READ "Who Knew?" BEFORE READING THIS BLOG OR YOU MIGHT FEEL LOST
Last night, I had hit a major wall, and I spoke about a loss of a friend- and I am not sure if the blog sparked it, or it was just the fact that she and I both decided to write how we felt down and share it at the same time.
The friend I thought I lost, well she wrote me the most heart felt letter I have ever read. She made me cry, and I am still crying because while I was grieving for the friendship I thought had ended, she writes me, the most touching lines ever, and tonight begins our turning point.
Throughout the last five years, she and I have seen one another grow up, fall down, get back up, fail, succeed, and have witness our lives crumble right before our eyes. Yet, we turned to each other, and we managed to get through it. Tonight, I felt like my dear old friend was back, and it took me back to the days where we spoke on the phone for hours, where we discussed school, and so much more.
I can't believe how one day can turn a whole situation in a different light, but I am glad it did. I felt a void in her absence and when I care about people, I never stop caring and when one of them is gone, missing or hurting, I feel for them.
We've gone through so much together, and it is my belief that the love that developed in our friendship, has given us this one last chance to turn things around. To remind ourselves why we were each other's shield, why we were never more than a phone call away, and why we shared some of the greatest memories together.
She was by my side through my darkest of times, and she gave me the faith to get by, for she was and is my friend. My greatest hope is that our friendship survives the distance, the challenges and the time between us.
I want her to know that I am always going to be here for her, and she can turn to me for anything. As we embark on our new found direction, tonight begins our turning point back to the days where we were each other's rock, confidants, and escape from the burden that we shared between us.
Her letter touched me beyond belief, and as this year ends, I am looking forward to another year with her, and so many other great individuals. I guess the moral of this blog, is that I was wrong, who knew that even in the face of the end, she and I would find a new beginning.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Who Knew?
In life, we meet so many people. For some, it's simply a brief encounter, for others, it's a relationship that develops over the years. In middle school, everyone was called your "Best Friend", and that stupid saying, "best friends forever" became the punch line for every false promises made, to every childhood memory shared, because like time- those memories would fade, and friends would forget.
Well, I guess I didn't know that just because someone told you they'd be your friend forever, didn't mean that would actually occur.
In middle school, my most trialing years, I met this beautiful girl, smart and artistic. She and I had our ups and downs, but somehow, we got past it and high school was a great help. I guess high school was also a double-edged sword. Suddenly, we weren't the kids in middle school, we began to develop and discovered who we were. That couldn't be farther from who we had been.
For one, I discovered I was not into girls, and she discovered that she didn't think much about boundaries and others relationships. We both loved the arts, and shared MANY of the same dreams- and our relationship became tainted when life decided it would take me on this journey, that was allowing me to live the same common dreams we both shared. Except, while I was doing that, she was a by-stander, and she watched me, and I felt, bitterly so. Whenever I tried to share my happiness with her, she never seemed to be as happy as I would have imagined my best friend to feel.
Suddenly, our circle of friends changed, we changed some more, and it all became about balancing our hectic lives, while trying to remember the individuals we once were, that made us friends in the first place. I told myself that no matter where life would take us after high school, that we would remain friends, but who would have known that June 30th would mark the end for my long-time friend and I?
Granted we have gone through a lot together, we've seen each other at our worse, and stood by each other's side. I believed in everything we said to one another, how we'd be friends forever. I can't help but think of Pink's song, "Who Knew" which is why this blog is entitled that.
Now, half way through our first year of college, we couldn't be any further from one another, and the friendship I thought we formed. I may not be perfect, and I can sometimes be a crappy friend- but the one thing I pride myself on, is that no matter HOW busy or HECTIC my life gets, I always make some time for those I claim to care for, for those I call my friends.
I wish I could still call her my friend, I truly would give anything for that--but when life takes you in different directions, and your friendship isn't based on the foundation you thought it was, how could you know that it wouldn't last?
I am sad, angry, and confused- who knew that someone I once considered my dearest friend, would become the person I grieved for, although she is very much alive, she's just vacant in my life.
