Back to Basics: Life Lessons from "Rugrats"

Rugrats: 90's cartoon classic and staple in my brother's and my childhood. As a "big kid" (more along the ages of 5 or 6) it was funny to look at babies and their thoughts on the world around them, including the lyrics to "My Country 'Tis of Thee" and thinking a lizard is the child of a cartoon dinosaur.

But recently, I watched an episode of Rugrats that made me realize that the fictitious thoughts and opinions of babies help us understand the simplicity of some things in life.

To give some context: at this point, the babies are all children of three sets of parents that are friends and neighbors: the Pickles(s), the DeVilles, and the Finsters. In this episode, the Pickles and DeVille parents fight in a game of charades, insulting each other. The two sets of parents end up in a fight that breaks the relationship. The Devilles then take their children home, and they end up fighting.

This is where it gets familiar.

Mr. Pickles starts building a fence on the edge of their property. Both families insult each other through Mr. Finster, who wasn't there for the fight and is still friends with both. Most importantly, the DeVille and Pickles kids don't get to play with each other.

The babies are confused and sad, 

"Why are our mommies and daddies yelling at each other?"

"I wish the grown ups would stop fighting."

"I don't know if they will ever come over and play again."

It took until the kids got lost in the park while the parents were fighting to realize that they were being petty the whole time, and leaving behind the most important things in their lives–their children.

BACK TO REAL LIFE: Thankfully, I've never come into this situation with my parents and their friends. But sadly, it's happening all around me. There is an unbelievable anger and stubbornness happening all of the time. And sometimes it can only be broken up with more chaos, whether it be the loss of a child or a loss of a sense of family, security, peace.

To my friends, regardless of who you are or where you lie, the first mistake you are making is not talking to the other side. Whether it's a simple little fight, or if it's a huge political storm, you are forgetting what is important. What is life going to be like for your children; will we love or spite the world and the people in it? The children will decide if the world will continue in love or hate. Keep your Dill, Chuckie, Phil, and Lilly together; they will one day be the world you leave behind.

I've cried in a cheer uniform.

I've just started watching Glee for the first time (don't know why I hadn't gotten into it before, but that's beside my point). Most of the episodes allow me to indulge what I love about musical theatre–setting a story to music. However, a moment that hit me right in the feels was about the cheerleading aspect.

Longs story short, Mercedes (a bigger girl) joins the cheer squad to show off what she can do at a larger scale than on stage. Her coach wanted her to lose weight to fit into a skirt, and she ends up in the hospital because of a developing eating disorder. Quinn (a former cheerleader) knew how she felt, but Mercedes said that Quinn always had being skinny, blonde, and beautiful to fall back on as a tear rolled down her cheek.

To make things clear: by no means have I ever heard a real coach say something like that, and I pray that no coach ever will–and if there has, I hope they never do again.

Other than that aspect, I remember fitting day for cheerleading to be the most painful day for me and a lot of other girls. Many of the uniforms have been altered to the max to fit other girls, so most of them don't fit right away, but on the day, it's painful to feel like my body had failed me.

On top of that day, there was picture day. I would look at other girls' pictures–all were long-haired beauties with gorgeous makeup. My hair is short. Normally short hair is my thing, but I would look at the photos and cry when I got home; I felt inside that I was the ugliest cheerleader.

But I now look at the action shots that my mom and other moms took. I look focused. I look fierce. I look free. I'm in something that I can call my own as much I do when I sing or play the violin.

I remember what I do in those moments: I belong to the school spirit and with those beautiful girls. We made the squad beautiful ourselves, not by our uniforms–which I look damn good in, if I do say so myself. Quinn was right when she told Mercedes she was beautiful. I know I am and that my team is, too. 💙

I Told Myself: a poem

For many days, I tell myself,

"Their words–they might be true.

You weep because you cannot change

How God created you."

I went to gain a sense of worth

From others' way of words;

The problem with my expectation:

My needs, I never heard.

I longed so, for a better me,
One that's not too loud,
Not too tall, too large, too silly,
Too open, too sassy, too proud.

My heart would have to tug my head
To stand itself back up:
"Among the things you wish could change,
Are some that others love."

