War of Nations

Today’s the day; I am so pumped! It’s game day, this is the biggest day of the year. Literally everyone waits for this day and it’s finally here, I can't wait to see the game on tv. I can smell the anticipation in the air as I walk down the street, there's only a few people left on the street making their usual rounds before they go into their houses to watch the big game tonight. I wonder who’s going to be playing this year...I did hear about that new recruit from Israel, if he’s playing I think he’ll probably get  a win. I can feel the electricity in the air, I need to hurry home before the game starts, I’m running out of time.

“Hey kid!” A voice behind me shouts. I stop and turn to address the nice man in the camo outfit.

“Yes, sir?” I reply with excitement leaking into my voice.

“Shouldn’t you be at home, it’s pretty late?”

“I’m on my way right now sir, I don't want to be late for curfew and the game is about to start soon. Are you gonna watch?”

“Definitely, did you hear about that new Israeli recruit? His stats are good but, that rookie from Africa already got his team a win last year, so he’ll be tough to beat,” The man said.

“True. But there’s a lot of talent this year, and people love to root for their favorites like that girl from italy who totally wasted the competition a couple years back.”

“Hmm, well I guess you’ll just have to go home and watch the game. The street lights are almost on kid, it’s getting dark.”

I looked around and noticed the bulbs in the street lamp nearest us starting to flicker. Time to go, “Bye, sir.” The man waved me away, I looked back at him walking to his vehicle wondering how he could stand to be near that thing everyday, the color was so boring! He was right though, I totally forgot about the rookie from Africa, man the game this year is going to be so awesome. And if that girl from Italy is competing than I already know who I’m betting on.

“Hey!” Said a female voice in a car cruising alongside me.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I asked kindly.

“Good, hey, aren’t you --?”

“--Late? Yeah, I am. I got caught up shopping than I was chatting with a Camo-guy about the game tonite.”

“No way! It’s gonna be awesome right?! Who you thinkin’ is gonna win this one?”

“I don't know, at first I thought the newbie from Israel, but I don't know if the girl from Italy is making a comeback...if so I’m going italian for sure!”

“Safe bet, but if that’s the case, I’m guessing you didn't hear about the ringer being brought in for Spain.” The girl said with an excited gleam in her eye.

“No! I didn’t hear about the ringer from Spain, but do you seriously think this person could win?” I asked incredulously.

“I don’t know, his stats are pretty convincing and I wouldn’t be surprised if he takes home gold.”

“Guess I gotta get home so I can watch and see for myself.”

“Same here! Catch you later.” The girl said as she hit the gas in her car and sped off.

Everyone is so excited about the game tonight, and why not, this is probably gonna be the best one. And maybe the last one too, which would be sad because this is the best event of the year. But people say it’s not nice or it’s too violent or that it shouldn’t even be called a sport. People all over the world are just so sensitive. So what if there’s a little blood involved and so what if a few people don't survive, that’s what makes the game so much fun! The suspense! And anyway it’s just TV. All you need to win is a good Trump card and you’re good to go.

The streetlights are almost all the way on now. Running down the street, feeling the wind slap my face, I still can’t seem to bank my excitement for the game tonight! I turn onto my street and see the neighbor who lives across from my house wave at me, I wave back.

He yells out, “You’re late!”

“I know, but not by much,” I yell back without stopping, until I’m panting on my doorstep fishing out my key. Which proves to be unnecessary as the door suddenly opens in front of my face and my mother pulls me through the entrance.

“Do you know how much trouble you could be in?” My mother asks me.

“Yes, but the stores were really packed today and I got distracted by some people on the way. I’m sorry.”

“Did you get what I asked for?”

“Yep, five T-shirts with ‘DT Card’ in big bold on the front of them. One for you and dad, one for me, two for the twins,” I said having finally caught my breath.

“Good go change into yours, your dinner is in the living room on the table, we’re just about to turn to the game,” Mom says, happily.

I grab my shirt and take the stairs two at a time to my room and change my shirt. Just as I’m straightening the shirt on my body I see the street lamp outside my window light up and stay lit. And just like every other night following the street lights, the automated voice rings out across the neighborhood.

“Curfew has officially started. If you are not in your homes at this time you will be arrested, stay in your homes until the designated release time. Thank you.”

