Cleaning House

Ever get to that point where you know something has to change or you are going to spiral into worthlessness?

Yeah, that's been me for about two weeks now.

This feeling isn't a new one to me. I've been through periods before where I just get overwhelmed with life and the uncertainties of the future and think that there is nothing but failure and sadness down the road. Often, I try to escape these feelings and emotions with the bottle; my old best friend: alcohol. I would liquor it up for a good deal of days and then be pulled out of my rut by my own disgust in myself. Most of my life isn't spent in these bipolar swings of emotions. Most of the time I am carefree and happy, even childlike.

I've only had two episodes in my lifetime where things got out of hand. Once, I was stopped from making the most selfish decision I have ever made by the one and only DZ Dollaz: Dan Zwilling. I don't like to talk, or hell, even write, about it as I think it makes me look pitiful and weak but I think that admission helps explain why he is such an important person in my life and probably always will be. The other time, my cure took the form of taking the first real steps towards making a dream into reality: leaving the Midwest.

Lately, I have been forced to face the onset of another bad experience (mood, depression, despair... whatever) without the old friend, booze. Mainly because of monetary reasons (I am completely broke, like, the actual definition of the word "bankrupt" has a picture of me next to it) has kept me away from drinking. Waiting for the bus to go to one of my jobs has me often watching other individuals, who I am assuming are poverty stricken, drinking and talking to themselves and I wonder how close to that state am I. Will I fall that far? I beg not to and set my mind not to but sometimes I can't escape how similar I am to them.

I'm not an alcoholic and, hopefully, will never become one. It's true that my family has a history of alcohol abuse but I have always believed that it was something that my current generation had the ability to avoid.

Hah, late at night when I'm alone I always start thinking about the string of bad luck I've had with meeting (how can I put this without coming off as shallow or some word that will express what I don't want this to be read as?) guys who last. Art has nearly faded away as I think our last exchange in person may very well have been the last ever, Michael is definitely a thing of the past, Jonathan is as well, Kris was like a blip in the radar, I ran over Dustin, Patrick has this little bit of lingering taint - most likely just because he is fucking around with one of the guys on my soccer team and I still haven't appeased the vengeance side of me in regards to him, Kenny is also already beginning to fade away, Cole is something else right now entirely.

I had been hanging out with Cole for, I think, almost two months now? I know if I really want the date, all I need to do is find out when my friend, Jennifer, came to Seattle as he and I met the day before. Even while I had been going on a few random dates with Kenny I had been doing much more with Cole. I think that a part of us was ruined by me (it seems as if everything I touch I ruin!) when I let him know that I had been going on dates with someone from my team and that I just wanted us to be friends. I didn't stick to just the friends part like I either should or should not have. Something that we talked about was that Cole might have started wanting to be around me more just because he knew I was becoming unattainable or just something he couldn't have. Now that Kenny and I are no longer doing anything, it seems like things have shifted back into what they were before where I was always following Cole around letting him control the next time we see each other and that my being around was just a little novelty and not anything really of importance to him. Do I need to say that someone else is trying to get into my pants to get him to like me again? Is that even right?

And in any event, I was the one that just wanted to be friends right? Why then, do I get jealous when I think other guys are hitting on him or if he goes away for awhile and I can't help but think he has met someone else or hooked up with someone else and that eventually I will be asked to "just be friends" and he will really mean it. Do I have the right at all to want more?

I have been around the block, unfortunately, so I am not new to the relationships that men like us have.

I'm just so tired of a lot of it. I feel old trapped in a twenty-something body with the maturity of a thirteen year old.

I've dramatically increased my activity level to cope with my down state as of late. Well, there was no money for alcohol so I had to do something!

My outlook took a turn today when I received monetary help from my step dad and mom. I can now afford food! Who would have thought. I won't lie and say I didn't consider going out tonight, or sometime soon, to celebrate, but I squashed that line of thinking when I realized that I was only perpetuating the cycle.