I have the strength to tell myself,

"Your confidence make me blush;

If anyone says otherwise,

Don't think you are too much."

"Your body's fine the way it is–
You're tall to touch the sky;
You laugh so loud, so lovely, dear,
So hold your head up high."

To those who long for comfort now,
What I say is true:
Love yourself, for you can't change
How God created you.

To my peers:

Over the last few days, I've heard comments about someone in our school. The comments were along the lines of that someone being too spoiled, that someone being hypercritical (mostly non-verbally), and that someone being more inquisitive than necessary. These may seem insignificant in nature, these subjects being "just an opinion" but I want to make this clear–that is an example of bullying.

Ah, that word. We've seen it countless times in elementary and middle school, but we don't recognize it much in high school unless someone got physical or yelled inappropriately at someone. Much of bullying discussed in elementary and middle school are now referred to as "opinions", so it makes it sound like they have a right to say something mean about someone else.

I'm not saying that I'm not guilty of this, but some people pass it off and don't realize it. This situation I talked about above is not an exception.

Why is it not an exception? Why am I repeating what most of you supposedly already know? Refer to the following:

It is not our position to judge him/her on his/her behavior.  If this person is causing harm physically or emotionally, or if this person doesn't complete tasks that he/she is supposed to, authority will take care of it. They pass the judgement on that specific part, and hopefully provide resources to fix it. It's possible he/she has a deep insecurity about the flaws others point out. Try to look for something you enjoy about that individual because–trust me–there are good qualities all of the people in our school. Yes, all.

It's a cliché for a reason: "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." If this person rubs you the wrong way, you don't have to hang out with them, talk to them, or talk about them. Focus on what you need to do to better yourself, not on what you think other people need to work on themselves.

It's not likely that you genuinely have gotten to know this person or made an actually substantial effort to do so. Maybe this person isn't good with people because he/she is scared; maybe not. Maybe this person has socioeconomic issues; maybe not. Maybe this person has never been good at making/keeping friends, so a continued effort to befriend this person would help him/her remember that someone cares; maybe not.

My point: just try to be a nice person, which most of the time, the people in our school are. However, if you don't have the energy to lift others up, don't use it to put others down. Don't make assumptions

To those who considering dangerous or life-threatening behavior.

Disclaimer: While this is mostly about suicide, many similar things can be said about substance abuse or distracted driving, so PLEASE consider the following.

Recently a student in a neighboring town took their life. While learning about probability in math class, our teacher compared (statistically) the probability of failing us failing math unintentionally given we are students at our school vs. the probability of having serious thoughts of suicide given that we are a teenager in America.

The main reason the prior has odds of slim to none is because the school constantly circulates those academic needs back to us and makes sure we know resources are available. That doesn't mean the resources to combat the latter are not available, but apparently some people have yet to be aware of or to comprehend their availability. My teacher then made it clear that any teacher, whether you have a class with them or not, is willing to talk things out. If you don't find luck, this is the purpose of this post.

Many teens that have thought seriously about suicide often have a bleak outlook on the future because of low self esteem, pessimistic views of the world, or sense of purpose not being fulfilled or realized. I would like to tell you why I want you to not take your life.

1. Regardless of whether or not you think so, you will be missed. Not only do I see your gifts and your beauty more than I do your so-called weaknesses and imperfections. There will be a sense of emptiness only to be filled with more grief and anxiety when you are gone. In the last three years or so, every graduating class had at least one person pass before graduation whether by accident or by suicide. I try my darndest to have at least one conversation every week or so with someone who misses many classes for mental health reasons because the last thing I want is to feel the sting of our principal acknowledging our yellow ribbons for you. (Even if you are not a full-time student–I can guarantee that the Hoover Dam holding back tears in my brain will not be intact.) You deserve to feel a sense of belonging to us. If you know me, please talk to me about your troubles, but if you feel like you can't talk to me, here's a toll free number to some who would want to: 1-800-273-8255.
2. Even if you have a bleak outlook on life, you still only have one chance to live it. For this, I only have one image to describe this:

3. If you have not found a purpose in life at age 13, 16, 19, 23, 27, 37 etc., guess what? That's okay! There is still plenty of life to live and an infinite amount of choices you can make. If it doesn't work, it doesn't. But that doesn't mean that nothing will work, so go ahead. Make rational, positive choices and learn from those that didn't work.