Cherish your friends, because although others tried to warn me, you won't know, until it happens to you- when the friendship you thought you had, just disbands. I thought I knew her, but I guess life has a way of changing people so much, that even their physical appearance becomes distorted in your mind.
Well, I guess I didn't know that just because someone told you they'd be your friend forever, didn't mean that would actually occur.
In middle school, my most trialing years, I met this beautiful girl, smart and artistic. She and I had our ups and downs, but somehow, we got past it and high school was a great help. I guess high school was also a double-edged sword. Suddenly, we weren't the kids in middle school, we began to develop and discovered who we were. That couldn't be farther from who we had been.
For one, I discovered I was not into girls, and she discovered that she didn't think much about boundaries and others relationships. We both loved the arts, and shared MANY of the same dreams- and our relationship became tainted when life decided it would take me on this journey, that was allowing me to live the same common dreams we both shared. Except, while I was doing that, she was a by-stander, and she watched me, and I felt, bitterly so. Whenever I tried to share my happiness with her, she never seemed to be as happy as I would have imagined my best friend to feel.
Suddenly, our circle of friends changed, we changed some more, and it all became about balancing our hectic lives, while trying to remember the individuals we once were, that made us friends in the first place. I told myself that no matter where life would take us after high school, that we would remain friends, but who would have known that June 30th would mark the end for my long-time friend and I?
Granted we have gone through a lot together, we've seen each other at our worse, and stood by each other's side. I believed in everything we said to one another, how we'd be friends forever. I can't help but think of Pink's song, "Who Knew" which is why this blog is entitled that.
You took my hand, you showed me how
You promised me you'd be around
Uh huh, that's right
I took your words and I believed
In everything you said to me
Yeah huh, that's right
If someone said three years from now
You'd be long gone
I'd stand up and punch them out
Cause they're all wrong
I know better
Cause you said forever
And ever, who knew?
Remember when we were such fools
And so convinced and just too cool
Oh no, no no
I wish I could touch you again
I wish I could still call you a friend
I'd give anything
Now, half way through our first year of college, we couldn't be any further from one another, and the friendship I thought we formed. I may not be perfect, and I can sometimes be a crappy friend- but the one thing I pride myself on, is that no matter HOW busy or HECTIC my life gets, I always make some time for those I claim to care for, for those I call my friends.
I wish I could still call her my friend, I truly would give anything for that--but when life takes you in different directions, and your friendship isn't based on the foundation you thought it was, how could you know that it wouldn't last?
I am sad, angry, and confused- who knew that someone I once considered my dearest friend, would become the person I grieved for, although she is very much alive, she's just vacant in my life.
Cherish your friends, because although others tried to warn me, you won't know, until it happens to you- when the friendship you thought you had, just disbands. I thought I knew her, but I guess life has a way of changing people so much, that even their physical appearance becomes distorted in your mind.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Good Grief
In a few weeks, it will be four years since my half brother Kamal "Pupi" Razick passed away. His death impacted my life in a way that words could not describe.
When others say that grief has turned their life upside down, I believe them-- for an entire year, I was an emotional wreck, and I had so much rage built up inside of me. I wanted to hurt everyone as much as I was hurting and I was so angry at my brother for leaving.
However, I found a book one day in Barnes and Noble and I think it saved me. The book was called Good Grief and was written by Lolly Winston. That was the her first novel, which hit #1 on The New York Times Bestseller's List. I could give you a quick overview of the book, but I am not going to- instead, I am going to encourage you to READ IT!
The book had to do with a loss of a love one, and the process the person goes through- the grieving process. When I picked up the book, something just told me to buy it and read it. I did, and I am glad I did. It was emotional, and it was lifesaving. I had never dealt with a loss of a love one before, and this book explained to me the process of grief, and made what I was feeling- okay, normal, and understandable. Suddenly, I didn't feel alone, I felt like I belonged in the same group as the character in the story- a person trying to figure out why death occurs and what one can do to deal with the loss of someone you cared for.
The first two years after my brother's death, I stopped reading (with the exception of Good Grief) and I stopped writing (with the exception of what I had to write for school). Everything that was good in my life, I stopped doing. I simply stopped caring and my grades reflected that.
