It's about 1 a.m. and after a long day and a much needed talk with my sister, I feel it neccesary to revisit my blog. I think it's time to address some issues I've been dealing with. I've failed to deal with these issues when they occurred, and I have failed to this date in coping with these issues. I'm a pretty blunt person so I'll just air it out. I'm Josh Wilks, and I'm dealing with depression and anxiety. As I speak this ordeal into existence, it already relinquishes weight I have been carrying literally my entire livelihood. From being the innocent child belonging to the streets of Englewood in Chicago to the young man holding his Associate's degree writing on his MacBook to detail, in extent, the worry of his existence.
When people throw around the word depression, instantly, suicidal becomes paired with it, almost as if the two are interchangeable. I mean, most of the symptoms that plague people with depression are what leads most people to ponder suicide. Hell, having suicidal thoughts is a symptom of depression. See, depression is a taboo subject within our society, especially within African-American male circles. Depression represents weakness, inferiority, subservience, pessimism. And for a man, who is supposed to be the dominant, powerful, leader, it is a silent killer. Why? Because it almost never gets spoken into existence. Being a man dealing with the restraints of being depressed dilutes you from the group. Natural selection, survival of the fittest takes place. Men aren't always the best when it comes to empathy but come tops to judgement and ostracizing. That is why I believe most men never speak of their depression. Well, that is surely why I haven't spoke on mine, until now. I need to release.
My issues of self practically started when I was young. I wasn't the most athletic, nor the best looking, well-off, etc, etc. And people definitely let me know it too. Sometimes when pickup games went on in the gym or on the block, I often didn't get picked. I have many memories sitting in the bleachers or on the concrete wanting to play ball, football or whatever. I remember looking at the sheets girls made to rate guys in the class and I was consistently a 3 or 4. I remember being picked on because my shoes or clothes weren't brand name. I remember being called big lip because of the Wilks family trademark big bottom lip. I got picked on and bullied everyday in grammar school and I spent many nights crying to my mom about the new slurs or gestures that would be made at me. You couldn't tell kids that my mom was unemployed or that I had to microwave a mixing bowl of water so me and my sister can wash up before school or that anything we ate during that time had to be cooked in a toaster oven. How can kids know that my mom tried everything inside her constantly to make sure we never starved or froze to death or were homeless. I couldn't imagine owning a pair of Air Force 1's or Jordan's at the time, it was out the question. There were times when I couldn't get a haircut so my hair was resembling every black actor on Roots. When I transferred schools in seventh grade, things got really worse. I got threatened to get beat up just because the kids at my school smelled weakness in me. And often those threats were made reality as I had to hide many bruises coming home from school because I got my ass beat in the bathroom or in the art room, wherever. Just to get people in my favor, I would do people's homework sometimes, let them cheat off my paper in class, let them have something they wanted off my lunch trey even though there were days there wasn't much to eat at home, and even gave them the change my sisters or mom would give so me and my little sister could buy candy or chips at the corner store. I did all this because I was afraid to say no, because if I said that, I believed the crap situation I was in could get worse. I didn't want to imagine how worse it could get. I have to say the lowest I have been is when a girl I naturally liked and crushed on started dating me out of the blue in eighth grade. I was hesitant at first, very skeptical of her true intentions as to why she could have struck an interest in me all of a sudden when she couldn't notice me before. But, of course, I eventually got full of myself and let it run its course. Just when I think a good thing has happened, I found out she dated me because someone bet her five dollars to date me for two weeks. After she told me what was up and we stopped doing whatever we were doing, she started spreading all kinds of miserable things about me and let's just say had I got hit by a bus at this time I wouldn't even question why it was my time to go. I was ready to get the hell out of grammar school.
One thing I had going for me, or at least I thought I had going for me, was intelligence. I often got good grades in school, being on honor roll, winning science fairs, spelling bees and more. I never thought too much about these things but my family always told me about my potential and how I was meant to do great things. That I was special. And I believed it. I needed something to keep me afloat so I didn't drown in negativity. Seeking a change, I decided to enroll at Whitney Young, a top magnet school in Chicago to seek a new fortune, but most importantly, start over as a person. I remember back in an old piece I wrote just before I graduated, when I said going to Whitney Young was one of the best experiences of my life. I only gave a half-truth. It presented me with many of the toughest moments of my life.
I felt that being in a high school full of intellectuals like me would benefit me to a high extreme. I would be able to meet people who didn't care that I wasn't wearing designer clothes or shoes, call me Arthur because I wore glasses or call me big lip or anything else I had to endure before. I thought my transition to being a teenager would be the end of my adolescent misery. But, truthfully, it was the beginning of a new saga of trials. From the jump, I had trouble fitting in with my new classmates because even though there were many people who were smart just like me, there still existed hierachies when it came to social status. I don't think I was ever going to escape that. I went to school with people who's parents were lawyers, business owners, politicians, engineers and other high, honorable mentions. My mother hadn't gotten her bachelor's degree yet. The wealth gap was more evident than most, as lots of kids came from good neighborhoods, got cars as soon as they got their license and went to travel to other cities and countries in the summer. If you couldn't make an inference on your own, I'm sure you could put me in whatever group was outside of cool or well-liked. Some of my issues from grammar school carried over into high school. I still dealt with issues of insecurity and envy as I spent most of my first two years wishing I was as privileged, secure or even as happy as most of my classmates. After a few months of going through the rigorous curriculum WY presented, I felt that I wasn't so special as my family and teachers told me. My grades were mediocre compared to kids who were taking classes as underclassmen in upperclassmen courses. I remember many times not being able to relate to any of the guys when they were talking about the parties they went to, the girls they were messing with or their excursions from last night or the weekend. My feelings of being an outsider got pushed to the extreme. My upperclassmen days weren't any more pleasant. I spent most of my time sitting on the bench on the football team, getting my ass beat going home, getting robbed multiple times and bouncing from place to place because of instability at home. If there was any a time I felt different, it was my last few years in the city. I had to give people a facade that I was ok and that my life was going in a good direction when I was actually in some of the lowest moments I have ever experienced. There was one time I was taking a train home from school and I got off on my usual stop, 69th street on the red line. Instead of going west towards my home, I sat down and held my head against the glass that encases the station doing and thinking about absolutely nothing. I felt exhausted, defeated. I was tired.
Eventually, my time in Chicago had run its course and I decided a change of scenery was due for me. I moved down to Champaign-Urbana where I would hope leave the turmoil from my past behind as I was sure to experience better things, in a smaller, quiet setting. I started myself off in junior college and got myself a job to coincide. Things were looking up for me. But, I once again let myself down. During my two years spent down here, while I did experience my best years yet academically, getting a 3.9 GPA through four semesters of college, I personally managed to fall within some deep dwells in efforts to cope without a sense of self. Time to get a little artsy.
Envy. Everyday, I yearned to be able to do what my other classmates were doing while away at school. Socializing, relaxing, enjoying life, taking advantage of everything their current opportunity presented them. There were times where getting on social media frustrated me because my life was no where near comparable.
Depreciation. I spent all of my time either working, studying or sleeping. There was nothing in between. There were days I would get up and go to school, immediately go to work, get off work late and try to do an assignment that is due in about a half an hour and then possibly sleep for three hours if time allowed. Now repeat that for two years until May 8th and you have my daily routine. There were times where I was grinding so hard that eventually my sleep schedule was nonexistent and my nerves were off-whack. Fatigue set in at times where I needed focus the most. My worst battles were during night time trying to go to sleep. This is when my anxiety kicked in. I would say it was an accomplishment to get anywhere close to the six to eight hours doctors say you should sleep every night. Days when I didn't have anything to do, I ended up wasting, sleeping close to 13 hours and past 1:00pm. Most nights I got only a few hours, more than often I was waking up after every quarter hour or so because so many things weighed heavily on me. Instead of laying my head down to begin my circadian rhythm, I found myself walking/pacing through my home in a senseless manner, sometimes talking to myself. When I wasn't doing that, I was probably just sitting in my bed just staring at the wall. Or I could have been experiencing one of many panic attacks I have where I think my heart just stops out of nowhere or I feel my chest tensing up or such. Funny things about this, I definitely was not feeling this physically. My mind was playing tricks on me that I am on the verge of dying. And it terrified me.
Loneliness, exclusion, seclusion. I'm not truly alone down here. I stay with my sister and her husband in their home in the countryside of town. No too far is another older sister and my nephew within town. I have plenty of classmates who attend the University of Illinois just a couple minutes away from home. However, my isolation from everything couldn't be more stronger. I spent lots of days walking around campus on my own just in observation. Any time I wasn't in class in Parkland, I was studying or napping in the lounge chairs a little walk from the checkout desk in the library. When at home, I spent most of my time locked in my room wasting my time on my computer or phone. I didn't spend so much time alone because I couldn't get along with anyone or because I didn't know anyone. I love my sisters, nephew and brother in law. Family will always be family. I have a nice personal relationship with many people at work and once in a blue moon I'd agree to go out on an excursion with the crew. At school, I got acquainted with many people who were on the same journey as me. People who thought just like I did, had similar life experiences and were pretty genuine. I just preferred to be on my own because I just could not develop a connection with anyone strong enough to break the chains I placed on myself. I was afraid to show people who I really was or that if people knew some of the issues I was going through or held me back, I wouldn't be accepted. It didn't help that most of the people I kept around me were so much older than me. That barrier was just too big for me to jump. While I may have some life experiences that have shaped me, I didn't quite share theirs or have the credibility they have built. A lasting memory I have from my time down here comes from the latest Unofficial that went down. After work, my coworkers and I decided to go out on the town. I got rejected from every bar we went to because I was too young and I ended up on campus by myself just lingering around. I decided to try and meet up with some old classmates to see what they were up to. While trying to meet up with them was a failure, I ended up putting myself in a bad situation. I came across a scene where a drunk student had gotten beat up and robbed and I was the obvious oddball around everyone else on campus that day. I got approached and questioned by cops. It didn't help that I carried an expired ID with me. Somehow, I got out of the situation. During that extremely cold evening, I walked a couple miles to the Amtrak station and called a cab to take me home.