I ran back downstairs and sat in the living room with my family, who all had their t-shirts on.

“I was perfectly on time, Mom,” I said, while my mother was closing the blinds. I could see Camo-guy from earlier doing his typical nightly patrols being followed by his buddy who operated the brownish Tank vehicle. I still think that’s such an ugly color. He was holding his gun now, he wasn’t when I was talking to him, but that was before curfew. Clearly, anyone out after curfew is a criminal and may need to be handled accordingly.

“Still cutting it a little close. Doesn't matter now, eat your food,” my mother said as she sat down next to my dad and turned the TV to the game.

“Yes, I’m so excited,” said both the twins at once.

“Shh,” my dad says as he turns up the volume of the TV, he loves the opening speech done by the president.

And now introducing President of the greatest nation on Earth, and founder of our most beloved game, War of Nations...President Donald Trump!

The announcer’s words bring about cheers in my household as President Trump explains the rules of the game, but he explains them every year; my family and I know them by heart: War of Nations consists of one person from each nation all around the world who will be a representative of said nation. Americans will not participate in the game because we have already proven to be the strongest nation in the world. The game will take place every year, and the winner will win an alliance for their nation with the United States, which will become void upon arrival of a new winner. This alliance means that the United States will help you during World War III, a war which is called to a truce during the time of the game. The game lasts for two weeks, which ever nation is the last left alive is the winner.

The rules are stated every year. World War III is happening currently, so the game is to decide who we’re gonna help. But no nation wins the game without a Trump Card. The Trump Card is a sign of favoritism he gives to one of the nation reps in the game, the reason he picks them always varies. And it’s possible to win without one...if you’re really good. But not likely. This year the Trump Card is going to the Israeli competitor...at least I know he won’t die the first day of the games. This year’s game is going to be so great! I picked up my bowl of hot porridge, leaned back on the couch and settled in for a long night of War of Nations. Now this, is the American dream realized, all thanks to President Donald Trump. Hail Trump!

False Love

Eros the god of love, that curses us with this wretched emotion.

He, the child of Hope and Disillusion, seems as though presenting a gift when it’s really a curse.

The god is neither poor nor rich, but a medium that satisfies him, he is a Daimōn.

Residing in the deepest part of the mind, he gives you hope, only to make the illusion crack like glass and laugh when you are cut by the shards.

The god of love looks desirable, not beautiful and not ugly.

When anyone lays eyes on Eros, they will see what their heart desires, but not how the image ripples apart like the surface of water.

He wears charm like a beloved worn-out sweater and spews promises so radiant, they blind you.

Once you’re in the warm embrace of Eros, the arms grow cold, and the charm fades.

His promises of “love and forever” were really just “like and for now.”

Eros is desirable, too desirable to be with only one.  

The hope you once had was only false and the shards of broken dreams cut deeper.

Eros whispers promises just as the Prince of Lies whispers deceit.

Charm is deceptive and Eros is desirable...far too desirable to be involved with.

Run far and run fast to keep your heart safe, from the god of love, Eros, who silently awaits.

Eros the god of love, who dallies in human affairs, has given us a curse that will last eternal all through the years.

Girl Code: Decoded

What is girl code? Why is it important? Well, as a wise girl once said, "it keeps us from killing each other." I've always that girl code was an important part of life, I still do. The first time I truly recognized as it something of importance is when someone close to me broke it. I looked at her differently and it changed our relationship. If it changed for the better or worse, that depends on how you look at. But that moment changed a lot for me and me realize how important girl code truly is.

Visualize it in your mind and decide what you would do in this situation. It’s the last week of school; you see him sitting there and you know what you have to do. You’ve been crushing on this guy for over half the school year and this is your last chance. All right; it’s go time: you see him get up, and you slowly, but surely, make your way over to him. You tap his shoulder, smile, and make small talk before getting to the heart of the matter. This is your moment: “Hey, so I was wondering if we could hang out this weekend.”

His attention is now laser focused on you. “Oh, you mean like a date?”

Okay, this is going well. “Yeah, we could go to a movie or to a restaurant or...” You trail off because now he’s shaking his head. That’s when you know it’s coming, that crushing rejection that you were already expecting is upon you.