I have been telling myself that I just need to focus on the future. I, honestly, am in the best position ever to get myself into graduate school and I even have the motivation to make it happen. All of which I lacked when I graduated undergrad.

I have always told myself that I don't need anyone and that in the end, I will only have myself. If that's true, then I will have failed at one of the most meaningful things in life: finding friends to share living with.

Maybe not everyone has someone they are meant to be with, and maybe I'm just one of those someones.

One Year

As of August 27th, 2008, I have officially lived in Seattle for one year.

I'd be lying if I said I was the same person that I was when I left Columbia. So many things about myself have changed (and I don't really feel the need to lay them out here as you can get a pretty accurate measure of what has changed about me just by reading my blog).

As of now, I feel like I'm floundering when I should be feeling like a million bucks.

I finally landed an internship that is designed to get me into grad school and I even get paid for it! The setbacks: low hours, and really, right now all I am doing is insurance crap for athletes.

Maybe it's just my mood (why aren't the endorphins kicking in!?) and maybe today isn't a good day to write this entry even though I've been putting this off for awhile.

What is a fact, though, is that I love living in the city. I don't see myself going anywhere else anytime soon even if my "floundering" feelings tend to give me wanderlust or homesickness.

I am where I'm supposed to be and although I'm poor as shit (especially right now) I know that things are on the up and up.

I just got to figure out how to make things happen.

And I think I need some M&Ms.

Whewwww

It's been forever since I have written on this thing. I've been busy. Or, uhh, not so much busy, but having a lot of fun doing anything and everything.

I'm not ready for putting my thoughts into words yet, but I should be soon.

However, I do have an interesting little story:

This past weekend seemed like the weekend of birthday parties. I went to two, each on a different night. The Saturday night party had something totally weird happen.

The party was for a guy I worked and lived with who I met at City Year. He is staying on to do another year of service and lives with a bunch of girls who are pretty good friends of mine. I went because it was starting early enough to be a good pre-party location before going out for the night. The fella and I aren't really that close of friends, but I do love the girls I know that he lives with now. I also suspected to know a lot of the other guests who were going to show up.

The theme for this party was circus. I didn't dress up, but there were plenty of bearded ladies, genies, tigers, tiger trainers, carnies, etc... I was one of the few lames not in costume. But I was full of booze! So I feel I made up for my lack of cool clothes. I also, for once, brought alcohol to share. Yeah, I'm a cheap ass.

Part way through the night, I am sitting on the front porch reminiscing, making fun of, and laughing at plenty of people/things/nouns when we notice this guy coming across the street. He's clearly already trashed. He introduces himself and starts going on about the party and asking if it's a private one. Everything about him reminds me of home. He is completely like the guys I grew up with and even a lot of the guys I would hang out every once and awhile in college (not my close friends, more like Dan's friends).

I start by giving him shit. He takes it like a man, which gains some respect from me because I can be pretty... umm... obnoxious when I'm drunk and feel like my territory is being invaded (yeah, I know, this isn't even my house, but damn if I'm acting like it is). He has a beer with him and sits down on the steps while the harassment continues. By this time, I'm the only one harassing him. A friend, Sarai is sitting with us and there are a few of our other friends behind us in their own conversations. A girl we don't know comes over not too long after he sits down.

Turns out, she's his wife. He doesn't believe in wearing his wedding ring. They are 25. He's in the Army. They are visiting friends who live right across the street and he has a habit of running off when he's drunk.

I no longer care if he's there anymore. He seems harmless enough, so I start talking to his wife. Somehow (probably me being who I am and asking really inappropriate things), I find out that she and her hair dresser are questioning his sexuality.

Yeah, I was totally rethinking his level of welcomness to the party. As in, come, have my alcohol. I'm not going to lie, dudes in uniform are hot.

I can tell that his wife is ready to go home and she tries to get this guy to come with her (I feel so Don't Ask Don't Tell so his name isn't even going to be on here) but he completely shuts her down. She leaves in a huff.