If you've made it this far through my essay, you now have an idea of the context and extent to where my issues lie. I know that most seem pretty petty or whiny, but through the mind of a young boy who never had a hard constitution, it was the equivalent of the big bad wolf destroying his straw house. While you can say that over time I should have gotten over these things, as most are simply juvenile encounters, they managed to stay with me all the way into my early twenties. How? Well, instead of talking these issues out or slowing releasing these tumultuous events from my hands, I threw them onto the sled with all my other baggage I never fully addressed and carried them with me through life. Such an unhealthy way to go, but it was the only way I knew. As a guy, I didn't feel comfortable telling someone about my depression, opening myself up for judgment and dehumanization. I felt that I would be excluded even more than I already was and people wouldn't even view me as a man anymore. Ultimately, I knew these things would become too much for me, I just never knew when. Ultimately, how I handled being poor, insecure, negative, and the trials that were placed before me led to the state I am in now. Where I always feel like I am compensating for something I think I don't have or want. The problem wasn't that I let these things break me down, its because I had absolutely no belief that I was worthy of anything. There have been times when I felt like nothing and truly believed it for quite a long period of time. That belief stuck just like leeches, sucking every bit of life out of me, bit by bit until no more could be taken. I've heard and experienced so many negative things consistently about/to myself that I became convinced that I am exactly what people say about me and more. As I admit to these discrepancies, I only feel the worst type of feeling is that I disappointed my family and most likely, my mom. My mom was always on my side and was there for me to give me uplifting words when I needed them. Same for my many brothers and sisters. I was never without an ear to tell my problems to and they all believed in the person I would soon become. I feel like I let them down.
One day, I was going through my Facebook timeline and came across the story of Madison Holleran, a former track student-athlete at the University of Pennsylvania, featured on espnW. She had the ideal life. Came from a well-off family who sent her to private school. In high school, she was an accomplished student, track and soccer star. She, just like many of her friends, got accepted and attended very prestigious schools. Madison seemed very social as she was a heavy Instagram user, which profiled her life on campus in Philadelphia. As great as Madison's life was through pictures, she was dealing with very dark demons. Madison committed suicide January 2014, jumping from the ninth level of a parking garage in downtown Philly, one hour from just posting a picture of a park on her feed. Her family and friends were shocked. There was no indication that Maddy was experiencing any type of trouble or that anything was bothering her. And I'm sure that was what is making her death hard for anyone close to her to cope with. Here is where my motivation to deal with my issues came from. While I would not deem myself suicidal by any extent, I understand that depression can drive you to extreme lengths, lengths i never want to see. A woman completely polar opposite from me on the outside, deemed her life no longer worth living. Beneath her beauty, dedication, success and liveliness, laid dormant an emptiness, isolated, insecurity that drove her off the cliff. These same issues plague me at this exact moment and that is what leads me to express my thoughts to everyone. No one knew what was going on in Madison's head and what drove her to take her life. I have learned through her struggle, that I need to make a change within myself so that people I love and are close to me don't have to share the same despair and tragedy.
Depression to an extent is a disease. It starts as a thought and spreads and spreads until it it stopped. If it is not stopped, it will keep spreading until it consumes your being and kills you. Depression is also just a problem, that many of us have yet we ignore. The one great thing about problems, is that they have solutions. Before I even typed a word to this post, I devised of many ways I would solve my problem. One, I have to talk to a therapist or counselor about my issues. For so long i have believed that I can beat these issues on my own. And for a long time i have failed to eradicate them from existence. Therefore, I can not trust myself and must take actions to make sure I get proper treatment and help so that my existence is never in danger of myself. Two, I will have to give myself time to allow my troubles to unload themselves as i go through my shift of thinking. Mainly, i have to allot myself time to deal with my issues of self and that eventually, I will build the assurance and confidence that life has so much to offer than what I think it does for me. Before, I was not willing to be patient and let my problems diffuse. Now, I am. Third, and most important, so important that if this isn't done any other step is just null and void, I have to get every bit of enjoyment and pleasure out of life as I can, no matter what. Even if I have to enjoy things on my own, I have to enjoy them. Although I didn't think much of my achievements in life, they are my achievements, solely belonging to me. The life experiences I have been through were meant specifically for me to prepare me for what I am now and will be. Compared to high school, I actually have done a good job in allowing the metamorphosis occur from being a boy to a man, one that hopes to be the pillar of my family and alleviate the pressures I have felt growing up bringing us prosperity. I have worked hard to get everything I have and to stay alive to tell my story to you all. I believe in modesty as honesty, but sometimes you have to let yourself know you are supreme and exude greatness that lays within. Before I close out, I want anyone suffering from depression to do something about it. Get help. Don't be afraid to talk to someone or deal with your demons. It can mean the difference from your people in tears of joy celebrating you or in tears of disbelief from death. The hardest part is starting the conversation that us as humans have forbidden.
http://espn.go.com/espn/feature/story/_/id/12833146/instagram-account-university-pennsylvania-runner-showed-only-part-story
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Saturday, August 9, 2014
A Year in Review and A Year in Advance
Wow, it's really been a year since I touched my blog. Like, I'm hit with a brick of nostalgia. I remember being in high school and being up at about 7am every Saturday morning and spending hours trying to compile the best coherent thoughts together while listening to music. Such a long time ago. I literally had to reread every post I made just to see the progression I've made over time. I've had some posts that were complete bs, trust me. But others I will have to admit were gold. I'm a firm believer in "modesty is honesty", but I know when Mark Twain crawled out the grave and palmed my brain synching his cunning wit and humor to me so that I could write a nice piece.
Anyway, not to ramble on too much, it's a little past 2 a.m. and I'm in wind down time after work. I usually get off at 11 p.m. feeling dead tired enough that I'd lay on my bed with my pants hanging to my knees with my shoes still in underwear completely visible. Note that I will usually still have my work uniform on too. That's how I feel after an 8 and a half hour shift. But I can never sleep, I'm always spending hours on Twitter, Facebook, iTunes or watching Sportscenter catching up on all the highlights I missed out on during the day. Well, tonight, I'm going to break from the usual. I'm going to go back to doing the one thing that brought me peace and serenity, blogging and expressing myself.
I decided to dedicate this blog to my year away from home. My year from home is a lot different a lot of you guy's year away though. I wasn't necessarily spending my time enjoying the luxurious freedoms and incentives of being on a college campus. I spent my year at basically my second home in Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, in the countryside be that. A much different scene from the city. I go from hearing helicopters and sirens and ruckus at all hours of the day to birds chirping, trees and vast land and wild animals scattered across. It took some time to get used to, but when I did, it felt great.
If anyone remembers my last few blogs, I mentioned how I was going to community college (Parkland College) because of my insuccess with picking the right school for me. At the time, I was disheartened, and truthfully, I never really got over it. I was constantly envious of my fellow classmates who went on to other schools and enjoyed themselves, taking numerous pictures and making lots of statuses and tweets about their adventures at their respective institutions. There were times where I deleted my Twitter and Facebook apps from my phone because I would literally get sick from looking at it all the time. I literally felt like I was touched by King Midas.
Why be jealous you ask? Well, I literally made no friends. And that's totally my fault. I spent so much of the year in a shell, keeping to myself, quiet, just trying to do everything I can to make this year vanish so that it can be over and I can move on. I didn't care to introduce myself to anyone or ask to join any study sessions or anything. Honestly, I thought higher of myself. I went to Whitney Young. I did pretty well at Whitney Young. I did not belong here. I'm better than this. I deserve to be somewhere of my standards.
And what my foolish self couldn't understand at the time is that this was the perfect situation and place for me. Parkland was full of people like me. People who went to pretty good schools and got good grades but the college process didn't go too much in their favor. Throw in people who went through some personal struggles and even people who just got hit with a harsh sense of reality and had to get by for some time and you got a school full of Joshes. People who were just here for a short period of time until they got themselves together to move on and such. Exactly what I was trying to do. I met people who were servicemen and well into their 30s just trying to get started into a career. I met people who were family men who needed a degree to advance within their companies so that they could better provide for their family. I met people who had multiple tries at college and failed and this was their last go a around to complete their mission. These people, and many more, all humbled me. Before coming to a realization, I thought I was one of a kind. Technically, I still am, but there are many others who are just as similar and it made me a lot more comfortable to pursue my mission and adjust to my new setting. It didn't hurt that Parkland has a great curriculum with great teachers who are so genuine and caring that it inspired my love of learning to come back. Probably what helped me keep a 4.0 GPA for the entire school year.
However, despite all that, I still had times that I was absolute miserable. I remember a time where I made a ranting post on Facebook talking about how fed up I was with working, school, my messed up family situation and personal struggles. The beautiful people that you all are came to my support with tons of uplifting support and I am forever grateful for it. I really appreciated it but that's just how things were going for me. I was homesick. I thought about Chicago all the time. My friends, the food, the places, the feel. I missed it all. I thought about something Mr. Johnson, my 11th grade English teacher said to the class about leaving high school. He said that we wouldn't be in contact with 95% of the people we knew at the moment. Most of the class, including myself, scoffed at his claim. There's no way I would lose contact with all my people. I'd definitely make the effort to catch up every once in a while. Unfortunately, he was right. when I left, other than social media, I literally saw nor was in contact with more than three or four people. That's it. Even my best friend, Billy Fountain went off the map on me. The guy I talked to everyday and hung out with constantly. And I must say, out of everything, that hit me the hardest. Not having the one person who I always thought would be there for me. After numerous attempts to contact him, still no word. I gave up. Don't get me started on girls. I went a solid 0fer. From trying get with girls already in relationships and almost fighting one guy (I spared him from a full body cast I was ready for TLC with him) to trying to kindle flames that never existed to just being outright rejected. But that actually brings me laughter, because I clearly wasn't in my right mind with some of those decisions, so I will not take responsibility for it. So Estefania Espinoza if you read this please unblock me from Facebook. I didn't mean to message you on almost every night with nonsense. Well, I did, but just know I apologize. And to any of you who have had the same thoughts, I thank you for your patience.