“I can't, I’m sorry but I have a girlfriend. Actually, she’s right over there.”  You turn your head to look at the girl who you just know is prettier than you, but when you lay eyes on the girl in question, you feel something completely different. The feelings of rejection and sadness have been replaced with betrayal and shock. Your best friend, the one who knew about your crush, teased you mercilessly, and convinced you it would be a good idea to go for him, is his girlfriend as of yesterday. Do you:

a.) Congratulate them and wish them well.

b.) Tell her you are no longer friends.

c.) Maintain your friendship and never again reveal anything personal about yourself.

d.) Tell her she broke girl code and force her to pick between the guy and you.

e.) Sweep the whole situation under the rug and pretend it didn't happen.

What would you do in a situation like this? Remember, this situation is one hundred percent possible, so don't answer what you think you should do, answer what you would actually do. Girl code was intended to prevent these types of situations and spare women unnecessary heartbreak.

The code by which our women operate is a silent code hardwired into our core beings. Girl code travels everywhere we go and is sometimes the reason for the drama in our lives. High school: those drama-filled four years of your life train you in more ways than anyone can possibly imagine, and it’s one place where no one escapes unscathed. Whether your best friend is dating your ex, or you went out with your friend's crush, the code has always and will continue to be a part of our lives, whether it be in high school or the real world. So how does one survive in high school or the world beyond? You just have to break down the code.

What is girl code? You could say that it’s just a bunch of unspoken rules that females automatically follow because they just know they’re supposed to. But that’s not exactly true. The code can be taught, it can be learned, but it’s not automatic. Truth be told, the whole idea is left to interpretation, and it changes throughout generations.

Sitting in a stark white room at a round table, eighteen-year-old Kat O’Neil and I talked about what girl code means to her. As her eyes wander around the room, I try my best to keep up with her fast pace. “Girl code to me is this thing where, basically, a girl doesn’t even have to talk to another girl to indicate that she likes somebody or to ‘get your hands off my man that I don't have but I really want.’” Now, just because this is how Kat interprets girl code, does that mean this is the absolute definition? Well, 32-year-old Ebony Miller interprets girl code just a little bit differently: “To me, girl code would be just having that respect and integrity for other women and for yourself. And having morals as well, like it should be natural to know how to treat other women and yourself.”

Eighteen and thirty-two is quite the age difference. There’s a lot of wisdom to be gained in fourteen years, wisdom Ebony has that Kat may not have achieved yet. But both of their individual interpretations have the same underlying message: have a mutual respect for your fellow women.

As we all know, respect is earned, not given; just like girl code is learned, not automatic. It’s like a skill that lies dormant inside you until the right or wrong situation arises that triggers the codes inside you. Something has to happen, for the codes to be recognized, so what exactly does that entail? It’s different for everyone and for some, like Kat, it was a bit harder. Kat slid her glance toward her feet, recalling the moments that girl code resonated with her. “I just figured it out on my own, kind of, because I had a situation all through fourth grade all about girl code and I was like, ‘Okay I guess I get it now.’ I didn't have any friends because I didn't understand the code. Then I finally did and that’s when I became my own woman.” In elementary school, Kat had to learn girl code the hard way because sometimes it takes awhile for the codes to click in our heads. And because of that, it took her a while to make female friends. Thirty-four-year-old Jameelah Bashir responded differently than Kat when asked who taught her about girl code. She replied that nobody taught her, “it just came [naturally] when you have a group of girlfriends.” This code can be taught and learned from other women around you, but if you have more male friends than female friends, it might take awhile for the codes to sink in. But if that’s the case, should girl code continue to be acknowledged by women, or is it outdated?

“I think it should be acknowledged because when you’re oblivious like I was, it kind of makes it really hard to make friends and to understand other girls’ feelings. I mean there are some girls who are really into being friends with other guys; usually it’s because they don't understand and they need someone that also doesn’t understand, so they go for guys, which makes a lot of sense.” I looked at Kat thinking that she was completely right on some level. One of the reasons girls have a lot of male friends could be that they don't fully understand the code, and having someone around that the code doesn’t apply to is really liberating. The pressure of having to follow these unspoken rules is large. So as a full-grown woman, should you still acknowledge the codes of your childhood? “Absolutely!” Ebony exclaims, “I believe that it’s every woman's responsibility to conduct themselves in a certain way; to treat others the way they want to be treated.” Girl code is a sacred bond of trust that shouldn’t be broken; treat others how you wish to be treated. That’s a code that should be recognized by all people, not just women.