By this time. I am sitting on his right down a step and Sarai is sitting on his left up a step from him. No one else is paying any attention to us anymore, he's just some guy who decided to come to our party. There were plenty of other guests there that weren't known by everyone.

Army guy asks me if he's cock blocking me from Sarai. We both laugh at him and I let him know that I'm gay. He's like, "really? No way." "Way." He then lets me know that he never would have guessed and that he's cool with me as long as I don't hit on him. I thank him for the compliment and tell him he has nothing to worry about me hitting on his ass and we continue doing what we were doing, plus one thing: his leg is suddenly flush against mine although Sarai is doing most of the talking and we are looking in her direction. I'm thinking is Army guy hitting on me? WTF mate? and I test things a little by sliding my leg a little bit away from him. Sure enough, his leg is right back up against mine within seconds.

After a while, we go back into the house to get some more alcohol. Sarai is talking to her boo while Army guy and I are cruising the house looking for everyone. I am grabbing a beer out of the living room when my friend Katie comes up to me and tells me that Army guy just told everyone in the kitchen that I'm his buddy and that he'd fuck me if I wasn't gay.

Hahaha

He comes out of the kitchen a minute or two later and we go back outside. He wants to go back to his apartment and get some more alcohol and wants me to go with him. I tell him that's probably not a good idea and he says that there's no one there so no one will even know if we go there. I ask him where his wife went and he says that he doesn't know but she didn't go there.

Well, we go across the street to the apartment. I know I know, dangerous. But danger was the last thing on my mind. And really, besides him not being able to feel pain, I knew I was way more sober than him and no amount of combat training was going to save his ass if he tried to pull something on me. Just a statement of fact (go Krav Maga, bitches). He makes this strong mojito complete with the leafy things (minus being ground up) and gives it to me. We take a shot of something (Hot Damn maybe? I can't remember). And the night starts to go south.

While we were at the house, nothing really happened. There was no action like there would be in any porno that may have started off the same way as this. The most that happened was the completely unrequired amount of body brushes and sides touching that was going on while shot taking and making drinks and exploring the apartment.

We eventually head back to the party where I start dancing with another friend of mine, Tai. I think we were showing off, but I can't remember to whom. During this time was when things started going down hill with Army guy and everyone else at the party. Most of the people left had all moved into one of the bedrooms and he was apparently crashing the entire thing. When I finally went in search of him, people were pissed and he was no longer allowed to stay.

We all go outside and he acts like he is going away but really just hides in some trees at the house next door. He can totally be seen. He eventually crosses the street, picks up a "Sidewalk Closed" sign, and comes back to where I'm sitting on this concrete wall in front of the house. He puts down the sign and sits right next to me. He wants to go back into the party but I tell him that's a bad idea. He asks if he's an asshole and if he ruined things. I tell him that I have no idea what he did but people don't want him back in the house so I wasn't going to let him go back in. Eventually, I notice that some of my friends are sitting on the steps behind us. He must have noticed too because he says that we should go back to the apartment. I can see people's reflections moving in the windows of the apartment now so I know that people are home. I tell him that he should go but I'm staying. I give him the mojito cup and tell him to go home to his wife.

He then asks me something very not married like:

"Will you come back with me and have sex with me and my wife?"

Uhh? I tell him that married people aren't supposed to be doing that and he says that the Army has the highest percentages of divorce and also, this is where he gets very serious, that his wife can handle us both: "she likes cock."

Apparently someone else does too, Army guy... you.

He stands up and starts pulling on my arm to get me to go back with him. I offer to take him home, but that's it. I take him as far as the steps. He goes up, I stay at the bottom and he stops at the top and asks me if I've ever seen this movie (I can't remember the name - alcohol ate it out of my memory) and starts babbling about something else. The door to the apartment opens and two other guys come out. I'm now looking up at three guys, two new ones on either side of Army guy. One is his brother and the other is the owner of the apartment. They ask if I've been babysitting him all night and I say that my friends and I have at out party across the street. He then tells them he wants to go back but I say that's not a good idea and remind him about how he's not liked over there. He asks again if he's an asshole and I say "Looks that way." The other guys thank me again and take him inside.