Grief had torn me apart, and if that wasn't enough- I decided it was time to come clean about who I was as a person. Life happened to me, and I had enough of it, I said "good grief" and threw my hands in the air. Of course, suicide came to mind, so much pain and misery- how could it not? But there was something to be said about the grieving process, and although it never truly ends, once you've begun the process you come to a point where it becomes okay to live again, okay to laugh, to smile, and to believe that there is still a reason to be alive.
Although a few years have gone by, there's still those moments of anger, those moments where I just start to cry out of nowhere, where I get flashbacks to the day I got the phone call. There will never be a day, where grief isn't a part of my life, but each day that passes, it makes it easier to deal with, to cope.
Life is a cycle, and we're all living in it and someday, I will reach the end of my cycle and I don't want anyone to go through what I went through- I want them to embrace grief much sooner than I did, I want them to remember all the good in me, and the bad that made me who I am. I want them to be proud of me, and allow my life to continue on, through theirs.
For anyone who knows me, who loves me, who may read this: One day, I will go, and when I do, I want you to keep my life alive through yours, of course you will cry, be hurt, get upset, but never stop living.
(DISCLAIMER: This is no indication of suicide, or of me dying prematurely, this is just a blog referring to grief, my experience and my hope for those who may be affected the day I do pass away, which I hope is no time soon-- too much stuff left to do on my "To Do" list.)
When others say that grief has turned their life upside down, I believe them-- for an entire year, I was an emotional wreck, and I had so much rage built up inside of me. I wanted to hurt everyone as much as I was hurting and I was so angry at my brother for leaving.
However, I found a book one day in Barnes and Noble and I think it saved me. The book was called Good Grief and was written by Lolly Winston. That was the her first novel, which hit #1 on The New York Times Bestseller's List. I could give you a quick overview of the book, but I am not going to- instead, I am going to encourage you to READ IT!
The book had to do with a loss of a love one, and the process the person goes through- the grieving process. When I picked up the book, something just told me to buy it and read it. I did, and I am glad I did. It was emotional, and it was lifesaving. I had never dealt with a loss of a love one before, and this book explained to me the process of grief, and made what I was feeling- okay, normal, and understandable. Suddenly, I didn't feel alone, I felt like I belonged in the same group as the character in the story- a person trying to figure out why death occurs and what one can do to deal with the loss of someone you cared for.
The first two years after my brother's death, I stopped reading (with the exception of Good Grief) and I stopped writing (with the exception of what I had to write for school). Everything that was good in my life, I stopped doing. I simply stopped caring and my grades reflected that.
Grief had torn me apart, and if that wasn't enough- I decided it was time to come clean about who I was as a person. Life happened to me, and I had enough of it, I said "good grief" and threw my hands in the air. Of course, suicide came to mind, so much pain and misery- how could it not? But there was something to be said about the grieving process, and although it never truly ends, once you've begun the process you come to a point where it becomes okay to live again, okay to laugh, to smile, and to believe that there is still a reason to be alive.
Although a few years have gone by, there's still those moments of anger, those moments where I just start to cry out of nowhere, where I get flashbacks to the day I got the phone call. There will never be a day, where grief isn't a part of my life, but each day that passes, it makes it easier to deal with, to cope.
Life is a cycle, and we're all living in it and someday, I will reach the end of my cycle and I don't want anyone to go through what I went through- I want them to embrace grief much sooner than I did, I want them to remember all the good in me, and the bad that made me who I am. I want them to be proud of me, and allow my life to continue on, through theirs.
For anyone who knows me, who loves me, who may read this: One day, I will go, and when I do, I want you to keep my life alive through yours, of course you will cry, be hurt, get upset, but never stop living.
(DISCLAIMER: This is no indication of suicide, or of me dying prematurely, this is just a blog referring to grief, my experience and my hope for those who may be affected the day I do pass away, which I hope is no time soon-- too much stuff left to do on my "To Do" list.)
Saturday, December 25, 2010
A Son's Betrayal
"Daddy don't you understand the damage you have done? For you it's just a memory, but for me it still lives on. Bruises fade father but the pain remains the same, I still remember how you kept me so afraid, the strength is my mother for all the love she gave" -- Christina Aguilera "I'm Okay".
