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)
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