The code is there to prevent us from hurting each other, but sometimes we end up with that one friend who breaks the code. So, is it worth it to be mad, or does it hurt when someone close to us breaks the code? Jameelah responds that not only does it hurt, but it changes the relationship. Speaking from her own experience, she says, “Yes,[it hurt] and it broke a trust I had with them. I forgave them, but the relationship wasn't the same.” The code may be a bunch of unspoken rules, but they are rules in place for a reason. As Kat began to answer if one of her friends hurt her by breaking the code, her eyes wandered all around the room, darting away from me, as she ran her nails on the desk. “Definitely yes, it was definitely shocking. It’s not really hurtful at first, it’s more shocking than anything. It’s kind of like ‘Wow, I just can't believe you just did that. You’re my friend and that happened.’ I felt more shocked than anything and then the hurt finally came and then the tears and everything. Really, exactly how I expected it to be.” Getting hurt by someone you trust is one of the worst pains someone can possibly feel, but just because we get hurt doesn’t mean we’re not guilty of hurting others.

When we’re hurt by the people we care about, that sucks. Of course, then you know that they’ll reap consequences, whether it be from you or the universe; we know it will happen. Naturally the same goes for the reverse; if you break girl code then you will reap consequences in some form or another. When asked if she had ever broken girl code and what the consequences were, Kat replied, “I think so because the girl that liked the guy that I liked, really liked him; and I would tell her about the stuff that we would do sometimes, and I think she was mildly jealous of what I had told her. It doesn’t matter now because she’s dating him, but I asked her and she said, ‘Yea I was a little bit jealous.’ So I think I did, mildly, but I still did. And the guy I liked fell for my best friend, that’s what happened.” Not only did she break girl code in the favor of a guy, but the consequence that she reaped was losing the guy, to her best friend no less. Breaking the code always has a consequence, whether it comes right away or weeks away, a punishment is coming. But once you break the code, should you feel regret? “Honestly, not really because I don't think we would have worked out anyways,” says Kat. Looking on the brighter side of situations does help us with feelings of regret, sometimes to the point of not feeling regret at all.

But then you have to wonder, why it is that girls break girl code in the first place? I mean, really, what is the number one reason girls break the sacred codes? “A man. Jealousy,” says Jameelah. When a guy has a girl questioning if girl code is really worth it, that’s how you know she’s about to break it. I sometimes don't get it, why do girls break girl code when they know they shouldn’t? “... It’s like that feeling of when you're on a diet,” Kat begins her analogy,“and it’s kind of like, ‘You know, I can't eat this but I really want to, and I know what it’s gonna do, but I still really want to.’ And I think that’s just the only reason why we do it, it’s because we know it’s going to happen, we know people are going to get mad at us, but it’s just we’re in that moment.” I guess that’s just the truth of it; we know it’s wrong but we’re just caught up in the moment. It’s not until the deed is done that we feel the aftershock.

It’s hard to follow rules that we can't see or sometimes can't even remember; let’s just break it down, shall we. “Times have changed. I’m 32 but I know the first thing for me and my girlfriends was never to date each other’s boyfriends. That was our number one rule; I felt like my friend, whoever she dates that’s her personal life and her business. And my boyfriends are my business so we never shared boyfriends, that was off limits,” says Ebony, reminded of her years growing up. Another rule she felt was important to establish was to not date the “ brothers. Like I didn’t believe in dating my girlfriends’ brothers. Nor did my brothers date any of my friends.” The last code she stated is definitely an all-important code that both Kat and Jameelah agree with, and that is loyalty. Loyalty among girls is so important because when you break girl code, you break your loyalty, and that breaks the trust in the relationship. Once trust is gone, the relationship will never be the same.