Along with cold case friendships and lust, I've been mentally and physically drained this year. From having days where I'll get up at 5:30-6 a.m. to go to school and sit in class for hours trying to stay awake for a lecture on logs or english composition because of a long, late shift at work the night before. Some days I'd go to work and school on the same day. Now that was death. I legit never had a complete off day during the school year, it was a constant hustle and grind. I recall times where I would methodically miss classes that didn't require my presence on that day and go to the library and take a nap for that period because I was so sleep deprived from getting an average of four hours of sleep a day no matter what. I had a designated corner where I could kick my feet up and recline so I could get the rest I couldn't get when I should've. I've had days where I've been up almost an entire 24hrs, excluding an occasional nap. Other than that, those nights were spent restless. As for when I didn't work or have school, I was sleeping until 12 p.m. then watched TV for a few hours then napped for three hours then dillydallied for hours then ate something really unhealthy then went to sleep and repeated that same cycle. Yep, my life is really routine and complacent. And that's what makes it that much harder to deal with. I'm always wanting something different. A change. Excitement. It was lacking and I had no solutions.
I had truly experienced my dark days. But with darkness comes light. And that light was in the form of spurts of positivity, my family, my will to not be defeated and the prospect that at any moment I will become what I'm working towards. My sister, who is married to the coolest white guy in the world, has stabilized me. They both have been a rock whenever I needed them. Advice, humor, motivation and a presence that I very much needed. And I can't forget their two dogs, Joey and Blackjack, a small white Maltese breed and a big, barrel-chested Labrador respectively. As much as I can't stand their excitement as they bumrush me as I walk into the house after a long day of school, work or running errands, I look forward to it. These two literally don't care how I call them bad names for being shitty dogs for shitting/peeing in the house or bothering me or just sucking in general, they still love me. No matter what, with no judgment. Did I mention that our house is black and that we are the only black people within miles of where we live? Everything is irony. I mentioned how that as hard and tasking as my 1st school year was, I did still get a 4.0 GPA.
And although I get stressed out of this world from work and dealing with some of the outrageous things ever there like having a tweaker's baby touch my hair or cleaning poop turds off the bathroom floor or finding some guy nut all over the toilet seat or having a crack addict finesse me out of $20 by giving me a sob story and offering me a blowjob (I rejected the blowjob) or catching a man eating McDonald's in our electrical room, my bosses, associates and customers always acknowledge the effort I put in day in and day out. Walgreens may not be my dream job, but at the moment it is where I am and where I will bust my butt until further notice. Got a raise and offered a promotion too. That never hurts. I bought a fixed speed bike and I put the pedal to the medal all around town. I registered for a weight lifting class at school and was in the gym non stop trying to get stronger and more toned. Almost there. Soon I'll be lifting a 30lb weight with my index finger, it's coming just wait on it. During the start of the year, I decided to go natural, growing my hair out and just using natural hair products to keep my hair curly and long. I'm through year one and can't wait to see what it looks like in the future to come. My style has surely been revamped, thanks to the fact I have cash to fund my taste and I actually pick my own clothes now and not my acid wash jean wearing mom. I left Chicago with one pair of shoes. I now have 15, a diverse collection of Vans, Jordans, Nike SB's, New Balances, Puma's and more. I rock selvedge denim and clothes that actually fit just right, not too tight like those Levi 501's from freshmen year or that giant Carhartt coat in the Winter.
While I definitely am no stranger to spending money, I've done a great job saving my money. Along with my everyday spending account, I have a separate savings account, that I tell myself that doesn't exist so I don't touch it, that is in the four figures. I plan on buying a car in my near future. I actually bought Christmas presents last year and it felt great. And not small presents either, I'm talking presents that had me listening to Drake and J. Cole while sipping grape juice in retrospect if ball is life. I was in a position to help out people who helped me in the past and to do that felt good too.
Caught in the feeling of feeling myself, I decided to take a leap of faith and apply for a transfer to Florida State. It was a school I was very fond of and took one year transfers. I had done pretty good after one year of CC so I said why not? I took a shot. After months of anxious waiting, I finally got a decision. I got in. I was elated. I felt relieved. I felt good. Feeling I hadn't felt in a long time. I thought I found my out. I especially felt good because the entire summer was spent with me boasting how I was planning on leaving and gloating to all who came across me. My credibility needed it. I thought I knew my next move. Until I checked my financial aid. Nope. Wasn't going to happen. Out of about a $39,000 bill, I was only given $11,000 in aid, most in loans already. I was $29,000 short of my Florida dream and I was not willing to sign a lease with the devil without the promise of a 1972 Chevy Impala (famously driven in Supernatural by fictional character Sam and Dean Winchester), a lifetime supply of MLB caps and Jennifer Lawrence at my disposable. But even then that would still be in negotiations. I went into defeat. Right back into that slump I fought so hard to climb out of.
However, after giving myself ample enough time to cope with the hit, I got back up. I realized that just getting up and going far away from my comfort zone with no preparation wasn't a smart move anyway. Like how was I going to survive in a brand new state, with just a meager savings and no knowledge of the area and no one of familiarity around me. I thought I was setting myself up with exactly what I've been thirsting for. But in reality, I was setting myself to jump back into misery. I wasn't ready to make that jump just yet. I needed a little more time. So yesterday, I informed FSU that I declined admission and would come back to Parkland. As much to my dismay, I knew I made the right decision. Better to be ahead than lose my head.
Now, it is about 4:19 a.m. I have written an entirely too long post that most of you either won't finish or skim through or just say forget it all together. I couldn't help it. After a year hiatus, I just let the stream do it's part. Ultimately, this year has been just want I needed. I needed to reestablish my humility, my hunger, my drive. Without those, what am I? Nothing. I become? Nothing. This was part two of my development into adulthood, which started way earlier than I wish it had. More struggles and tribulations means more strength. I can take anything, whether I believe I can or not. I've been through the worst, everything else is cake. Preview: This upcoming year, I will be doing exactly what I did last year; grinding, hustling and living. Another 4.0 is in the works and more saving are to come. In addition to the given, I will make a more concerted effort to befriend people to make up for the hole that exists now and I will go back to hobbies that gave me peace of mind before like comic book reading, blogging, video gaming, goofing around, etc. Just going to let my humanity exist and do my best to make sure it never bests me. After all "If you're a man, you don't cry about it. You take life's ups and downs. If you're a real man, you never go down you just stay up."-Ric Flair
Audi 5000
Deuce
Anyway, not to ramble on too much, it's a little past 2 a.m. and I'm in wind down time after work. I usually get off at 11 p.m. feeling dead tired enough that I'd lay on my bed with my pants hanging to my knees with my shoes still in underwear completely visible. Note that I will usually still have my work uniform on too. That's how I feel after an 8 and a half hour shift. But I can never sleep, I'm always spending hours on Twitter, Facebook, iTunes or watching Sportscenter catching up on all the highlights I missed out on during the day. Well, tonight, I'm going to break from the usual. I'm going to go back to doing the one thing that brought me peace and serenity, blogging and expressing myself.
I decided to dedicate this blog to my year away from home. My year from home is a lot different a lot of you guy's year away though. I wasn't necessarily spending my time enjoying the luxurious freedoms and incentives of being on a college campus. I spent my year at basically my second home in Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, in the countryside be that. A much different scene from the city. I go from hearing helicopters and sirens and ruckus at all hours of the day to birds chirping, trees and vast land and wild animals scattered across. It took some time to get used to, but when I did, it felt great.
If anyone remembers my last few blogs, I mentioned how I was going to community college (Parkland College) because of my insuccess with picking the right school for me. At the time, I was disheartened, and truthfully, I never really got over it. I was constantly envious of my fellow classmates who went on to other schools and enjoyed themselves, taking numerous pictures and making lots of statuses and tweets about their adventures at their respective institutions. There were times where I deleted my Twitter and Facebook apps from my phone because I would literally get sick from looking at it all the time. I literally felt like I was touched by King Midas.
Why be jealous you ask? Well, I literally made no friends. And that's totally my fault. I spent so much of the year in a shell, keeping to myself, quiet, just trying to do everything I can to make this year vanish so that it can be over and I can move on. I didn't care to introduce myself to anyone or ask to join any study sessions or anything. Honestly, I thought higher of myself. I went to Whitney Young. I did pretty well at Whitney Young. I did not belong here. I'm better than this. I deserve to be somewhere of my standards.
And what my foolish self couldn't understand at the time is that this was the perfect situation and place for me. Parkland was full of people like me. People who went to pretty good schools and got good grades but the college process didn't go too much in their favor. Throw in people who went through some personal struggles and even people who just got hit with a harsh sense of reality and had to get by for some time and you got a school full of Joshes. People who were just here for a short period of time until they got themselves together to move on and such. Exactly what I was trying to do. I met people who were servicemen and well into their 30s just trying to get started into a career. I met people who were family men who needed a degree to advance within their companies so that they could better provide for their family. I met people who had multiple tries at college and failed and this was their last go a around to complete their mission. These people, and many more, all humbled me. Before coming to a realization, I thought I was one of a kind. Technically, I still am, but there are many others who are just as similar and it made me a lot more comfortable to pursue my mission and adjust to my new setting. It didn't hurt that Parkland has a great curriculum with great teachers who are so genuine and caring that it inspired my love of learning to come back. Probably what helped me keep a 4.0 GPA for the entire school year.