I go back, grab some cold chicken, and sit on the porch to eat. Wouldn't you know it but I see the apartment door open and here comes Army guy running down the steps wearing a baseball cap now. He comes up and stops on the steps and starts talking to me. Asking me if he can come in and stay with me. I tell him that I don't live here and he can't come in. He asks where I live and I tell him the general area. Before anything else can be done Tai and Katie come outside and he says "I guess I'll be going then. Do you know where Dante's is?" We give him directions, he wanders off drunkenly, and that was it. Haven't heard or seen him since.

I stay with the girls a little longer and then walk home. I don't live terribly far from them, but it's a hike nonetheless.

Along the way, I replay everything that happened. I wondered why the hell I was so interested in this guy because besides the fact that he initiated and encouraged everything, I was positively responsive. I could have completely shot him down and made his life hell, but I didn't. Thinking back, I can only attribute my actions to three things: Alcohol, the fact that he reminded me of home, and his obvious no questions asked need to be around me. I respond to things like that (yay growing up in broken homes!).

It would have never worked (hello, the fucker was married!) despite the uniform. I had something going on the next day that is something that can work (something that I hope does) and is much much more healthy for me.

Army guy is probably gone, but the lesson isn't. It's all just a part of growing up and finding out who I am.

That being said, I feel more clarity and closure regarding the entire thing. I need these types of things. I write out what I feel, observe, witness, experience, and explore. That doesn't mean I can't converse, but I prefer to have the hard copy.

And that's just cool with me.

Go back Ireland!

"Go back to Ireland!"

Some man today yelled this at me while I was walking past him with my friend from college, Jennifer, and her friend from grad school, Nathan.

Uhh... haha

I felt like I should have been mad, but I totally wasn't. I had to do a double take just to finalize the thought that he meant me.

I mean really... I'm not even Irish!

Yeah, so my hair is a little red. Okay, that's a lie, I'm pretty much a redhead, but I'm not Irish! I'm German and Polish, estúpido.

It's kind of funny now that I'm looking back on the entire experience and I'm definitely surprised that I didn't get mad and cause a scene.

Who knows, maybe I really am growing up!

PS - life has been awesome lately. More to come later!

What's that? Pride? WTF Mate.

So, I've never been to a Pride event before in my entire life. This past weekend was Pride in Seattle and initially I had absolutely no desire to go to any of the events. I always though "why do gay people need a holiday for themselves? I'm fine with being a gay man and not having to shove it in everyone's faces during some huge event."

Holy shit! What was I thinking?

I had to work Sunday morning during the parade. So many people called out that I ended up getting asked to stay later. The managers helped me out earlier that morning in a situation where I was either going to be extremely late or come in to work wearing non-Gap-appropriate clothes and looking like hell. They chose to have me come in and get myself fixed up (shit, the night before was a once in a lifetime experience but oh so awesome). So, when they asked if I could stay, I said that I would. I was only planning on going to the Seattle Center and catch up with some of my friends but didn't really mind missing the parade.

Throughout the day, I could see some of the festivities from the second floor balcony at our store. While I watched, I realized how much I really did want to be a part of all of that. Who knows, maybe because I was amazed at the show of support, all of the cool floats, or just even being able to be around other people who don't care what my sexual preference is (yeah, Mid-MO still lingers in my veins).

I had to ask my managers if Pride was something that happened every year, and thankfully, they said it did.

Next year, I'm not going to miss it. I'm not just going to hit up the nightlife, but also the day events.

If you want to come with, just give me a buzz.

Blessing of Snoqualmie

Like the title? Well, fuck you, because I do. It's meaning will stay with me and any of my team members who remember its meaning.

It seems like it has been awhile since I've posted. I would be lying if I said that nothing has happened that has been worthy of writing about.