I love you. I want you to live. If you don't want you to live, any teacher would be willing to talk to you, and there are plenty of toll free number such as the Trevor Project to confidentially talk about your feelings. I believe in you. 💓

I can be insecure (whaaat?...)

I wanted to share this because I come across people that have problems with themselves all of the time. I want to make sure those people understand that many (not all) people of whom they see as confident and secure are often on a very fine line of doubt.

I appear to have a general "I don't give a butterfly's behind of what you think" attitude. Many people view me as super outgoing and confident, and I appreciate that. But though I have a lot of good days with generally good thoughts, I can't say it's like that all of the time. That's right, I doubt myself. A lot.
These are all things I've thought of myself over many days for the last three years.

"I'm not pretty enough to be a cheerleader."

"I'm far from being as good of a musician as that person, maybe anyone."

"I'm not smart enough to be in this class."

There are days where I can just pick an outfit because it makes me feel like me, but other days I stress about choosing my outfit and putting on my makeup because I want my creation of the day to be beautiful precious work in the eyes of someone else.
I can carry on a conversation at a good pace, but sometimes there are too many words to choose from and I choose the wrong ones. I fixate for hours–possibly days–on my moments of so-called "stupidity", even with members of my family.

I usually remember that I have people in my life that wouldn't trade me for any average-joe stoic, straightforward person. I sometimes feel like I'm burdening someone else with my emotional overload.

I hope for whomever is reading this to understand that as I'm writing this out, I'm thinking to myself what I'd say to another person with doubts about themselves: these things you see as incapabilities don't compare to the vast amount of great things you can do. I believe that for every person I've ever come across with self esteem issues.

Hopefully you can find a way to understand the value you put into this world. If anyone you come across feels this way, please help them realize their strength. <3

What genuine musicians do...

The busiest day I have had as a musician through the whole year has been Solo/Ensemble Festival: a full day of students singing and playing pieces of music prepared for a judge and possibly a small audience. I participated in eight events, overall learning 13 pieces of music. I had five acts as a vocalist, four collaborative pianists, three acts as a violinist, two lovely directors, and a partridge in pear tree–it was overwhelmingly awesome and beautifully exhausting.

As my day at Solo/Ensemble was about halfway over, all was well until I came across something that not only didn't amuse me but also broke my heart. I ran into a student from a different school whom I had known from various other music events; the only thing–after years of "only" perfect ballots–this student was concerned with was getting a "Best of Center" rating for their solo (an honor distinguished to only one act during the day by the judge–this student hadn't achieved this yet). This person is considering doing music in college, and this person had a very competitive state of mind about music. I knew that my friend's thought process had been poisoned to believe that music was to be won or lost with a prize of glory or scholarship money. Nothing else mattered to them. 💔

I was brought up in a cornucopia of amazing musicians, many of them brought up by the choral legend Weston Noble. One of the many things people admire about Weston's legacy was his satisfaction coming from a beautiful sound made from passion and artistry. "Stay humble," he always said. 

Has this student I've come across never been given the all-important spiel of "This whole process is subjective, and full satisfaction can never be achieved when music is made for a measly score?

If anyone is a victim of a goal to be "holier-than-thou" principle, I'll tell you–as someone with quite a few "honors" and "prizes"–what the satisfaction of music came from for me during Solo/Ensemble:
- Playing a beautiful, challenging solo on an instrument that is not of my most comfortable skill 🎻
- Feeling the sounds and emotions of an ensemble blending to become one 🎼
- Admiring the skills of another instrumentalist that I had never thought of before 🌟
- Keeping up when the going gets tough on a piece 💦
- Observing growth on the technical skills from previous performances 👍
- Appreciating the beauty of a different kind of choral music 🎨
- Making an audience laugh with the performers because the pieces exude fun 😂
- Resting after a passionate final performance 🌹

This event was an opportunity to learn about one's self as a musician and as a collaborator, both with fellow students and music educators. I am appalled for anyone led to believe music to be merely a competitive ground to spill blood on and to be taken for granted. Music is a gift, a feeling, an art, a language; use it with passion. Remember, Weston said, "Stay humble."