However, despite all that, I still had times that I was absolute miserable. I remember a time where I made a ranting post on Facebook talking about how fed up I was with working, school, my messed up family situation and personal struggles. The beautiful people that you all are came to my support with tons of uplifting support and I am forever grateful for it. I really appreciated it but that's just how things were going for me. I was homesick. I thought about Chicago all the time. My friends, the food, the places, the feel. I missed it all. I thought about something Mr. Johnson, my 11th grade English teacher said to the class about leaving high school. He said that we wouldn't be in contact with 95% of the people we knew at the moment. Most of the class, including myself, scoffed at his claim. There's no way I would lose contact with all my people. I'd definitely make the effort to catch up every once in a while. Unfortunately, he was right. when I left, other than social media, I literally saw nor was in contact with more than three or four people. That's it. Even my best friend, Billy Fountain went off the map on me. The guy I talked to everyday and hung out with constantly. And I must say, out of everything, that hit me the hardest. Not having the one person who I always thought would be there for me. After numerous attempts to contact him, still no word. I gave up. Don't get me started on girls. I went a solid 0fer. From trying get with girls already in relationships and almost fighting one guy (I spared him from a full body cast I was ready for TLC with him) to trying to kindle flames that never existed to just being outright rejected. But that actually brings me laughter, because I clearly wasn't in my right mind with some of those decisions, so I will not take responsibility for it. So Estefania Espinoza if you read this please unblock me from Facebook. I didn't mean to message you on almost every night with nonsense. Well, I did, but just know I apologize. And to any of you who have had the same thoughts, I thank you for your patience.
Along with cold case friendships and lust, I've been mentally and physically drained this year. From having days where I'll get up at 5:30-6 a.m. to go to school and sit in class for hours trying to stay awake for a lecture on logs or english composition because of a long, late shift at work the night before. Some days I'd go to work and school on the same day. Now that was death. I legit never had a complete off day during the school year, it was a constant hustle and grind. I recall times where I would methodically miss classes that didn't require my presence on that day and go to the library and take a nap for that period because I was so sleep deprived from getting an average of four hours of sleep a day no matter what. I had a designated corner where I could kick my feet up and recline so I could get the rest I couldn't get when I should've. I've had days where I've been up almost an entire 24hrs, excluding an occasional nap. Other than that, those nights were spent restless. As for when I didn't work or have school, I was sleeping until 12 p.m. then watched TV for a few hours then napped for three hours then dillydallied for hours then ate something really unhealthy then went to sleep and repeated that same cycle. Yep, my life is really routine and complacent. And that's what makes it that much harder to deal with. I'm always wanting something different. A change. Excitement. It was lacking and I had no solutions.
I had truly experienced my dark days. But with darkness comes light. And that light was in the form of spurts of positivity, my family, my will to not be defeated and the prospect that at any moment I will become what I'm working towards. My sister, who is married to the coolest white guy in the world, has stabilized me. They both have been a rock whenever I needed them. Advice, humor, motivation and a presence that I very much needed. And I can't forget their two dogs, Joey and Blackjack, a small white Maltese breed and a big, barrel-chested Labrador respectively. As much as I can't stand their excitement as they bumrush me as I walk into the house after a long day of school, work or running errands, I look forward to it. These two literally don't care how I call them bad names for being shitty dogs for shitting/peeing in the house or bothering me or just sucking in general, they still love me. No matter what, with no judgment. Did I mention that our house is black and that we are the only black people within miles of where we live? Everything is irony. I mentioned how that as hard and tasking as my 1st school year was, I did still get a 4.0 GPA.
And although I get stressed out of this world from work and dealing with some of the outrageous things ever there like having a tweaker's baby touch my hair or cleaning poop turds off the bathroom floor or finding some guy nut all over the toilet seat or having a crack addict finesse me out of $20 by giving me a sob story and offering me a blowjob (I rejected the blowjob) or catching a man eating McDonald's in our electrical room, my bosses, associates and customers always acknowledge the effort I put in day in and day out. Walgreens may not be my dream job, but at the moment it is where I am and where I will bust my butt until further notice. Got a raise and offered a promotion too. That never hurts. I bought a fixed speed bike and I put the pedal to the medal all around town. I registered for a weight lifting class at school and was in the gym non stop trying to get stronger and more toned. Almost there. Soon I'll be lifting a 30lb weight with my index finger, it's coming just wait on it. During the start of the year, I decided to go natural, growing my hair out and just using natural hair products to keep my hair curly and long. I'm through year one and can't wait to see what it looks like in the future to come. My style has surely been revamped, thanks to the fact I have cash to fund my taste and I actually pick my own clothes now and not my acid wash jean wearing mom. I left Chicago with one pair of shoes. I now have 15, a diverse collection of Vans, Jordans, Nike SB's, New Balances, Puma's and more. I rock selvedge denim and clothes that actually fit just right, not too tight like those Levi 501's from freshmen year or that giant Carhartt coat in the Winter.
While I definitely am no stranger to spending money, I've done a great job saving my money. Along with my everyday spending account, I have a separate savings account, that I tell myself that doesn't exist so I don't touch it, that is in the four figures. I plan on buying a car in my near future. I actually bought Christmas presents last year and it felt great. And not small presents either, I'm talking presents that had me listening to Drake and J. Cole while sipping grape juice in retrospect if ball is life. I was in a position to help out people who helped me in the past and to do that felt good too.
Caught in the feeling of feeling myself, I decided to take a leap of faith and apply for a transfer to Florida State. It was a school I was very fond of and took one year transfers. I had done pretty good after one year of CC so I said why not? I took a shot. After months of anxious waiting, I finally got a decision. I got in. I was elated. I felt relieved. I felt good. Feeling I hadn't felt in a long time. I thought I found my out. I especially felt good because the entire summer was spent with me boasting how I was planning on leaving and gloating to all who came across me. My credibility needed it. I thought I knew my next move. Until I checked my financial aid. Nope. Wasn't going to happen. Out of about a $39,000 bill, I was only given $11,000 in aid, most in loans already. I was $29,000 short of my Florida dream and I was not willing to sign a lease with the devil without the promise of a 1972 Chevy Impala (famously driven in Supernatural by fictional character Sam and Dean Winchester), a lifetime supply of MLB caps and Jennifer Lawrence at my disposable. But even then that would still be in negotiations. I went into defeat. Right back into that slump I fought so hard to climb out of.
However, after giving myself ample enough time to cope with the hit, I got back up. I realized that just getting up and going far away from my comfort zone with no preparation wasn't a smart move anyway. Like how was I going to survive in a brand new state, with just a meager savings and no knowledge of the area and no one of familiarity around me. I thought I was setting myself up with exactly what I've been thirsting for. But in reality, I was setting myself to jump back into misery. I wasn't ready to make that jump just yet. I needed a little more time. So yesterday, I informed FSU that I declined admission and would come back to Parkland. As much to my dismay, I knew I made the right decision. Better to be ahead than lose my head.
Now, it is about 4:19 a.m. I have written an entirely too long post that most of you either won't finish or skim through or just say forget it all together. I couldn't help it. After a year hiatus, I just let the stream do it's part. Ultimately, this year has been just want I needed. I needed to reestablish my humility, my hunger, my drive. Without those, what am I? Nothing. I become? Nothing. This was part two of my development into adulthood, which started way earlier than I wish it had. More struggles and tribulations means more strength. I can take anything, whether I believe I can or not. I've been through the worst, everything else is cake. Preview: This upcoming year, I will be doing exactly what I did last year; grinding, hustling and living. Another 4.0 is in the works and more saving are to come. In addition to the given, I will make a more concerted effort to befriend people to make up for the hole that exists now and I will go back to hobbies that gave me peace of mind before like comic book reading, blogging, video gaming, goofing around, etc. Just going to let my humanity exist and do my best to make sure it never bests me. After all "If you're a man, you don't cry about it. You take life's ups and downs. If you're a real man, you never go down you just stay up."-Ric Flair
Audi 5000
Deuce
Sunday, June 30, 2013
I am Josh Wilks
As
I sit on my couch (or should I say my aunt's sectional), punching these keys to put letters together to make words on
Microsoft Word for my blog, nostalgia hits me. High School has came to an end
for me. It is hard to fathom. I know many say they feel like they were just a
freshman not too long ago and they are completely right. As things have turned
out, four years is not a long time. Four years has felt like a flash really. I
remember exact details of my first day of high school like it was this past
morning, from what I was wearing to the people I met to Dr. Kenner telling me
to pull up my black 511 Levis jeans off my butt. She got on me about that a few
times while at Whitney. Always telling me about respect and not being a
hoodlum. Since then, I kept a belt on me, some days my pants still sagged
though. I’m sorry I can’t help it. But I specifically remember telling myself the night before my first day that I had plenty of time to accomplish what I wanted to accomplish in high school and that I should stay patient throughout. Zoop, fifteen minutes has passed and I've already walked across the stage at the Arie Crown Theater.
My previous thoughts are exactly why
writing this is that much harder. I can go on and on about random thoughts and
memories experienced and enhanced from my time at Whitney Young. Truthfully, it
hurts to reminisce, especially on my time in high school, as up and down as it
seemed at times. I would not have wanted things to go any differently than they
did. My many failed attempts to attract women (I’m probably 14-67, I stopped
counting a while ago), staying up late at night the day before a test, project
or essay was due to complete it and prepare for the next day, the social events
I attended in and out of school, the social cycle and all the etceteras, I
would not change them one bit. Dumping Livio Bolzon in a garbage can Sophomore year as well as that in-school for hitting a freshman with a wet roll of tissue (never found out that kid's name). I remember the homecoming dances and games, city championships for volleyball, soccer, basketball and even lacrosse. I remember the walk-out freshman year, having a new counselor almost every year and never noticing it because I visited so little. I was a mess during the Harlem Shake so I won't even bring that one up.
All of the aforementioned taught me
something. Even if it turned out negative or against my favor, as long as I
learned from them, I made it my business to extract a positive from every
situation and outcome. I came to high school with the idea that I could start
new and reinvent myself. In elementary school, I was a shy, nervous, soft kid
who really kept to himself unless people I was really cool with were in my
presence. Other than that, catch me sitting in the middle of the class, silent
as water flowing, head buried in my studies. I got teased a bit, mostly about
my big lips and my hygiene, and girls were not really into me. I felt like an
outcast sometimes. Coming into high school, I had a plan. I wanted to become
more social, more hygienic, more relaxed, basically the complete opposite of
what I was in elementary school. For the most part, I succeeded. I never had a
hard time meeting new friends. Most of my friendships started through my
initiation. Saying “wassup” with a smile (towards a girl) or handshake (towards
a guy) goes far. What stood out the most was my sense of humor and genuine
nature. Making people laugh is the best way to change their moods. I liked
brightening people’s day up. Although I am most known for my raunchy, out of the ordinary weird humor, it made people laugh nonetheless. One thing about me, I was never afraid of saying anything that I wanted to say or needed to say. From shooting a witty, sarcastic joke to actually
giving someone a compliment, I knew how to make people smile and feel good.