We are finally at the end of City Year. I have graduated from the program and my ten months of service to the communities of Seattle is complete. This is a turning point for me. I now have the freedom to return home, continue with the life I have created for myself here, or go somewhere new. I’m not going to lie; trying out a new location is pretty enticing. Likewise, going back to the Midwest and spear-heading social change has a great deal of appeal. However, Seattle has won out. I will be staying here in this amazing city and continuing just being me.

I hope that’s a me who is on his way to graduate school and making them dollaz.

At the beginning of the year we were required to write letters to ourselves. These letters were designed to rekindle our passions and to illuminate the reasons why we signed up for City Year come mid-year when we are worn out and ready to end everything. In typical City Year fashion, we received our letters Wednesday, two days before we graduate from the program and even after we have already completed our end of the year reviews. I have been thinking for nearly a week as to how I can write what’s on my mind but have been stuck at every corner. Perhaps that was the way things were meant to be. When I opened the letter I wrote myself everything came together. Somehow, September Josh knew what was going to happen to me. He wrote a letter to the mid-year Josh that the end of year Josh finally was able to read. The letter documents, in a way, everything about me that was to be fulfilled. It’s crazy how life works sometimes. Here is the letter:

9-14-07

Dear Josh,

City Year is a unique opportunity for yourself. Yes, you have finally been given a chance to get out and be free in a big city but you are also being given a chance to do something with yourself. You have constantly wondered about whether or not your life will have an impact or make any difference to anyone at all. City Year is providing you with that chance.

Some personal goals for yourself will be controlling unconscious judging, becoming more outspoken, and becoming more trusting. You’ve made huge improvements so far regarding judging others. As you figured out, recognizing it will always be the first step. Without recognizing that you are judging, you cannot act in a way to fix that. Becoming more outspoken has always been a challenge for you. All that is needed is pushing yourself to conquer the uncomfortable and engage in public speaking. Lastly, you know that trusting will always be hard for you based on your past. Right now, I am unsure how you overcome this but I have faith that you will because face it: you’re kind of a big deal. Don’t be scared of being burned, look instead for what good may come.

Later gator,

Josh Kemper

Yeah, it may not seem like much, but this later encompassed a lot of what I unknowingly would work towards during my term of service with City Year.

I finally had the chance to get out of the Midwest and to also have a lasting impact. I know that the work I did with my kids, for Seattle’s various communities, and for myself will last long after I am gone. I’ve left a legacy and that feels awesome. So it sounds selfish but I don’t care. I wasn’t accomplishing anything noteworthy in Columbia, Missouri. Now, here in Seattle, Washington, I have had an impact on lives. That’s something to be damn proud of.

I was raised racist. Now I’m not. I was raised homophobic – wow, that backfired completely. Now I’m not. I was raised sexist. Now I’m not. My pre-judgemental self was something that was in the process of being squashed before City Year. CY only helped to finalize things.

So, outspokenness and public speaking. Challenges? Definitely. However, I conquered this area as well. Like I mentioned in an earlier post, public speaking no longer scares me. It’s easy and maybe I even enjoy it a little. I got to speak in front of 700 people at our Ripples of Hope gala, over 400 at my team’s sponsor annual meeting, running and speaking at assemblies of middle school students, and even addressing the mayor of Seattle on behalf of my students during an environmental awareness forum. For those of us who know the Josh of old these are some very fantastic feats.

Lastly, trusting others and not being scared of being burned. I can honestly say that Seattle’s environment is entirely different than where I am from. I was top dog there. I was always in control and I would affect the way relationships would turn out. Oh boy, apparently the citizens of this state never got that memo. For those who read this blog often, you will already know about Michael and I. More recently, however, Patrick and I split up.

