, I now realize that it’s not me, but you, who has lost EVERTHING.”

 

When Great Teachers feel Unappreciated

I’ve spent the last month or so praying and crying – but mostly crying. I think this is happening because I finally “let go” and tried to be a shining light in a dark and dingy tunnel. In the past few years, like most Adventist educators, I’ve taken from my own personal reserves to have resources in my classroom. I love my kids – even when I hate them, and I want so badly for them to succeed. And, in doing so, I’ve been hard on them because I know that, only the strongest survive in our world. I see their potential and I try to do everything in my power to nurture it. But, I’m beginning to believe that my time is being wasted on people who are quite content with mediocre education in exchange for excessive ego stroking. I’m dealing with parents who are too cowardly to face teachers, but are more than willing to exercise arm wrestling tactics with a weak administration – parents who use taunts and assaults as a means of creating an environment in which their children can feel comfortable about their parents’ wishes for them to be suckled. And, even when they get their wishes, refuse to stop until they have managed to reach for the jugular. And, we wonder why the great ones leave.

After years of bending over backwards to create a system in which I made myself overly accessible to parents and overly accommodating of my students, I was given the word that parents complained that I am mean and unapproachable. To add insult to injury, they went on to explain that the FACT that the students love me is actually a myth – and, in fact, they too are afraid of me. We’re talking about the same kids that I exercised leniency with, the ones I took outside every day, prayed for on a regular basis, and that I encouraged. Those kids – the ones that came from alleged horrible years prior and that I took to Jamestown and Yorktown, Virginia and watched as they behaved like animals on the bus in the presence of their parents and then, as if I didn’t learn my lesson, I turned around and took to Historic Philadelphia where I then raised enough money to take them to a wonderful museum. I guess I just didn’t do enough. Yup, I’m talking about the kids that I sat at school until 6pm every day and helped with homework assignments until their parents came to pick them up – those same kids that I allowed to receive credit for missing homework when my policy clearly states that “I DON’T ACCEPT LATE HOMEWORK”. Those kids! The ones I didn’t even give a lot of homework too; the kids I taught. The kids I fought for. THOSE KIDS! Yup, their scared of me and I’m unapproachable. Me? Yes, me! The teacher that responds to email within a couple hours of receiving it – EVEN WHEN THEY SEND IT TO ME AT 12am. Yup, I’m unapproachable.

It just makes you want to throw your hands up and say two words – one that begins with an expletive and the other one simply, “it”. What more can I do to make them see that I’ve done EVERYTHING a teacher can do? So, we won’t complain about the academics, but now we decide to attack my character? I just wonder how much lower a parent can go? One thing I can say is that when I was in the public school, the parents didn’t care either way. Now, I’m dealing with parents who stick around only to manipulate teachers.

I have a dream for black young people. It stems from my mom’s constant push for us to be the best, recognizing that the world won’t give us breaks. I believe that our children are the best – and I push them to see that in themselves. But, I’m finally realizing that perhaps, I’m better suited for a place where parents understand what it takes to give their children a fighting chance. I respect a person that will say it to my face, but I’ll NEVER respect a parent who uses words and administration to cut down a teacher, but can’t have the BALLS to come to me. You say that I’m unapproachable? I say that you are nothing but a coward who chooses to hide behind a principal who will protect your identity. I hate punks!

Michael Jackson - The Ugly

It’s time for reality! Let me say that I loved Michael Jackson. I was one of the ones that felt that he was tormented – and, I understood his eccentricities. When I watched him, I saw a child that was screwed up by his money hungry father and docile mother. I always question how a truly loving mother would allow their children to be put through such psychologically damaging situations. But, I then understand that some women take a back seat and allow their man to be the “ruler” of the home. In the end, it’s not a surprise that so many of the

Jackson

clan members are screwed up. Unfortunately, Michael seemed to be damaged the worst.  I never believed the allegations about Michael molesting those boys – but, I wasn’t there. What I can speak on, is his unwillingness to be truthful, even in instances that were very obvious – like, how he went from being black to being powder.

 

Last night, Dateline replayed the interview between Michael and Martin Bashir. As I watched it, I couldn’t help but note the lies that he, so blatantly, told. The first question of note was that of his skin color change. To that question, he stated that it was all “ridiculous”. He then went on to say that people of the other complexion would go outside and get tans, but no one said anything about that. For him to actually believe that what he was saying was logical, truly disturbed me. In the same vein, he was asked about the changing of his facial shape, the cleft chin, the enlargement of lips, the eyebrows, etc. To all of those, he responded that it was puberty and growing up. He maintained that this was true even when Bashir reminded him that these changes came after the years of puberty. Still, Michael stated that it was puberty. As I re-watched, I became increasingly agitated. I then remembered why I didn’t want to remember that interview.

 

Then came the stuff about the kids. Bashir asked about the paternity and conception of the kids. Michael stated that the first two were “gifts” – that Debbie Rowe said, “You need to be a father” and had the kids for him. When asked about the other child, he first stated that she was a surrogate. Bashir asked him if he’d had a relationship with her and Michael said that he did. He then stated that ALL three of those children had his sperm and that the mother of the last child was a black woman. When asked about the complexions, he pointed to Joe Jackson’s eyes and side of the family. Later, when asked about the children again, he stated that the he did not know the mother of that child and that she was just a surrogate. But, when you look at those kids, you knew that they ARE NOT HIS! How mentally ill must you be to believe that you can go from being black to white, with total facial feature changes, and then have children who look pure white – when, not one of your own siblings resembles anyone white. It was sad.

 

Fast forward to today – revealed that neither Michael nor Debbie Rowe are the biological parents of those children, and NONE of the children are Michael’s. Worse than that, he didn’t even adopt ANY of them because he felt that no one would ever battle him for custody. So, now, three kids hang in the balance and no one knows who their biological parents are.

 

I don’t know what is more crazy, but while I choose to remember the great about Michael, things like this keep people from being able to see him as a reputable individual. His personal life and privileged decisions are direct factors in the determination of what will happen with three innocent kids. And, it wont be until they grow up that we’ll probably ever have the opportunity to know the real truth about Michael.