Sometimes people need it.
From going through my own trials and
tribulations, I don’t underestimate that. My home life was not good. From the start of my teens, I was always at odds with my mother (got put out a few times). The finances in my home were always tight as well. For a long time my mom has been unemployed due to injuries to her back and knees. I got clothes and shoes whenever my mom could afford them and although my family never starved, there were many days where my mom put her culinary skills to the test and put together scraps of scraps. I don't have a close relationship with my father. I don't have a car or license. I never lived in the best homes or environments, which is partially why I have moved 6 times in 6 years. There was never anything stable in my life. Two of my greatest fears growing up were me becoming a product of my environment or being calculated in the ensuing death statistics. Coming from Englewood, I was always on alert about potential trouble. Unfortunately, it was extremely hard to avoid it because it was everywhere. There aren't many recreation spots where I come from and while the school system is still out failing many of the people who come from where I come from, it is easy to get sucked into becoming a hustler or street thug or even worse, doing absolutely nothing. There were often times I felt outnumbered or came across guys who I knew had guns (which was everyday), I took detours home. My mom was always hesitant to let me go out sometimes because she was afraid something would happen to me. Even though it hindered a lot of potential fun I could have had, who knows how many times it also helped me avoid a bullet wound or head buried in concrete. The way things are in my neighborhood, I can't even blame my mom for any of that.
What made it hard about everything, was trying to keep everything concealed within me and going out within the world just like everyone else. I often felt less than everyone else, not because of the luxuries that people have that I don't, but because of the bare necessities I sometimes lacked, like having enough cash on me, clean clothes or not running out of deodorant and toothpaste.
From talking to a few teachers and
counselors, to writing about it in papers, to being open enough finally to tell
a few select friends, my last few years in high school are known and they were hell. Here’s a
summary: I was robbed at gunpoint on the first day of school Junior year after football practice for 50 cents and my busted cellphone. I was beaten up badly by a group of guys off of 79th and Halsted, a few blocks away from my home at the time. When things finally started looking up, my mom and I got a new apartment directly across the street from the lake. However, my
home was broken into while I was using the bathroom. I remember my little sister panicking, knocking on the bathroom door to tell me somebody is trying to break in. We hid in that bathroom like children from Schindler's List. I became homeless (twice!), while dealing with the death of
my grandfather and my mother becoming ill leaving me once again misplaced. I
haven’t had the best of luck trying to stay alive and survive as you can see. It
seems that trouble clings to my back. And it always seemed that once I started
to get myself together, I got hit with another bad thing. It was hard to deal
with too. Many nights were spent wondering if I would make it out alive in
Chicago, what could happen to my mother or if I would live long enough to see
my dreams come true. All were very much up in the air. I got hit with a lot of
anxiety and for a while, was extremely depressed. It got to the point where I seriously contemplated dropping out of school and running away when I was staying in my sister's one room basement apartment. I had some of the saddest days of my life there, not her to blame though, more towards my current situation. I was always broke, never much to eat (on the 4th of July last year, I was alone and had nothing but a small package of mashed potatoes to eat, call me Oliver Negro, word to Charles Dickens) and I was still dealing with anxiety from all of my dangerous encounters. I often had dreams someone would sneak in on me and shoot me in the head. That's why I kept sleep to a minimum for a while For a short period of time, I sold loose cigarettes that a close friend smuggled from Indiana to me or items I took from trucks that corner stores used to restock. Whatever to put a little cash in my pocket. I feel bad about a lot of things I resorted to but life was not going the way I wanted it
to.
Ultimately, I found myself living with my aunt, where I still stay at this moment. Things here are cool. My aunt has a nice home, she helps me with cash when I am in a bind and the neighborhood isn't too bad. But let me tell you about getting a crash course in adulthood. My aunt is in a high ranking position at her job so she works long hours (12-13 hours about 5-6 days a week). That means I am left to fend for myself when it comes to food and finding a means of entertainment. I've also gotten lectures for days that come out of the blue. As boring as they can get at times, I really appreciate them. One thing in particular my aunt said to me really opened my eyes. I was trying to stay home from school about a month ago and my aunt was trying to get me to go. My aunt being the workaholic she is, told me about how she goes to work in whatever condition she or the weather is in. Of course a lecture started but within this one she brought up something interesting. She said that she noticed that I lost my drive and motivation lately, that I was becoming complacent. And for some reason that hit me hard. She was right. Ever since I started going through turmoil, my driving force for success slowly dwindled. It became more about surviving than anything else. My lust for doing well in school became just doing good enough to pass. I loathed going to school or even having to go out often. I wrote about my college situation a while ago and rather than restating it I'd rather you go back and look a it. http://joshdeucewilks.blogspot.com/2013/05/college.html I went from elementary school valedictorian who promised himself he was headed to Georgetown or USC to not knowing where I am going to school even this being July. One thing for sure is that it won't be in Chicago.Sadly, this will probably be my last summer or stay in Chicago. My mom is planning to move to Champaign-Urbana, Illinois in the near future. Honestly, even though I don't want o leave Chicago, I don't want my mom or I in Englewood or any other flimsy house anymore. Plus, I know my mom is unhappy here. My mom has spent her whole life breaking her back to take care of my siblings and I. So that we can be happy. What kind of son would I be to deny my mom happiness? That's all I want to give her. It brings more sorrow to my heart that I have to leave my home and the people I have grew up with and developed friendships with. But then again, there was going to come that point in time where everyone would be leaving home for school and I'd still be at home with my mom (I decided to go to community college).
With all that said, right now, I
find myself in a mentally stable state, with everything to look forward to and
a more positive outlook on life. I owe it to my family, my friends and WY. One
of my most reliable outlets when I felt down was going to school. There, I was
able to get away from my life troubles. I know I kinda contradicted myself, but coming to school and being around other people was relief to me. I find it hard to sympathize with people who hate WY along with the people. Partially, it is because of where I came from, specifically the schools and neighborhoods. I feel if people had experienced what it was like to overachieve at an underpeforming school or come from a more humble beginning, they would have more positive opinions about the school. One thing I take pride in is not burning any bridges. There were people I didn't get along with or particularly like that well, but I kept a good mutual acquaintanceship with them. I made sure I always treated people with respect and took responsibility for things I did to them. The diversity aspect was something I really appreciated. Coming from predominately black schools made it hard at first to adjust to people of different race and cultures. But I am so grateful for it because my circle of friends has expanded greatly. I can actually say that if I see anyone in the streets, they would give me a genuine hello/what's up. Being around some of the people I have has humbled me and being under the tutelage of teachers like Mr.
English, Mr. Johnson, Ms. Graf, Ms. Smith, Ms. Reist-Jones, Ms. Heeseman, Ms.
Clotworthy and many others, really helped me feel like I was like any other
student. There was no favoritism, unless it was towards me because I had a way
of getting teachers to like me.
At first, I was reluctant to tell anyone about
what was going on with me; I wanted to avoid being judged and pitied. I felt
beneath everyone else because I did not have my mom with me or a stable place to
stay. In actuality, telling someone made everything better. I got help with
school, my teachers let me make-up tons of work, I had ears to vent to whenever
I felt down. And in the meantime I learned that many others have been through
similar things as me and it felt nice that someone else could sympathize with
what I was going through. The staff at WY is just so different from other
schools. I have never had a principal care as much as Dr. Kenner. I personally
got to sit down with her and talk and she helped me out with a lot of things.
Not many heads take that type of time out of their way to do that and I greatly
appreciate it. I also appreciate all my friends and family who understood what I going through and made it their goal to ensure I stay in school to graduate and have the best senior year I could possibly have. Thanks everyone.
Now, here I am, still writing this. I
still can’t believe I graduated. It feels like not so long
ago I was stepping through the glass building for the first time, now I will have to step int another educational institution for the firsttime. Truthfully, I was not ready to
go. I wish I could be a fifth year senior who really does not have to go to any
classes and just act like a wise hermit to all the underclassmen. Some of them
need the guidance. However, I realize that me leaving WY is a necessary step to
my life development. In terms of leaving Chicago and all my friends, I just have to make sure I make the most of it while I'm here. Instead of dwelling on what I will be missing, I have to
apply everything I learned from there and apply it going forward. Typing these
last few sentences is tough. I do not know how to end this. I did not want to end it. I have said all I needed to say. I shall get hit with the same nostalgia as before, and it will bring the
same sweet memories every time that makes me confident that I have no more to
accomplish in high school. I have to move on. Excuse me while I put on my big boy pants.
To end, I want to leave you with my man Terry's new song check it out. Be sure to be on the lookout for details on his upcoming show this Saturday too. Hell, let me go ahead and put up Flwless' new song too. Gotta put all my homies on, not just one. I'm out.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=4aCEn8MLjMA One Train (Flwamix)
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mother's Day
"I'LL ALWAYS LOVE MY MAMA, CUZ SHE'S MY FAVORITE GIRLLLLLLLLLLLLL" Truth if I ever heard it (sorry side dips). A little Intruders early in the a.m. keeps my soul healthy. Y'all don't know anything about this so don't even pretend. Today being Mother's Day has put me in the mood to listen to songs about moms. And in turn that makes me think about my mom.
I LOVE MY MAMA SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH AND IF YOU THINK YOU LOVE YOUR MAMA MORE THAN I LOVE MINE WE MIGHT HAVE TO THROW HANDS UNTIL THE DEATH.