When Patrick told me that he no longer felt the same way about me anymore it crushed me to my core. Never, ever, have I had the guts to picture a life together with someone. Yeah, I went there, I was looking forward to a long long happy time with this man. I even talked about adopting kids with him and having him meet my parents. None of my significant others have ever had that opportunity. I guess that I was completely thrown off by the end of things. I knew that his actions towards me had changed but I didn’t know it was that extreme. I didn’t know that he had stopped loving me. I’ll be honest, the L-word was used (and no, this isn’t a paragraph about lesbians) between both of us.

I don’t allow people completely in very easily yet I did for him. It’s sad for me that it’s over; I can’t really say the same on his side.

I have been thinking for so long what happened that caused things to be different. What did I do to make things change from the perfection that was how we were? I still don’t know. I probably never will but, someday, that won’t matter. As of right this moment, I am leaning towards a few directions. He said that he didn’t want to have to worry about someone else being in the picture. The Thursday night before we broke up he had gone out with one of his friends to a bar while I was working. I got off work and had all of my Gap stuff with me and all of my City Year stuff with me. It was almost 11:00pm on a week night where I have to be up and work the next morning. He and his friend tried to get me to come out with them but I had to refuse. If I had been caught with any of my City Year stuff in that bar I would have been fired instantly. I would have immediately lost my education reward and everything I had been working for nearly ten months would have been out the window. I would have wasted a year of my life by trying to find some cheap fun in the bottom of a bottle. Sorry, but my kids mean more than alcohol to me. I asked that Saturday night when it ended if I had gone out with them would things be different. He said no, but that Thursday night made him realize that he didn’t want to have to worry about another person being in the picture. Alright.

I thought back to where this line of thought might have originated from and came up with a few options: barbeque, Bellingham, and Las Vegas. At our Memorial Day bbq, I crashed early without telling Patrick. There were a lot of people over at my place and when I overheard someone say that it was 1:30am, I realized that I had to be at work in six hours. I promptly went to my room, set my alarm, and crashed. He asked the next day if I was mad at him, which I wasn’t, and after I explained why I went to bed, he said that he told everyone that he guessed he should probably go to bed too. This alone may have only planted the seed. However, there was a weekend where we were supposed to go to Bellingham. I was able to get off of my second job for Friday night, Saturday, but not Sunday. I had to opt out because making Patrick bring me back home either early Sunday or late Saturday night was absurd. I told him that he should go because his friends there really wanted to see him. Yeah, I wanted him to be with me too, but I also realize the importance of friends, especially ones that have known him far longer than I have. Las Vegas is much the same story. He was planning on going there with his friend Toby and invited me. I couldn’t afford it (hello, I worked for AmeriCorps for ten months, I live pay check to pay check, there is nothing in my bank) but I told him that he should go. He questioned if I was being serious with him that I wanted him to go, I said I was, and that I would miss him while he was gone, but as long as he didn’t hook up with anyone, then I would be okay.

As far as all of this goes, maybe I was being too lenient. Maybe it seemed like I didn’t care if he was there or not. I sure as hell did care. I was trying my hardest to keep him (and therefore me) on good terms with his closest of friends. Far too often I was left behind while my friends in college met significant others and stopped hanging out with me. That sucked, so I was really trying to avoid recreating that with his friends by not monopolizing all of Patrick’s free time. I think that’s a pretty noble endeavor but I can also see how it could have caused a feeling of him not being valuable to me. Perhaps that line of thinking led indirectly to a cessation of returned affection. Maybe that action made me come off as not caring. Who knows now?

Or maybe I just lost my fun appeal. I spent a crap ton of money when we were together and towards the end, I stopped being able to go out. I would opt for more nights at home and less out drinking, just so that I wouldn’t go bankrupt and be forced to go back to Missouri. I have no one else to fall back on financially; I am my own bread winner. That could totally be the reason. I love going out. I love partying and I love having a few (or a lot) of drinks. But if I have no money for it I can’t do it, comprende? Bueno.

The entire thing couldn’t have come at a worse time. City Year is ending. My friends are leaving. I will lose a lot of the people I have become close to up here and in some cases I will have to start over. I knew that this was coming when I was with Patrick but being with him made the entire thing seem like everything would work out. Now, hah, I’m alone again. Story of my life, eh?