Easy as αβɣ

Before I get into the specifics, there is something I want to clarify: I despise asking for help. There are three possible reasons for this:

1. There have been many times when the help is ineffective because I usually can't follow the process of what the teacher is talking about, and as a result, I get more confused.
2. As a child, I felt patronized when being given help.
3. I'm generally anxious about being an inconvenience to someone else, even if the person I'd be asking is a teacher.

Generally, for most of the time I've been in high school, I almost never lost in the process of anything. If I got off course, usually the first explanation would get me sailing again. Math was definitely an area I didn't find too much trouble in until...*sigh*...vectors...
(one thing to know for sure: 3 ...'s = 👎)

Almost every day for this previous unit, I went to the teacher's desk during our work time in a panic. I felt super self conscious because I usually do well in this class, and this time around, it seemed like I was the only one who didn't get it. The teacher presented in a way that made sense when taking notes, but the math didn't click. I was lost.

After class one day, I was leaving feeling anxious and confused; I felt like crying. As I was about to leave, my teacher told me something I had not really thought about before:

This is a good unit for you because it's the first time in a while that you don't just get it. With the career want to go into, you'll come across problems more complex than any problem you'll have in math class. You just need to find a starting place.

I had forgotten that I actually have had to start from scratch before. In seventh grade, I needed to find a way for me to not hash out in anger all of the time, and that took help. In ninth grade, I needed to gain confidence in myself to perform in Individual Speech for the first time, and that took help. In eleventh grade, I needed to look for a brake in my brain for when my brain is moving 1,000,000 miles/minute in the wrong direction, and that still takes help.

Asking for help isn't weak. It isn't anything to be ashamed of. It's not a position that makes you seem any less smarter or less competent. Help–whether in the form of an explanation, a person to talk to, a prayer, a song, or a voice saying, "You're not alone."– can be enough to make you a bit stronger.

💕

My "Oscar" Inspiration

The 89th Annual Academy Awards had a theme of inspiration. Between various categories, different actors/actresses would describe an onscreen portrayal that inspired them, and that actor would present with the actor that inspired them. I'm not a professional actress (or really a professional anything), but for this post, I would like to discuss a portrayal that I long to have express my gratitude for just as Javier Bardem did for Meryl Streep. Though this portrayal was a TV movie with no Oscar nominations, I had the video cassette, so I still count it as a motion picture, and I still find the same kind of "Oscar inspiration" nonetheless 😊.

With my senses being (for lack of a better term) overwhelmed in the most delicate situations as a kid (due to my special needs), I admired movies with the most tangible satisfaction. In the 1999 TV movie version of Annie, there were many details big and small that my 3-year-old brain would be emotionally satisfied by: the brushes used to scrub the floors of the orphanage, the snow globe in Daddy Warbucks's office, Lily St. Regis's pretty pink wardrobe–the list could go on and on. All of these itty bitty details came into play, but the most dynamic part of this movie was Rooster. The biggest detail that captured my heart most as a kid was none other than Alan Cumming's portrayal of Rooster. If you want to witness the outstanding energy of this performance, observe:

He enters the scene at 1:00, but you can get a whole sense of the contrast he brings in the whole clip.

As a kid, I LONGED to possess the colorful energy of Rooster. He was charming and conniving, and that's what made me have that soft spot for the bad guy. At four years old, I would do all of his choreography and blocking. Alan Cumming painted the very first picture of quality stage performance in a film that I've ever seen. It was almost like my first Broadway experience. This actor inspired a thespian in the sensationally overwhelmed little dancer that I was.

I am currently reading Alan Cumming's memoir, Not My Father's Son, and there are aspects to Alan's life that are dark and haunting, but there is plenty that he has learned to appreciate about his character. For example, he describes how his personality has been backward from his age. He felt forced to toughen up and keep to himself as a child, but as he grew up, he found his childlike qualities and grew to embrace them. Despite the many struggles he had to overcome in his life, I am grateful that he has given all of his audiences (including me) the gift of his shameless, frolicky self.