Alright, I had my moment. Back to the script. I really love my mom. I can't even explain it. It's one of those things that I think about and it's one of the most sure things in my life. I'm definitely not the only one who feels like that (hopefully) and it makes me even happier. I love when people appreciate their mother. Whether we want to believe it or not, having kids is an extremely hard job. Personally, I can footwork in the morning everyday at the fact that I don't have to give birth. If you've been in SexEd, you've seen the in-depth process at that and for that alone they mom's should receive props. I make sure to give my mom props everyday, whether it's a thank you for food she cooked or brought home, to buying me something and having it waiting on me when I get home (one of the best feelings) or just a hug just cause. What I really appreciate is when I'm in a slump, my mother would notice it instantly and remind me that I have a purpose and to stay up as I usually do. That's rejuvenation for me. My mother does it best.
For a little background on my mother Pamela Berry, she's from Alabama, Jefferson County I believe. She moved to Chicago when she was in grammar school, to the block of 67th and Carpenter (my mom and I actually live in the house directly in front of where her old home stood, which we also lived in when I was younger). My mom had 7 siblings, just 1 short of the amount I have. After the departure of the two oldest uncles, it was clear my mother already had motherly instincts in her. She watched over her younger siblings a lot, cooked, cleaned, and everything else. One story mom particularly tells all the time is when she was a teenager and my grandfather and grandmother left cookies on the table and told them to not eat them or they would be punished. My mother watched over those cookies closely while my grandparents were away, making sure none of her busybody younger siblings took one. My grandfather came home and punished all the older siblings including my mom anyway. His reasoning? The cookies were moved. My mom never got over that and honestly, it's a funny yet harsh story.
Fast forward to my mom's senior year in high school. She gets pregnant with my oldest sister Sheree and soon gets married. That's when the legend of Pam began. My mom soon had 8 more kids, most within two year spans until you get toward my older brother and little sister. Yeah, we were a mess. From my brother Rashin hitting my brother Marciano with a hammer playing Power Rangers to my brother Matt framing me for a bathroom mishap by shitting on the floor and blaming me, we knew how to keep her busy. But oh believe me, my mother wasn't a pushover. She was a strict authoritarian parent. Whatever she demanded, had to be done, or there were swift consequences. There was no talking back, your opinion was often disregarded, and there were very high standards for the way we carried ourselves and school. Now that I think about it, I've said "Yes ma'am" more than I've ever said my name. We rarely were ever let off the block to go play in fear that we may fall victim to violence or abduction .The house always had to be clean as well. I remember times where my mom would call the house to check in on us and tell us she was coming home from work soon and we would get in a cleaning frenzy. We knew a dirty home was unacceptable to her and was a high crime.
As much as my siblings and I despised the way things were, it made us, from my judgment, really good people. My mother was trying to raise us right. She was trying to instill respect, organization and righteousness in us. Growing up in Englewood, not many kids were as privileged to have a mother who cared as much as ours. None of us are in prison, addicted to drugs, bums, idle or dead. My brothers and sisters and I all know people who are in prison, homeless, in foster homes and/or are staying with relatives. I know the importance of having an active mom. Someone for care and comfort and to keep a foot in your ass every once in a while, only to keep you on the right path. My siblings and I really didn't have active fathers in our lives so all we had to depend on was ourselves and our mother. My mother played the dual parent role as well as anyone else. She would kick us in the chest then hand us a bag of frozen vegetables to take down the swelling. She was tough when she needed to and kind when we called for it. There was always a good equilibrium.
Now I know that college is around the corner for seniors like me and tensions are getting a little high with that in mind. I always hear about how people can't wait to leave their homes, either to get a break from the respective parenting or just to start a new experience. I don't agree with that. Why are so many ready to away from the people who love them probably more than anyone else? Do you really have a grudge because your mom made you stay crib-bound on the nights of a few parties, or didn't get you that one thing you wanted or got on you about a sub-par grade you got when you knew you were getting your crap together? Look guys, I understand that parents can be pretty overprotective, unreasonable, tormenting, and a bunch of other adjectives that I don't feel like writing. But also understand, that they won't be here forever. You have to love and appreciate the people you care about while they are here because you won't always have the chance to, too many people take that for granted. In today's society, a mom can be kissing her son or daughter on the forehead/cheek for the last time and wouldn't know it. Hell, you could be kissed by your mom for the last time and wouldn't know it. Ponder that. Using the violence in Chicago and other violent cities along with the Sandy Hook incident as images, you will never know when the physical presence of a loved one will be missing. I remember my friend Layton telling me about how his mom died when he was little and how it affected his attitude towards a lot of things. Then it made me think about all my other friends who lost their mother or have had their mothers strung out on drugs. It's disheartening. I can't ever imagine myself without my mother and it brings me to tears that one day she will leave me. Almost unfair.
While we always seem to focus on how they give us grief, let's not forget the happiness and smiles they are responsible for. Those Christmas gifts that you thought they would never buy you but they got you. Those birthday presents that were waiting for you when you got home from school along with a personalized cake and you favorite meal. Those times where you were upset or hurt and your parents swooped in to the rescue faster than the man who's a speeding bullet himself. I remember one time I was in the backyard playing catch with some of my friends and a ball hit me right in the mouth. Blood was everywhere. Of course I went crying to my mom, it was only right. My mom saw me in distress and grabbed whatever cloth was near her, which just so happened to be one of her favorite shirts. My mom used her favorite shirt to clean gushing blood from my mouth, that's love for sure. I still have that bent back tooth from that day and when I brush my teeth, it serves as a constant reminder of her sacrificing something she cherished for me.
Think about those times where you were in huge jams that almost seemed unshakable, to you of course. The OG's always know a way. It may seem like they don't see your side of things, it's really that through their experience, they are just trying to show you something that is proven to work. My mom knows how to work almost any situation until it is in my favor. When I get in trouble, my mom would take my side and go for bat for me until she couldn't anymore. My mom made sure I was taken care of and I got what I deserved, whether it was a prize or an ass beating. On my 8th grade graduation day, it was unclear whether I was going to be the valedictorian because I was disciplined by the school a lot that year even though my grades were the best. My mom went down to the school early and caused a huge commotion in the office until she got someone to tell her whether I got the honor or not. My mom left angry, she came back with a sneaky smile. I came back with a big ass trophy. Owe it to my mom.
Moms generally want you to have the best in life, I know for sure my mom does. My mom always told me when I was little I was one of the few people who could do anything I wanted to, if I wanted to do it. She also told me numerous times that I would take care of her when I got older because I would have plenty of money. The fact that she has so much faith in me just wants me to never quit. That along with my intrinsic motivation within will never allow me to be inadequate and just somebody else. I have to maximize whatever I have in me so that when I get older I can actually take care of her better than she did for me, hard as that sounds because I don't think what I can do for her can equal what she did for me. In relation to my blog yesterday about my college process, you can now understand how I feel. I don't want to disappoint my mother. It seemed for a while all that she done for me and taught me was in vain because my future wasn't exactly what we both expected. Then it made me reminisce. My mother had hopes and dreams, just like everyone else. She gave those up or altered them when she had nine kids, while she was very well still one, although quite mature then. My mother didn't work long, hard, crap jobs for almost 30 years to not see me become what she worked even longer and harder to craft. I told my mom when I was five I wanted to rule the world and at 18 I still want to do exactly that. It's only fair that I do that, for all that she has done, fought through and done for me.
To close, even though me and my mom haven't had the best relationship throughout our lives, I wouldn't ask for one any different. She raised me to be an honorable, respectful, handsome, intelligent young man I present myself everyday. For that I am forever grateful. Now, I'm not telling you that you have to love your mother because I don't know everyone's situation. I understand that sometime's blood is just blood and nothing more. But in the respect of today, love her anyway. Treat her like the queen she truly is. I'm not gonna hit you with the "Why isn't everyday Mother's Day" but I will say if my future goes as planned, everyday I live will be dedicated to her. Love you ma! I now leave you with musical selections regarding what else? Mothers. Also, for everyone who sent me pics, I will take you back memory lane. Stay classy.
 |
| Billy Fountain and His Mom |
.JPG) |
| Caitlin O'Hara and Her Mom |
.JPG) |
| Asia Williams and Her Mom/Grandma |
.JPG) |
| Erica Lee and Her Mom |
.JPG) |
| Brandon Doby and His Mom |
.JPG) |
| Sukari Stone and Her Mom |
 |
| Iliana Elias and Her Mom |
 |
| Philip Gordon II and His Mom |
 |
| Chris Rodriguez and His Mom |
 |
| Jazmine Colquitt and Her Mom |
 |
| Alex Smith and His Mom |
 |
| Khalid El-Amin and His Mom Dr. Muhammad |
 |
| Nick Fisher and His Mom |
.jpeg) |
| Michaela Kiersch and Her Mom |
 |
| Erik Randall and His Mom |
.jpg) |
| Carter Coates and His Mom |
.JPG) |
| Jillian Fuller and Her Mom |
.jpeg) |
| Talia Grace-Koylass and Her Mom |
 |
| My sister Marquita with her son Christian |
 |
| Jarea Seabrooks and her Mom |
 |
| Me and My Mom |
 |
| My sister Clifvette and her daughter Makayla |
 |
| Gwen Pepin and Her Mom |
 |
| Vivian Li and Her Mom |
Saturday, May 11, 2013
College
Wow, it's been a while since I made a post. I know I said I was gonna make a post every week but I got a little preoccupied with a lot of things. My apologies. I'm back now. My topic today is COLLEGE. *cues music* DUN DUNDUNDUN DUNDUNNNNNNN DUN DUNDUN DUNDUNNNNNNNNNN DUNNNNNDUNNNNDUNNNN DUNNNNNDUNNNN DUNNNNNNNN. College, for some people, is the next developmental stage in both your education, as you are sure to broaden your horizons of learning and your life, as you are getting more mature and independent, getting ready to be lone wolf in the wild.