I spoke briefly about my relationship with my father in the blog, "Connections" which you may want to read before reading this one. It will help you connect the dots, and understand.
In June, I was completing a very important chapter in my life, I was graduating high school. I had called my father inviting him to attend, but before I made the phone call, I thought long and hard. A part of me thought he didn't deserve to share that special moment with me, because he had nothing to do with helping me get there. Yet, like so many times before, I gave in to my better judgement and told myself, "He is my dad, he should be included". My father gave me countless reasons why he couldn't come, and I thought to myself, "Really? You can't find any way of getting down to New Jersey for this very important day?".
After that conversation, I deleted his number and wanted nothing to do with the man that seemed to disregard every important aspect of my life. Before, it use to hurt so much, for me, I use to lie to myself, and tried to tell myself that he loved me.
Several months go by, and then he calls me. At this point, I am in my Fall Semester of college and I was busy when he called, so I hung up quickly. I didn't bother storing his number, and I had no intention of calling him back. Christmas Eve swings by, and he SO just happened to call me-- not having stored his number, I was unable to ignore him, and answered the phone.
Instantly, I realize it is him, but I ask "Who is it?", just so he would understand that I didn't have his number stored, so he could understand that I wasn't planning on using it. He goes on a rant talking about how he called me and I was too busy, and he said, "You tell people I've deserted you" [clearly a relative I recently spoke to on Facebook or got re-connect with, must have taken my words, and took it the wrong way]
For years, I took the fact that my father abandoned me personally- I thought it was all my fault. I use to cry, use to blame my mother, and I never once thought the fault lied upon him.
That was until I got older, until I was able to see with my own eyes, the very same reality my mother was trying to avoid me seeing- truth is, my father never cared about me, or any of his children in my opinion. My brother Kamal "Pupi" was murdered in January of 2007, and I believe it is the GUILT my father is feeling that has made him realize what a crappy father he has been. See the problem is that, my brother's unexpected death only made me more angry at my father. He was the reason why my step-mother had moved my older siblings to Buffalo, and although he wasn't the direct cause of death-- he wasn't a father to either of us, and instead of encouraging my brother to stop selling drugs, he enjoyed the perks that came with having a son who made money off selling illegal drugs.
He was so busy trying to be their friend, that he lost hope in trying to be their dad. Not that they would have listened, but still, he sat idle. Grief is his only motive for trying to make amends now, and he is simply nineteen years too late. I don't want anything to do with him, and I don't want to speak to him or have any interaction with him.
You are probably thinking that I am crazy for feeling this way, that I am selfish, and that I need to forgive and move on but I don't care to be honest.
It may come off to my relatives as a son's betrayal, but it's simple, all I am doing is the same thing he has done for years- I am just not taking the time to be a part of his life.
As crazy as it may seem, the fact that I spent years yearning for the day that my father would be a father, the truth is, I needed him the most when I was growing up, and now that I am a young man, all I need from him, is for him to stay away and keep his distance. I don't need anyone coming in after years of tears, sweat, hard work, heartache and suffering that my mother and I endured to try to take credit for all that I am today, and all that I have accomplished.
My mother may not be perfect, but she was more of a man then my father will ever be, and she raised me to be able to stand on my own without any support from my father. I actually hate the fact that I have to refer to him as that, because only the universe knows that he has been nothing short of a stranger in my life.
I feel a little bit of guilt, because he is sick and in his Mid-to late forties, but the matter at hand is that now he must deal with the errors of his ways, and recognize the fact that to me, he will mean nothing more to me, than a stranger.
A betrayal of a sort, but when a man doesn't even know what my favorite kind of foods are, or what my life is all about, he has no right to show up and try to get involved now. He can wait to read my first book, "Crippled But Not Broken: An Early Life Autobiography" when I am done writing it, like everyone else.
He may think it is just memories he missed out on, but for me, all that he can't recall, is a constant reminder that he never cared to begin with-- every morning that I wake, I think back on yesterday, and my yesterdays never included him- and neither will my tomorrows.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
What Do We Give?