Alan Cumming, your performance blessed my life with the gift of art. Never have I seen such a wonder as you. Bless you with the same amount of boisterous love as between you, Kristin Chenoweth, and Tommy Tune at the Tony's. For all that it's worth, you are and forever will be my Oscar inspiration. 💕

A season of no sweets?

Yes, it's true. For the last seven days and continuing through the season of lent, I've disciplined myself to eat breakfast every morning, to lessen snacking, and to give up the following: pastries, cookies, cakes, chocolate/candy, sugary beverages (soft drinks, chocolate milk, Gatorade-type things), ice cream...just all "sweets".

Why?

I'm acquiescent to terrible eating habits. Many of the calories I make up in my day (from either skipping breakfast or just having a pastry for breakfast) are from snacking on sweets. A regular snack for me–no joke–a fist full of chocolate chips washed down with a glass of milk. "Moderation" is not a much of a word in my vocabulary, so this would happen most days, if not, it eventually turned to having a bunch of cookies or some sort of desert for multiple snacks. I had told my parents the previous night that I was becoming unpleasantly moody in school. I had come to realize that during this week of Valentine's Day, I had been consuming sugar without control, and I was not feeling alive in the morning. My mom promised that she was willing to make me breakfast in the morning; she wanted to help in whatever way she could.

I knew for a fact that it was going to be difficult. I'm genetically and behaviorally prone to have those cravings. Alas, I know it's best for me, both physically and mentally. Here's what happened for each of my days.

Thursday-
Not so good Things 👎: I had to resist a lot of natural urges, and my stomach hurt slightly as I was going to bed. I wasn't used to that many calories being taken out of my day.
Good Things 👍: I was more attentive and not very moody at all! I felt much more cognitively and emotionally engaged.
Friday-
Not so good Things 👎: The ice cream and soft drink menus at Hickory Park in Ames were calling my name. Before bed, our coaches for Large Group offered us cookies for a bedtime snack, and a doughnut as one of the breakfast items for the next day. I was slightly disheartened when I didn't take a cookie or a doughnut.
Good Things 👍: I overall had a lovely day with my teammates. I stayed focused on hanging out with them than any concerns with my stomach. A couple of my friends had been on disciplined practices like giving up sweets or trying a paleo diet. They were very supportive, and I still was able to have a good time. I also didn't eat to the point of a stomach ache like a few other people 😝.
Saturday-
Not so good Things 👎: All of the drinks available for purchase at All State itself were soft drinks, and our coaches had leftover cookies from the day before. To give you an idea, the picture above the post ↑. It was pretty rough.
Good Things 👍: I was having too much fun to care about sweets. I realized that I wasn't really hungry between meals, and I realized that cravings and hunger are not the same thing, and they shouldn't be treated the same way.
Sunday-
Not so good Things 👎: I was...good. Not gonna lie.
Good Things 👍: I felt conditioned to it by that point.
Monday-
Not so good Things 👎: No school day, relaxing day. I felt like I was watching the clock a lot when I was in the mood to eat.
Good Things 👍: A will power complex developed inside of me, so I didn't feel the need to snack often. I was aware about my lack of hunger rather than the presence of cravings.
Tuesday-
Not so good Things 👎: My friend makes awesome cupcakes–I mean AWESOME cupcakes. I forgot for a solid second before realizing that I couldn't have any. It was sad.
Good Things 👍: I managed to make breakfast by myself, and I only had one snack between lunch and dinner–something that would actually keep me from being peckish. Also, I've been listening and understanding my body more when it reacts to food. I realized it actually tells me when I've had too much greasy food and not enough fruit; I've just been ignoring it until now.
Wednesday-
Not so good Things 👎: I realized that I regularly think about how I could get sweets, and those thoughts sometimes found their way back into my mind, and I had to correct them.
Good Things 👍: I used to just talk crap about vegans–or anyone with a different diet in general. I realized that awareness of what goes into my body actually matters. Sure, I'm not giving up animal products, but I'm making a decision for better health, not for pleasure.