May 1st was the deadline most students were given to make their admission deposits to secure their spot in a college/university. Many people were extremely excited to share what university they chose and how they can't wait to be there and others around them rejoiced with equable emotion. For me, that deadline came and passed like any other day. I didn't pick a college. Honestly, I couldn't pick a college. While other people are looking for roommates and are picking classes and going on orientations for their selected schools, I'm doing something that isn't that. And personally, I felt left out. I was looking forward to being able to pick a college and join in on all the fun like everyone else, but I couldn't and for a while it hurt a lot.
Now to answer "Why was I not able to pick a college?". I'll take your through my entire college process. Truthfully, I didn't have an organized college process. I remember my junior year all I heard from my counselors and teachers was to do research on schools and visit schools and ask questions to get a head start on the process. I did the very minimum on each, not going thoroughly in-depth into every school that interested me to get a better glimpse if fit me. When it came down to picking colleges, I feel victim to the "name-brand" generalization. A few of the schools I applied to were top notch universities (Georgetown, Cal-Berkeley, USC, UCLA (just in case I didn't get into USC) and I feel like an absolute goofy for applying to each. I didn't get into any of them. Not only did it not occur to me that those four are extremely hard to get into (Cal-Berkeley and UCLA are two of the hardest public universities to get into for an out-of-state resident). Georgetown and USC are by far my favorite schools and still are. I feel in love with Georgetown through their basketball team, coached by legendary John Thompson, Jr (now coached by his son JTIII). My sister Marquita was a huge basketball fan, especially college basketball. We watched many games together, mostly during tournament time and it was evident early that I feel in love with the Hoyas. From there, I fell in love with everything else about GTown, the culture, academics, history, the fact that they are almost a direct pipeline to the FBI (I always wanted to shoot someone in the butt and just flash my badass badge). Almost the same story with USC. I fell in love with their football team and especially Pete Carroll, the then-time coach who not only brought lots of success to the program but helped out young black men in the South Central LA district and I admired that. As I look deep into my heart however, I notice that I mostly applied to these schools I had no chance at because they were in far away places I wanted to be in (California and Washington, D.C.) and I wanted to see if one school would take a chance on a struggling, upcoming, young, black male from Englewood (aka affirmative action GASPS). Yeah yeah yeah. Label me ignorant, opportunistic, and silly but I would not have cared for your opinion of what you thought was right if one of those schools did roll the dice with me and accept me. I know the type of person I am and so do many of you. I know I could make myself worthy of being in a such a position. But back to reality, the cards didn't shake out that way.
With every other school I applied to, I believe University of Illinois-Champaign-Urbana was the only school I wanted to go to and even then, my mother wanted me to apply their because my sister lives in Urbana and is getting her Ph.D. once she finishes and defends her thesis in months to come. I've been on the campus numerous times, almost like I live there since I visit my sister often. Even then, I applied to their business school because that's what I want to major in and UIUC has a good business program. My mistake here was "good" wasn't the right word to describe it. It was "phenomenal". Little do people know UofI has the 14th best Business school in the entire nation according to one poll, better than most Ivy League schools. I didn't know that and I was shot down into a school I know I easily could've gotten into had I not applied to the business program. This was huge because UIUC was my fallback school. I made the mistake of not applying to any school in Chicago because I didn't want to be so close to home. What about the remaining schools you guys ask? Well, I only applied to schools that were offering merit-scholarships and free application fees. My family was going through a little financial trouble and another significant event (I'll let you guys know about it in a blog during the last week of school). I didn't want to pile up a bunch of fees on my mother and older siblings, so I just made it easy and applied to a lot of schools that waived application fees. All of those schools accepted me. All gave me scholarships as well. As successful as that sounds, it was just as heartbreaking. I'll take you down the list.
Drexel-$32,000 in scholarships and grants ($65,000 in tuition+room and board)
Howard-$10,000 in scholarships and grants ($45,000 in tuition not including room and board)
Butler-$25,000 in scholarships and grants ($49,000 in tuition not including room and board)
Dayton-$27,000 in scholarships and grants ($46,000 in tuition not including room and board)
Xavier-$30,000 in scholarships and grants ($44,000 in tuition not including room and board)
Indiana U-accepted me but did not notify me of financial reward online or through mail so they get the double middle fingers
So, on average, I was gonna be $100,000 in debt by the time I finished a 4-year degree in college not accounting if I wanted to pursue graduate school. I understand that very few people leave college without any debt but without being assured a job once I completed school and considering I didn't feel strong about any of those schools, it would be foolish of me to take on that much debt and possibly be unhappy.
Now you ask "Why didn't you apply for any scholarships?" Your better off making a judgement for yourself than asking me because I don't know. I messed up their. Had I been proactive in this department, a lot of the debt I was recently worried about could've dwindled significantly. I've been dealing with a lot this year, from family issues to personal issues to not tweaking in school so I can graduate. Applying for scholarships just didn't enter my mind. That's not an excuse though. Regardless of what I was going through, I should have been applying for every scholarship I qualified for. Shit is real out here.
April 30th and May 1st were probably the two of the three most stressful days of 2013 for me. Surrounded by so much instability and uncertainty, other than having to go to school those days, you were sure to find me sitting on the couch with a disappointed face. I've spoken to many on the topic, most telling me to do what's best for me which doesn't help any because I don't know what to do. Then there are the people who want me to go off and disregard the debt and get a new surrounding. Then you have those headed by my mom who wants me to stay home and go to community college.
The fact that things have gotten to the point where community college and staying at home was my best option hit me hard. I know I didn't mess up in school to where I had to and I know I worked way too hard to where that was the best I could do. To be honest, my view of community college wasn't positive, I stereotyped the people that went there unfairly. It's just, how could I tell people I'm going to community college when there are people going to Ivy Leagues, Howard, Northwestern, UIUC, NYU, USC and etc. I ran into my ex-girlfriend one day (who got into UofChicago, Yale, Brown, Princeton UPenn and Harvard) and asked her what school she's going to. She told me Brown, an Ivy League school. Before she could ask me where I was going, I got the hell out of dodge. I instantly felt below her. How could I show my face? How could I have any credibility? While other people are going away and getting the full college experience, I'll basically be in the same spot.
What disappoints me the most is that I won't be getting away like I hoped. Right now, things are crazy in Chicago. There violence is spiraling and it is claiming the lives of many youth, most recently 19 year old Kevin Ambrose (RIP). Negative thoughts filled my brain, such as if I will ever see success, will I be a failure, did I disappoint my family, will I make it to 21. I also thought about how my mother is moving to Urbana, Illinois and wants me to join her. Even after all I said about Chicago's violence, crime and Englewood's poverty and destruction, this is my home. I would not have wanted to grow up any other way than how I did. I grew up humbly and in a dangerous environment, but I cherish every experience that I have and lesson I learned while living the way I have. In retrospect, it wasn't even too bad. The problem now is not having my mother see me in mahogany. Of course, the move from Chicago will stop that from happening, but it will also take me from Chicago. Chicago is still very much a beautiful and entertaining place and I'm just not ready to leave, even with my life on the line. I have no say in when I die and I've been through experiences that make me not afraid to come across it. If I gotta die, so be it, but I won't die afraid. Not in my city, not in my home.
After much meditation, lone walks, thought, talk with friends and family, and lots of pick-up basketball, I find myself in a much better state than a week ago. I feel much more relaxed, healthy mindset, the one I was in before things piled up on me. I've accepted things I couldn't change and things look more clearer. I have decided to go to community college and I won't be ashamed of it. It's extremely cheap, I'll still be doing something with myself and if I grind like I plan to, I should be in the college of my choice in two years with an Associate's degree in my possession. I spent so much time judging myself compared to others that it was getting me down. I have to realize that I can still go where I want and be what I want, I'm just taking an alternate route. Sucks I'm not super athletic or have musical talent because I guarantee you you'd see me doing that as opposed to still being in school. But that's not how it is. Going to school is my way to the top. That's how I'll be on the top floor of a building in a suit with a glass of Hennessy and a cigar looking out into the city. I just have to stay focused and never get discouraged. I know in time, I'll get there.
Now for you underclassmen here's a guide to not be put in the same situation as me
May 1st was the deadline most students were given to make their admission deposits to secure their spot in a college/university. Many people were extremely excited to share what university they chose and how they can't wait to be there and others around them rejoiced with equable emotion. For me, that deadline came and passed like any other day. I didn't pick a college. Honestly, I couldn't pick a college. While other people are looking for roommates and are picking classes and going on orientations for their selected schools, I'm doing something that isn't that. And personally, I felt left out. I was looking forward to being able to pick a college and join in on all the fun like everyone else, but I couldn't and for a while it hurt a lot.
Now to answer "Why was I not able to pick a college?". I'll take your through my entire college process. Truthfully, I didn't have an organized college process. I remember my junior year all I heard from my counselors and teachers was to do research on schools and visit schools and ask questions to get a head start on the process. I did the very minimum on each, not going thoroughly in-depth into every school that interested me to get a better glimpse if fit me. When it came down to picking colleges, I feel victim to the "name-brand" generalization. A few of the schools I applied to were top notch universities (Georgetown, Cal-Berkeley, USC, UCLA (just in case I didn't get into USC) and I feel like an absolute goofy for applying to each. I didn't get into any of them. Not only did it not occur to me that those four are extremely hard to get into (Cal-Berkeley and UCLA are two of the hardest public universities to get into for an out-of-state resident). Georgetown and USC are by far my favorite schools and still are. I feel in love with Georgetown through their basketball team, coached by legendary John Thompson, Jr (now coached by his son JTIII). My sister Marquita was a huge basketball fan, especially college basketball. We watched many games together, mostly during tournament time and it was evident early that I feel in love with the Hoyas. From there, I fell in love with everything else about GTown, the culture, academics, history, the fact that they are almost a direct pipeline to the FBI (I always wanted to shoot someone in the butt and just flash my badass badge). Almost the same story with USC. I fell in love with their football team and especially Pete Carroll, the then-time coach who not only brought lots of success to the program but helped out young black men in the South Central LA district and I admired that. As I look deep into my heart however, I notice that I mostly applied to these schools I had no chance at because they were in far away places I wanted to be in (California and Washington, D.C.) and I wanted to see if one school would take a chance on a struggling, upcoming, young, black male from Englewood (aka affirmative action GASPS). Yeah yeah yeah. Label me ignorant, opportunistic, and silly but I would not have cared for your opinion of what you thought was right if one of those schools did roll the dice with me and accept me. I know the type of person I am and so do many of you. I know I could make myself worthy of being in a such a position. But back to reality, the cards didn't shake out that way.