The last six years of my life, has been filled with a lot of changes. Death and discord seemed to fill it and I am finally at a place where I can try to enjoy the holidays again.
Since I've been numb to it all in the last six years, I almost forgot what the holidays were all about. I forgot that it was about giving, and not receiving, and it's about love, and celebrating life. We get so caught up on gifts, on wrapping, and we seem to forget the true meaning of this holiday season.
We should be grateful for what we have, especially in this recession when so many have lost jobs, homes and for some, their lives. Just today, a friend of mine witness a man getting struck down by a van on a major highway, and she doesn't think he is going to make it. Just two days before Christmas, a family must deal with the fact that a love one may die. Yet, here I am wishing I had more money to buy more gifts for friends and love ones- instead, I should be wishing that all of the people in my life are safe and sound to celebrate the ending of this year, and the starting of the next. Because someone in the world right now, isn't going to have that chance.
I was talking to a friend, and he really inspired me to reflect about this time of the year, and myself. He was having a hard time and needed to vent. He talked about "giving"...what he gave, and how what he wants, is never given. It reminded me that while I may not be the most jolliest person around this time, I can appreciate it for what it is. I am a natural giver, and I would give you my last meal if that meant it would be the first meal you ate in weeks. I would give away special items to people, just because I believe everyone deserves to have a smile on their face.
Yes, sometimes I wish people would appreciate me more, and sometimes it's nice when someone says "Thank You" or when I get credit for all of my efforts, but what I do, and what I give, I do it because it's part of who I am- a natural giver.
What do we give though? Besides this one time of year, what do we give? Do we give enough thank you's to those who do small tasks in our every day life? Do we thank our mailman or woman? Do we thank our grandparents or parents, or whoever is responsible for our upbringing? Do we give thanks to our friends, the people we count on for a lot in our lives?
Do we give love to those who need it, hope to those who have lost it, and peace to those who have gone mad? In fact, most of us only take- most of us only know how to receive and not how to give back.
Get over the decorations, presents and drinks-- and take this time, and give it a deeper meaning. Let it be about love, life, peace and harmony. Let's stop taking and start giving back.
Since I've been numb to it all in the last six years, I almost forgot what the holidays were all about. I forgot that it was about giving, and not receiving, and it's about love, and celebrating life. We get so caught up on gifts, on wrapping, and we seem to forget the true meaning of this holiday season.
We should be grateful for what we have, especially in this recession when so many have lost jobs, homes and for some, their lives. Just today, a friend of mine witness a man getting struck down by a van on a major highway, and she doesn't think he is going to make it. Just two days before Christmas, a family must deal with the fact that a love one may die. Yet, here I am wishing I had more money to buy more gifts for friends and love ones- instead, I should be wishing that all of the people in my life are safe and sound to celebrate the ending of this year, and the starting of the next. Because someone in the world right now, isn't going to have that chance.
I was talking to a friend, and he really inspired me to reflect about this time of the year, and myself. He was having a hard time and needed to vent. He talked about "giving"...what he gave, and how what he wants, is never given. It reminded me that while I may not be the most jolliest person around this time, I can appreciate it for what it is. I am a natural giver, and I would give you my last meal if that meant it would be the first meal you ate in weeks. I would give away special items to people, just because I believe everyone deserves to have a smile on their face.
Yes, sometimes I wish people would appreciate me more, and sometimes it's nice when someone says "Thank You" or when I get credit for all of my efforts, but what I do, and what I give, I do it because it's part of who I am- a natural giver.
What do we give though? Besides this one time of year, what do we give? Do we give enough thank you's to those who do small tasks in our every day life? Do we thank our mailman or woman? Do we thank our grandparents or parents, or whoever is responsible for our upbringing? Do we give thanks to our friends, the people we count on for a lot in our lives?
Do we give love to those who need it, hope to those who have lost it, and peace to those who have gone mad? In fact, most of us only take- most of us only know how to receive and not how to give back.
Get over the decorations, presents and drinks-- and take this time, and give it a deeper meaning. Let it be about love, life, peace and harmony. Let's stop taking and start giving back.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Sex Machine: Automatic
Have you ever gone through a period in your life where sex seems to define everything? You're relationships, your interaction with men, or women, or even both.