Ultimately, I learned this week that if you want to change something in your life for the better–even if it's going to suck to do so–you can. It takes a lot of patience and a lot of persistence, but it's doable if you want it to be.

Quick bit of advise.

Sorry, I'm a little late in posting; February's getting messy, timewise. I just wanted to leave a few needed words of encouragement this week, as much for you as for me.

It's not a bit fun feeling powerless. I get that. If you are feeling powerless because there are so many big things that are out of control, focus on what you do have. There are things that only you have been called to do around you all of the time.

Your family, your job, your friends–all of those are vocations to you to help make the world better. If you have used your time to make the community around you walk a little bit lighter, you've already made more of a difference in the world than you think. If you feel compelled to help a stranger (even if it's just opening the door), go for it! You know and understand what's good in this world: lifting each other up when we feel down. 

You can do it; spread that beauty that you possess.

3 Things (I Love) About My Special Needs

I am on "the spectrum". I had an Individualized Education Plan for a while before my family and I decided it wasn't doing much for me anymore, as I am able to function now without assistance. When I tell people about it, their responses are usually–in a very loving way– "Oh. That actually makes so much sense" if they've known me since childhood/it's no surprise, or "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I had no idea" as if it was a burden to me at all. To those of the latter, really, it's not like I have a terminal health condition. It's something that I've lived and am still living with. Just because my brain works a little differently doesn't mean I can't still learn and grow (haha) like everyone else. It took me a long time before I could accept myself. Continually, I've learned to live with what I ultimately can't do which, in reality, is very little compared to what I can do.

One thing that disgusts me in modern media is the stigma among (I shudder to say this word) "disabilities". For example, a plethora of ignorant people believe that vaccinations cause autism. There's actually no evidence of a connection. Even if there was, despite what people might immediately think, that's definitely not the worst thing that could happen. People with autism spectrum disorders have plenty of capability to be as healthy as the next guy. I'm not saying parenting a child with physical or mental ailments is a piece of cake, but it's easy to find plenty of parents who see a lot of beauty within the mechanisms of their everyday challenges, like my awesome parents 💋. I would like to share with you a few things I have come to find beautiful about myself.

1. I don't have the ability to fake my personality. I am an actor, but in real life, everything shines through and there's nothing I can really do about it. When something makes me happy, you will know. Sure, I quickly learned to adjust my passionate opinions at age six–with one person my favorite color was purple and favorite animal was a cheetah, and with another it was yellow and a dolphin. However, I never did try to hide my regular course of action. My hair is this short because I wanted to make it short. My decision to wear makeup was based on whether I felt like it or not. I don't spend time with just one group of people because I've accumulated many traits from the unique people I knew for a long time. It's pretty neat.

2. My emotional energy is at a constant high. As a kid, I would squeal if something was great or cry to communicate that something was wrong. This mostly because either I couldn't find words to describe the intensity of what I was feeling (especially with my heightened senses and my hearing sensitivity). Eventually, I found out how to use words instead of tears through the help of my beautiful kindergarten teacher (Mrs. Croatt 😇), and words have become a fun way to decorate the intense feelings I have . For example, if I'm in someone's car with a really strong air freshener, I'd say something like "Jeez, did a pine tree take a crap in here?". Even if I'm exhausted and I see any one of my friends that I'm not even that close with, I still show my utmost excitement, because every emotion is that extreme.

3. Passion fills my cup and lets it overflow. At age 4, arranging things in patterns that only made sense to me wasn't for practical purposes; physically doing it was what gave me the pleasure, not the end result. In PE in elementary school, I would sing and dance regardless of the task at hand. People would get annoyed because they thought I was full of myself, when really, holding still felt preposterous when I was surrounded with this bubble of music. I talk way too much about Camp Ewalu, but only because it's the place that puts bread in my soul. I may try to make someone laugh when really they don't feel like only because to see them without that joy is too painful. I'm a hugger because I have more love for all people to try to keep to myself. I'm clingy most everyone and everything because I care. A lot.

If you find something that you dislike about yourself that you feel is unchangeable, I can guarantee that there is beauty there. I'm sorry if someone made you see it in an ugly way. Also, if you want to  get yourself more familiarized with people that have been looked down upon because of what they can't do, go on ahead. You'll find the beauty in them, too.