With every other school I applied to, I believe University of Illinois-Champaign-Urbana was the only school I wanted to go to and even then, my mother wanted me to apply their because my sister lives in Urbana and is getting her Ph.D. once she finishes and defends her thesis in months to come. I've been on the campus numerous times, almost like I live there since I visit my sister often. Even then, I applied to their business school because that's what I want to major in and UIUC has a good business program. My mistake here was "good" wasn't the right word to describe it. It was "phenomenal". Little do people know UofI has the 14th best Business school in the entire nation according to one poll, better than most Ivy League schools. I didn't know that and I was shot down into a school I know I easily could've gotten into had I not applied to the business program. This was huge because UIUC was my fallback school. I made the mistake of not applying to any school in Chicago because I didn't want to be so close to home. What about the remaining schools you guys ask? Well, I only applied to schools that were offering merit-scholarships and free application fees. My family was going through a little financial trouble and another significant event (I'll let you guys know about it in a blog during the last week of school). I didn't want to pile up a bunch of fees on my mother and older siblings, so I just made it easy and applied to a lot of schools that waived application fees. All of those schools accepted me. All gave me scholarships as well. As successful as that sounds, it was just as heartbreaking. I'll take you down the list.
Drexel-$32,000 in scholarships and grants ($65,000 in tuition+room and board)
Howard-$10,000 in scholarships and grants ($45,000 in tuition not including room and board)
Butler-$25,000 in scholarships and grants ($49,000 in tuition not including room and board)
Dayton-$27,000 in scholarships and grants ($46,000 in tuition not including room and board)
Xavier-$30,000 in scholarships and grants ($44,000 in tuition not including room and board)
Indiana U-accepted me but did not notify me of financial reward online or through mail so they get the double middle fingers
So, on average, I was gonna be $100,000 in debt by the time I finished a 4-year degree in college not accounting if I wanted to pursue graduate school. I understand that very few people leave college without any debt but without being assured a job once I completed school and considering I didn't feel strong about any of those schools, it would be foolish of me to take on that much debt and possibly be unhappy.
Now you ask "Why didn't you apply for any scholarships?" Your better off making a judgement for yourself than asking me because I don't know. I messed up their. Had I been proactive in this department, a lot of the debt I was recently worried about could've dwindled significantly. I've been dealing with a lot this year, from family issues to personal issues to not tweaking in school so I can graduate. Applying for scholarships just didn't enter my mind. That's not an excuse though. Regardless of what I was going through, I should have been applying for every scholarship I qualified for. Shit is real out here.
April 30th and May 1st were probably the two of the three most stressful days of 2013 for me. Surrounded by so much instability and uncertainty, other than having to go to school those days, you were sure to find me sitting on the couch with a disappointed face. I've spoken to many on the topic, most telling me to do what's best for me which doesn't help any because I don't know what to do. Then there are the people who want me to go off and disregard the debt and get a new surrounding. Then you have those headed by my mom who wants me to stay home and go to community college.
The fact that things have gotten to the point where community college and staying at home was my best option hit me hard. I know I didn't mess up in school to where I had to and I know I worked way too hard to where that was the best I could do. To be honest, my view of community college wasn't positive, I stereotyped the people that went there unfairly. It's just, how could I tell people I'm going to community college when there are people going to Ivy Leagues, Howard, Northwestern, UIUC, NYU, USC and etc. I ran into my ex-girlfriend one day (who got into UofChicago, Yale, Brown, Princeton UPenn and Harvard) and asked her what school she's going to. She told me Brown, an Ivy League school. Before she could ask me where I was going, I got the hell out of dodge. I instantly felt below her. How could I show my face? How could I have any credibility? While other people are going away and getting the full college experience, I'll basically be in the same spot.
What disappoints me the most is that I won't be getting away like I hoped. Right now, things are crazy in Chicago. There violence is spiraling and it is claiming the lives of many youth, most recently 19 year old Kevin Ambrose (RIP). Negative thoughts filled my brain, such as if I will ever see success, will I be a failure, did I disappoint my family, will I make it to 21. I also thought about how my mother is moving to Urbana, Illinois and wants me to join her. Even after all I said about Chicago's violence, crime and Englewood's poverty and destruction, this is my home. I would not have wanted to grow up any other way than how I did. I grew up humbly and in a dangerous environment, but I cherish every experience that I have and lesson I learned while living the way I have. In retrospect, it wasn't even too bad. The problem now is not having my mother see me in mahogany. Of course, the move from Chicago will stop that from happening, but it will also take me from Chicago. Chicago is still very much a beautiful and entertaining place and I'm just not ready to leave, even with my life on the line. I have no say in when I die and I've been through experiences that make me not afraid to come across it. If I gotta die, so be it, but I won't die afraid. Not in my city, not in my home.
After much meditation, lone walks, thought, talk with friends and family, and lots of pick-up basketball, I find myself in a much better state than a week ago. I feel much more relaxed, healthy mindset, the one I was in before things piled up on me. I've accepted things I couldn't change and things look more clearer. I have decided to go to community college and I won't be ashamed of it. It's extremely cheap, I'll still be doing something with myself and if I grind like I plan to, I should be in the college of my choice in two years with an Associate's degree in my possession. I spent so much time judging myself compared to others that it was getting me down. I have to realize that I can still go where I want and be what I want, I'm just taking an alternate route. Sucks I'm not super athletic or have musical talent because I guarantee you you'd see me doing that as opposed to still being in school. But that's not how it is. Going to school is my way to the top. That's how I'll be on the top floor of a building in a suit with a glass of Hennessy and a cigar looking out into the city. I just have to stay focused and never get discouraged. I know in time, I'll get there.
Now for you underclassmen here's a guide to not be put in the same situation as me
1. Keep good grades.
Don't tweak. Turn in those projects. Do homework. Actually READ books. Be prepared. Don't foop on tests. I can't be any more clear. And it's not that hard, trust me, I been through it.
2. Research!
Obviously my biggest mistake of the college process. Before deciding on a school to apply to, research it. Analyze (Ode to Ms. Graf how I miss you so!) Look at whether it is public or private. How many students go there? What majors does it offer? What city/state is it in? Do research on that city/state. Is it safe? Is it an affordable place to live once you finish school? The economics? Job? Is it diverse? Hit up students who go there on social media sites to see how they like it and an insider to how classes are instructed, what is expected and the culture around the university/college. Know what you are getting into.
3. Visit schools
I didn't have the luxury of visiting a lot of schools but I wish I had. On days off, free weekends or during seasonal breaks, go on college visits. No better way to get an answer than from the source. Get a glimpse of the environment, sit in a class, talk to students and graduates up close. Take in the scenery. Get first-hand experience. Look at the dorms. Does it look feel like a place you wanna spend four years at?
4. Visit you counselors often
I visited my counselor Ms. Welstein almost twice a week. She answered my every question, helped me out when I was lost, let me in on scholarship opportunities and seminars on FAFSA, college visits, whatever. She was extremely helpful to me during my college process and I'm sure others feel the same about their counselors. They are there for a reason.
5. Adhere to deadlines
If a college gives you a Nov 1st or January 15th deadline, make sure your app is done by then. I know it is easy to get lackadaisical and procrastinate because you think you have ample time to complete it. But just like that English paper or Biology project you forgot about, it's due and you gotta get it done. Word of advice, have your app done weeks in advance, with transcripts and ACT/SAT scores sent in advance so there is no worry. You don't want to miss out on a school because you ran out of time.
6. Apply to scholarships
Everyone could use a little money, even if you have enough already. More doesn't hurt. Not many people get full rides to college and if you are one of the lucky few who do/did, congratulations. To everyone else, start looking for ways to pay for college. Want to know what's better than spending YOUR money? Spending other people's money of course. Take advantage of every opportunity out there for you to be as less financially stressed as you can possibly be while you attend college and get closer to your career.
7. Don't be anxious
While you are waiting for admittance letters, remember you still have other things to do like live. So you can take your hand out the mailbox and go ride a bike or something.
8. Admittance/Rejection
Probably one of the most rewarding or disappointing moments of the college process: finding out whether you got in your dream school or not. I'll let you in on something. Usually, if you got into a school, you'll get a packet with your letter of admittance, financial info, booklet, deposit statement etc. If you just get a flimsy letter, be ready to toss it. In the case of rejection, remember, that's just one school, and no matter how you felt about it, you will have other options. Chill.
9. Weigh everything out
Once you have your acceptances, weigh your options. Rank them. Make a Microsoft Excel Spreadsheet with tuition costs and scholarships broken down to a science to get a better visual. Which do you feel the strongest about? Which do your parents feel safer about you attending. Which is cheaper? Unfortunately, the latter is usually the determiner. But I believe in making the right choice for yourself. If you don't mind a little debt and you're confident your career will help you pay it off, shoot.
10. Make your decision and be proud
If you are going to your dream school, rejoice. If you aren't but you're still going to a school, still rejoice. Don't feel bad because someone is going to Harvard and you're going to IIT. Them going to Harvard doesn't guarantee them a more successful career, a better job (or an assured one at that), a better looking spouse, nothing. Wherever someone starts doesn't necessarily mean they will stay there either. Worry about yourself and be proud. You've made it a long way and it's going to pay off soon. Keep chuggin' along.
11. TURNAHHHHHHHH!
Welp, I've gotten all I've got to say out. I now leave you with a couple songs from my homies Terry Johnson (UIC man), Jakori and Alex Smith and Flwaless. Enjoy and thank you.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)