What does this have to do with the letter? You may have wondered that a few self-loathing paragraphs ago. Well, I took a valuable lesson from Patrick. Yeah, I loved him, yeah, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him and was committed enough to work at it so that it would be feasible but I also realized that he is not the end-all of everything. No one is. I can go out again and meet someone new, all it takes is trying. I was doing much better by Tuesday (probably because I forced myself to mentally prepare to lead ex-gang member middle school students throughout South Park, Seattle in an effort to get rid of graffiti complete with a police escort) and was able to talk about everything and even joke about what had happened.

I’m not saying that what we had mattered so little, in fact, how fast I seemed to feel better scared me a little just because I did love Patrick very very much, but rather that I acknowledged that Patrick can only decide things for Patrick. Likewise with me, I may not have liked that he was dumping me, but I also didn’t make him dump me. I can’t control his thoughts, actions, or emotions. He wants to be friends still (PS – the people you like who I live with are leaving soon, so you better find a way to see them if that is what you meant by coming back to our house) which I am thinking won’t happen because of two reasons: 1 – I can’t do it right now. I don’t think I could hang out with him in the same room and pretend everything is cool and, 2 – By the time I am able to, he will no longer care or even think about me.

I left my soccer game that Sunday afterwards early. I couldn’t stomach the game. I didn’t want to try. I didn’t want to run. I didn’t care if people got past me or if I scored (which is completely unlike me, I am competitive to the core). However, on my way to the bus stop I saw this young lady. She looked as sad as I felt and I realized something: everyone has their down times, what I’m going through is no worse than someone else is experiencing right now either. Because I got dumped the night before doesn’t mean the world stopped turning. I paid respects to what we had in the form of our team's Legacy Binder. There is a collage page of me with my favorite picture of Patrick and I as its center. Forever, that will be tribute to what we were for a very awesome two months of my life.

This is life. So, I’m bottomed out right now, the only way is up, right? My letter seems to say so.

End to a Long Paragraph in an Extended Chapter

Last night, Wednesday, we finally had the graduation for all of the kids in our program.

I honestly can't believe that the five months of program are over. The entire night went exactly like it was supposed to: perfect. For this particular night, I was put in charge of creating the script for the entire event as well as working with the Young Hero student we picked to represent the Young Heroes as one of the emcees. I got to stay on the stage for the entire thing, which I actually liked. I noticed in the beginning of the night when I was making the blind announcement in front of all of the Young Heroes, City Heroes, their families, the service partners we invited, City Year staff, and guest speakers, that I no longer minded doing public speaking. I used to be petrified of it, but now, it's almost easy. I noticed this as well last week when my team had to do a PT presentation in front of our team sponsor, Amgen. I introduced us there and explained PT as well as thanked Amgen for its sponsorship and thanked one of the representatives for maintaining that relationship. Speaking at either event was insanely easy and I didn't mind doing either (knock on wood). It's funny how some things change over time.

In any case, back to the point of this post. My kids are done. My Saturdays are freed up. I don't exactly think that everything has settled in that I won't be seeing my kids every Saturday. I'm sure sometime soon I will go through some type of post-par tum depression or something weird. I did steal some photos from the event of some of the kids that had particularly large influences on me. I also stole their names off of the table that we had created for them.

Doing City Year again as a corps member will drive me insane, however, I will have to see these kids again. Hopefully I can keep myself motivated and committed enough to come back and hang out with them on Saturdays.

Five months. Summed up in less than two hours.

Wow.

Hah, I think it is starting to hit me now.

I need to find nice frames for these pictures. These kids are so worth it.


PS - I read a quote today at Meany Middle School, the school my team works out of, while setting up for its student art exhibition that totally rocked me to my core. It's my philosophy written by someone else in a way that I had never heard of before. Check it out:

"Our true nationality is mankind." - H.G. Wells