The codes are in place to keep the trust between us women, but is that a justifiable reason to have this unspoken code of honor? Kat states, “The reason for girl code is so we don't end up killing each other,” she starts with a straight face trying not to laugh. “I think we need to have this little telepathy thing between us women and I think it is justifiable because I don't want blood on my hands and I don't think anyone else does either. So, I’m glad that we have this little secret thing that we women have.” Aside from the bloodshed she speaks of, she’s right. The code exists as a way for us to communicate without actually talking. I’m not the first to say or notice that all girls don't like each other; that’s where the code comes in. What is girl code? It’s something where we don't have to talk to each other, we just have to have a mutual respect for each other. It’s having a mutual respect for our fellow women and not falling into the stereotype of backbiting and scheming. Girl code allows us to all coexist in a peaceful state. Samurais had a code of honor and so do girls; our code isn’t written but we follow it just the same. As long as we have that, we’ll be a step closer to rising above all the petty drama of the world and changing it for the better. That’s girl code.

Letter From the Editor...

Hey everyone! I just want to give you guys a heads-up, a bit delayed but well...better late than never. For those of you that read my post on the Black Lives Matter movement, you are aware that that is not or was not normal content on this blog. This however, will change. There will still be times when I write about college, but expect to read about my opinion on other things. Also, I am totally open to the opinions of others, that being said, please comment on the posts! I want to hear how you reacted to what you read, I want to know your thoughts, but I do also want you to be respectful. Share the blog with your friends and family, tell them to express how they feel about it.

My last post was something I felt very strongly about and the things that happened to me that inadvertently shaped me as a person. I am aware that there are people who will disagree with the things that I write, and I am aware of the possibility that writing about such things, paints a target for negativity on me. But for those of you not aware, I will fight back. If you want to have a debate with me, we can do that and be respectful, however if all you want to do is be negative for the sake of negativity, you will be deleted. I will also take requests as well. So, if there’s a question you have about something and you want my opinion on it, then I will write about it. Even if it’s something you feel embarrassed about and think it’s stupid, I can answer you privately or I can blog about it. It’s really whichever you specify to me when you write to me.

Obviously, I’ll still write about things that I want to and maybe throw a couple of longer pieces and interviews in the mix. But this is just another way in which I’m trying to get you, the audience, more involved. So, as always, I will post every new blog on my Facebook for those who are my friends, and I would be ever-so grateful if you would share it and tag people in it to get more involved in the process. Also, post it on your twitter if you have one, Instagram, and all the other many social media sites that keep us “connected.” (If you know me well, you know I’m going to address why I put that in quotes at some point. Just not now.)

All of you are amazing and I thank you so very much for reading. I do so hope you will continue to read the blog and in the future I hope that you interact with me more!

All Lives Matter? Cool, Prove It!

Mutt, mongrel, half-breed, nigger, gator-bait, wench, buck, slave, black bitch. Why do you talk like a white girl? Why do you act like a white boy? Why are you so ghetto? Can I touch your hair? You’re such an Oreo...

I’m guilty. I’ve been judged, tried, and convicted for the worst crime possible...being a black woman in America. When I was 9, I moved to a predominately white area, I didn’t notice it until I stepped into my third grade class and saw all the white faces staring back at me. Looking back at that year, I recall things that my friends and I would do in school or in daycare and I noticed that whenever we did something bad, I was the only one in trouble. As an unforeseen result, I closed up completely in middle school, until I met my first bully. It was my best friend’s boyfriend. I already didn’t like him because his personality was way too abrasive, but then I hated him when he opened his mouth. Words like, “nigger and black bitch” were always saved just for me. The first time, I snapped and I hit him. Not my finest moment, my parents were surprised but they understood why I lost myself like that.

I thought it was only students that pick on kids, but I had a science teacher once in seventh grade. I had a friend in that class, a bi-racial young lady I was very close with. Now, we sat across the room from each other, and there were two white young ladies that sat right next to each other in the front of the classroom near the teacher. They would always “whisper” to each other back and forth, when I say “whisper” I mean the kind of whisper you can hear from the back of the room. The teacher never said anything to them, my friend and I would mouth words at each other across the room, immediately we get called out for being slackers and not paying attention. Granted, I shouldn’t have been talking in class, but I just found that interesting, but nothing to trip over. I did trip in high school though. My middle school bully was there, and lo and behold, he didn’t even remember me. He dated my best friend and tormented me, and he couldn’t even remember me...the icing on the cake was this, when the school made us watch anti-bullying videos, he was in every single one telling people that bullying was wrong. I couldn’t believe that, I laughed at everyone because I couldn’t take it seriously watching him knowing the pain he put me through in middle school. Oh, but high school was no picnic either. It happened my sophomore year, that was when I realized that people really do make life decisions based on skin color.