My Inside Experience

I was in the Charleston are of South Carolina on vacation for a week in June of 2015. One day, we wanted to see the French Quarter but got lost while trying to park somewhere. As we started our multi-mile walk in 100ºF weather, we came across a big beautiful church. In front of it was a large black gate with cards and big bouquets of flowers in front of it. They said things like "We will miss you." and "You will not be forgotten." I quickly realized that I was there, at Mother Emmanuel AMC, where the shootings had taken less than a week previously.

On my right, I saw a woman walking out of the church, clutching a handkerchief to her eyes with one hand while the other grasped to a man's hand next to her with his head low. To my left, a group of people stood in a crowd on that street. They had a continuous passionate chant: "United we stand, divided we fall." What was shocking was that in this moment, this wasn't a news story, a dramatic interpretation in a play, or an exhibit in a museum. This reality that these people had to deal with wasn't completely filled with anger, but with a long stage of grief and anxiety.

Later that day as our family was driving back to where we were staying, we passed through neighborhood in which these white children were selling lemonade. There was a little girl running by our car holding a large sign in front of the lemonade stand. All of the profits were to go to Mother Emanuel families. (I actually saw this!)

Source: The Island Eye News (http://islandeyenews.com/kindness-strength-in-midst-of-tragedy/)

That was a beautiful thing. What's sad in this situation was that no one would have seen this on the news, and if they did they likely disregarded it. Actually seeing a hand of support rather than another spew in the media angering the rest of the country is very rare. This situation was another thing for people to be angry about–that's reasonable–but not many thought about voicing genuine support for more than one tweet, one hashtag. It was a terrible thing that happen, but witnessing the humanity in it all was a historical experience that I unintentionally stood in the midst of.

Tragedy is very real, but there can be beauty hidden in the cracks. Don't just have an opinion; put it to good work. Build bridges, and break down barriers. You are more powerful than any act of hate, so put that power to good use.

Religion ≠ Faith?

Many of my friends are "atheists". Whether they've been taught about religious texts in a way they can't understand or believe, whether they've had a bad experience with religious people, or they've just not had any reason to have faith in something invisible–these very different people have come to this conclusion. But they are different in they the way they define it. Some of them don't have a religion, some say they don't have faith. Many people (religious or not, faith driven or not) don't realize that religion and faith don't go hand in hand.

Religious systems are like political systems in the way that each "party" (religion, denomination, congregation etc.) have ideas about how things should be done for the good of (in religion) humanity. Some may do it in forceful, ugly ways; others may do it through charitable organizations; some do the work of achieving it without involvement of a specific religion (or at least thinking there is none).

One's faith is what they believe in. Someone's faith could say, "I see God when I see beautiful in this world in the crack so human failure." Another's faith could say, "A girl I met with mental health issues has wise soul with strong ideals and shouldn't be labeled with society's stigma."

Religion nor faith has to be defined or organized. Example: Brendon Urie (my favorite frontman 😊) talks in an interview about how he didn't believe in the religion he grew up practicing and follows no organized religion now. People call him an atheist, but I don't believe that at all. He said that music is his religion (a practice in which he has a goal to make the world better–already is), and a faith that music is what keeps him going and will always be there.

Sometimes one's faith isn't always what someone thinks is completely consistent or compliant with what seems like the religion they claim to practice implies. Some Atheists look at Christianity being hypocritical being like, "Why is a gay man Christian when another Christian wants to 'convert' him?" or "You believe in evolution? Isn't that hindering a common Christian creationist point of view?" This stuff gets ugly in itself because hatred of something so complex like theology and refusal to accept each other leads to ignorance. Everyone with or without religious affiliation: don't override someone for a faith they can't explain. It doesn't change it's validity; it affirms it's strength of heart and complexity of mind.

What you believe is your faith, a rock you can build a house upon, whether it's God, music, nature etc. Understand that whatever religious label you decide on, remember that the faith comes from a similar place because we're human. We can't be that different.

Trapped in one perspective.