My best friend was a white male, we were very close. I told him everything and he told me everything. I developed a crush on him; I learned why people call it a crush, that’s for sure. He told me that he could never see himself dating a black girl, and that he definitely couldn’t see himself dating me because we were too close. I chose not to focus on the “black” part because I was hurt enough getting friendzoned for something I could control so I wasn’t even going to think about the aspect I couldn’t. Imagine my surprise when he started dating a girl he had known for years, who the week prior, he had said they were like siblings...I was completely floored. It didn’t stop there though, he ended up dating my best friend, a blond blue-eyed girl. To say I was devastated in an understatement; my sophomore year was the year I developed a defense mechanism that I still use to this day. I have a very sharp tongue and an ice wall around my heart. Put simply: I don’t let people in like I used to. As a matter of fact, I can count on one hand the number of people I have let in, and two of them are not blood relatives. But you know, blood is a funny thing. I’m sure you’ve heard “blood is thicker than water.” The actual phrase is, “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.”Meaning, people you choose to let in will have a stronger bond with you than those you may share blood with. I’ve found that to be true on more than one occasion.

I have two cousins that I adore more than I could properly describe. I didn’t know a nine year old could actually hurt my feelings. Laugh if you want, but when this little girl that I held as a baby and fawned over, looked at me and asked me, in all seriousness, “Why do you talk like a white girl?” I looked at her face and bit my tongue. I heard brakes screech in my head and my thought process slowed. I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t tell you what I said back I was so shocked. But when her and her brother, when those two 9-year-old kids went up to my dad, their favorite uncle, and asked him “Why do you let your daughter hang out with white kids?” I’ll be honest, my palm was twitching a bit, and not because of them, but because I wanted to slap their parents. I couldn’t believe that was the crap they were learning at home. The ice wall around my heart got thicker that day, I was 16.

By senior year, I learned that words were weapons and I learned how to use mine. I had four “show friends” and three real friends. “Show friends,”  were the ones I hung out with at school, at one point I thought they were real but slowly over the year, they gave me the freeze, which was fine I learned who my real friends were. The first incident that disgusted me that year was my ex-friend from my sophomore year, the one I mentioned previously, he had a newly formed opinion about me. I found out that he had thought about what would've happened if he had decided to date me, his main reason was this: my body was “fuckable.” His words. This is what I got from that, “You don't really want to date me, but you wanna have sex with me. Do I look like a bed wench to you?” In that moment though, I realized that is how a lot of men see black women. I’ve had guys start conversations with “I’ve never been with a black woman before.” And? Like what response do they expect? What am I to say to that? I just can't believe the things people say or the things people think is acceptable!

The second thing to happen had me in such a rage...in a word, I was volatile. There was a bi-racial boy at my school, a year below me, he always rubbed me the wrong way. That boy had a mouth on him; I hope he learns how to filter his words because if not his mouth is gonna write a check his ass can't cash. He told a another black female student that he could name off a list of women who had bigger butts than black women. The first thing wrong, is that he shouldn't even be making comments about her body, let alone have the audacity to compare her to others. The situation got worse when a white student decided to bandwagon and proceed to name of girls. The bi-racial boy then made a joke about how dark she was. She cried in the bathroom...

Cruelty exists in a number of ways. Racism exists in a number of ways. Prejudice exists in a number of ways. We live in a world where young black boys are shot in the streets like dogs by those who are supposed to protect us from injustice. We live in a world where young black girls are violently yanked out of their seats and dragged to the floor for being on a cellphone in class. We live in a world where little black children are shot for waving around toy guns in the park. We live in a world where my bi-racial nephews are called niggers before they hit the age of ten. We live in the world where it’s a crime to be different. Society may be evolving, but for those of us still faced with racial injustice everyday of our lives, we still live in a world where a 14-year-old black boy was lynched for whistling at a white woman. Tell me, what kind of world is that?

“#BlackLivesMatter.” I’ve been hearing about this movement a lot the past year and I expect to hear more in the coming year. The controversy over this movement is so interesting to me. Whenever I talk to someone who supports the movement, there’s always someone who counters by saying all lives matter. My response to “all lives matter” is this: that was never up for debate. There is nothing in that phrase that is left to interpretation, all lives do matter. But when the people who are supposed to protect our lives start ending them...it appears that to some, all lives do not matter and a lot of the time those are black lives being taken. Black lives matter exists because we are being treated as if we do not matter. People can shout that all lives matter, but when the media, the courts, the judges, and the cops, act like this is irrelevant, then yes, society needs a reminder.