Many times, we view life like a documentary. We see an image, and voices speak for it rather than letting it's voice of purpose be heard. If there is an image we don't like–whether it's how you see the opposite political party, different culture, unimaginable life experience–we take the image and criticize it.


But we forget that people are not images; they're people, real people, similar beyond measure. I wrote this poem/rap the other night talking about perspectives that we often don't think about and how I wish these could play out.

*This is not directly based on any story, just from my understanding of various stories of the sort, real and fictional. I'm also not saying this is the case for ALL situations like this, on the contrary.

This scene you see me in, turn and say,
"She has no expression upon her face."
I'm sorry, but there's not a one minute reason,
These images being hard to taste.

A boy, he's only 13,
Passion for playing football teams,
Friends, empty-minded, have a point system
"Look at those girls, a point if you do more than kiss' em."

Never allowed to hang out with girls as a kid,
Never knew what girls thought or did,
Result for keeping something so distant,
A fruit a mind couldn't bear to forbid.

Girl, going on 14,
Only an innocent image she's seen,
Boys will only come to you if they care,
Those ones are the "princes"–that comes out unfair.

Two weeks later, he's screamed at by grown ups,
Not knowing what's wrong, they yell, "Own up!"
He didn't understand if she didn't want it,
Didn't know what it was, he'd not yet been taught it.

She's being called a "b****" for this,
An angry image of "feminist",
Crying out while trapped in frustration,
Media's silent out of meer intimidation.

If I could have changed the story,
I'd add a part the and girl and the boy,
Talked it through not angrily,
Starting with my verses two and three.

This boy couldn't comprehend that pain,
The monster image she can't face,
Anxiety and society's voice clouding,
Understanding is silent when the wound does the shouting.

I'm not trying to be condescending,
But it's time society stops pretending,
Poisonous images side by side,
Kill the people that bear their outsides.

**I'm sorry if any part of this offended any survivors–what you went through was awful and sick. My point is NOT that you should change your point of view–the idea behind it is to help spread an educated message. Some others only know one point of view, and knowing how to teach yours with the perspective in mind is.

Dealing with "Campsickness"

Last week, I felt what I can only describe as campsick. Clearly, I was not homesick for my house where my parents live and my hometown where my friends grew up because it's literally where I live. I was homesick for my home away from home, "a place apart". Coming into 2017, I missed the family that was created around me and the intimacy I had with creation. I missed the summer, a time where I could be outside all of the time and still be comfortable.

This was not the first time I had this so-called campsickness. I was finished with my session at camp for the summer on July 15 in 2016 after four weeks. I even felt on the drive home that I had a void to fill. The next day, I decided to go to Java John's. One of my friends was playing a set, so I went with the thought in mind that if I saw other people, I would forget about what I was feeling. The plan failed, but not miserably.

At Java John's, I saw many people that graduated that May. It was lovely to see them and talk to them before the went off on their endeavors in the fall, but it made me feel lonelier still. I was just a sophomore, someone that had been left behind. To phrase it like the Jack's Mannequin song "Dark Blue", I was alone in a crowded room. It seemed like the void in my heart swelled. I sat on a stool by myself, taking in the emotional song from the front of the coffee shop, weeping into my sleeve. I prayed in that moment for a sense of purpose, a friend, a change of spirit–anything that could take my mind off of the isolation.

I see out of the corner of my eye, lip syncing to the set in a humorous manner, my friend Carston. I hadn't seen him since May, so I wiped away my tears to eagerly great him. We stood next to each other for the last choir concert of the year, and I hadn't really thought of him since then, even though he was (and still is) one of my very good friends. As we caught up, I asked him about what he did over the summer and what he was looking forward to for our junior year. In turn, that got me thinking, "What am I looking forward to before next summer?"

Nordic Fest. All State practice. Football season, Concert Choir, cheer practice, classes, etc. ETC. ETC.! In actuality, before I realized so, I had full plate in front of me. It overwhelmed and excited me. There were plenty of places, experiences, and people–so many wonderful people–I had yet to see. Coming back from a mountaintop experience wasn't easy, but there was a reason I had to. There is much work to be done in my life, and I've only just begun. The best part is that I'll be going back, but in the meantime, I won't be alone.