Racism is a toxin in our society and it is slowly but surely killing us. And the saddest part is that it’s happening in our own community! We need to squash that. How can we expect others to do something that we ourselves don't even do. Be the change you want to come forth. The first step is taking; the time for silence is well and done. Speak up! In 2016, I will be 19, by the time my daughter is 19 I don't want this to be an issue. Let’s all try and make that happen.

Dead Week!!

           Hey everyone! Yes, I know, I'm late. I apologize but I did tell you to expect that. This week was dead week, I had no idea what that was at the beginning of Monday but the meaning definitely made sense by Wednesday. In high school, at the end of the semester and sometimes the quarter (bare with me, I may have forgotten) you have a little experience known as finals! Well, dead week is the week before finals, the week where everyone is studying to the point of exhaustion and rushing to get things done. The week where everyone is freaking out and stressing over their grades to the point of being emotionally and mentally dead. Sounds like fun, right? Wrong! There's basically only one way to survive dead week...it's pretty crazy so just hear me out. It's a little weird and a lot of high school students may not be familiar with the concept so here goes...STUDY!
          I know, it's pretty crazy but it's really helpful, no but seriously, study you guys. Do your homework when it' assigned and try to work ahead if you can and study repeatedly. Studying does not have to be intense reading and highlighting, it could be just going over notes or practicing with flash cards. Also, learning how to be a multitask is a very valuable skill that will do you well in life, not just school.
          Also, this may seem kind of obvious, but show up to class. Your attendance is crucial people! In college, it's great that you get to pick your classes and what time you go to them, so since you picked the times you can go, tell me why you decide not to go? If you think you can still maintain a decent grade on tests and homework without attending class, that's on you. But remember, you're paying for these classes and you signed up for the specific time, you have to be responsible for yourself, your parents are not there to wake you up. Go to class! College is not a place to just party all the time, that can be done without a $23,000 bill at the end of the year, don't you think? It's you life and your decision, but make one you're not going to regret further down the line.
       So, you want to survive dead week? Well, go to class, study, and do your homework and try to work ahead and you might be one of the only un-dead beings in your campus!

Stick To the Status Quo!

             Alright, where are my peeps who actually know where this song is from? If you know, points for you, if you don't, relax it's not your generation. Ironic because naturally, I would never advise you to stay in your comfort zone, in order to grow you have to test your limits. So, what's the point of the status quo if you're just going to leave it anyway? Well, I see it more as a safe space to come back to after testing your limits to the best of your abilities. It's getting back to that one thing you may have forgotten that you love so much. Okay, I'll admit, I'm kind of a nerd: my safe space is Microsoft Publisher in the world of formatting. After three years working on the best school magazine ever (cough cough Getchell Charge) formatting became an extension of myself in a way. Dedicating so many hours to that program formatting my articles and the articles of others, it became the best way to show my creativity. Being away from something that I love for so long, I forgot how sucked in I could get. One of my classes asked us to work in a group to make a poster on a resource at school. My group chose International Study, I did my part of publisher. I thought to challenge myself with a blank page instead of a template, just to see if I still had my "editor's touch." I'm relieved to say it never left and I can pull it back up to the front of my mind whenever it's needed. I honestly can't explain how much I love being in my zone doing something familiar that I love.
             That being said, the lesson here is simple: Remember who you are and who you want to be. In high school, you plan out what you want to do once you graduate, you plan out what kind of person you want to be, but you may forget about the person you are now. Don't!! College is a place to reinvent yourself, that much is true, but don't forget the person you were. That person made you who you are and helped you prepare for the future you are going to embark on. Change is good but always remember what took place before. You can learn a lot from your past and the wisdom of others, don't take those things for granted. Remember the simple things that you  used to get so much joy and pleasure from; you don't have to grow out of everything! Try new things, change up your image if you want to, but always remember where you came from. It's okay to break free, to soar and fly, because there's not a star in heaven that you cant reach. But it's also good to go back to the status quo every once in a while.