When I first "came out", there was no one there to guide my way, no one to tell me to be careful, and no one to tell me that I could wait. Instead, I had individuals decide for me, decided what role I would play in this crazy film called life. They hammered at my self-esteem until all that was left, was my flesh and bone smashed.
At times, I felt my only value stemmed from my body, I guess in turn, that also affected the way I view my body, and myself. Of course I just gave up, fell down this pit where I became comfortable with my situation. A victim of circumstance, ignorance and stupidity. I thought, I wasn't good enough unless I gave whoever, whatever they wanted. See, I gave and gave, and just kept on giving and now there's nothing for me to give.
I feel like a black hole, just draining and destroying anything that is in my path--forgetting what it means to have a conversation through words, forgetting what it means to leave some imagination for the mind to ponder, forgetting I was not being served on a silver platter. My self-worth was determined by what other's thought I was worth, and that was my biggest mistake. I forgot that loving myself, was the most important person to love.
I began to self-loathe, I started giving up on myself, and I became this malfunctioned product. Suddenly, it all became automatic for me, and I was receiving no satisfaction from it afterwards.
It was as if every encounter removed one more layer of my self away, stripping me bare, until all that was left, was an image I couldn't stand to look at, a body I couldn't stand to live in, and skin that I wanted to scratch away.
After three years of living this way, I've decide that tonight, that all changes. I will learn to love myself unconditionally, to value myself like the diamond I am, and to teach others to respect my mind, body and spirit once I learned how to myself.
Some things in life aren't automatic, some things need to be done manually, and here I am, manually taking back my self-worth, my dignity and the love I lost for myself.
No longer will I be content with the vacancy that developed, no longer will I be a frail being with no sense of direction. I will find my own way, through my own journey of self-revalation.
Don't make the same mistake I did, always put yourself first, and never allow another person to mold you, create your own shape out of your clay, and love yourself that way.
When I first "came out", there was no one there to guide my way, no one to tell me to be careful, and no one to tell me that I could wait. Instead, I had individuals decide for me, decided what role I would play in this crazy film called life. They hammered at my self-esteem until all that was left, was my flesh and bone smashed.
At times, I felt my only value stemmed from my body, I guess in turn, that also affected the way I view my body, and myself. Of course I just gave up, fell down this pit where I became comfortable with my situation. A victim of circumstance, ignorance and stupidity. I thought, I wasn't good enough unless I gave whoever, whatever they wanted. See, I gave and gave, and just kept on giving and now there's nothing for me to give.
I feel like a black hole, just draining and destroying anything that is in my path--forgetting what it means to have a conversation through words, forgetting what it means to leave some imagination for the mind to ponder, forgetting I was not being served on a silver platter. My self-worth was determined by what other's thought I was worth, and that was my biggest mistake. I forgot that loving myself, was the most important person to love.
I began to self-loathe, I started giving up on myself, and I became this malfunctioned product. Suddenly, it all became automatic for me, and I was receiving no satisfaction from it afterwards.
It was as if every encounter removed one more layer of my self away, stripping me bare, until all that was left, was an image I couldn't stand to look at, a body I couldn't stand to live in, and skin that I wanted to scratch away.
After three years of living this way, I've decide that tonight, that all changes. I will learn to love myself unconditionally, to value myself like the diamond I am, and to teach others to respect my mind, body and spirit once I learned how to myself.
Some things in life aren't automatic, some things need to be done manually, and here I am, manually taking back my self-worth, my dignity and the love I lost for myself.
No longer will I be content with the vacancy that developed, no longer will I be a frail being with no sense of direction. I will find my own way, through my own journey of self-revalation.
Don't make the same mistake I did, always put yourself first, and never allow another person to mold you, create your own shape out of your clay, and love yourself that way.
Three Wishes
1) I wish I could turn back the hands of time and undo a lot of my wrongs. Take back all the hurtful words I spoke, all the degrading actions I took, and protect myself from becoming this toxic person.
2) I wish I could truly forgive all those who hurt me, but my ability to remember memories in such detail makes that hard for me. Even when I think I am ready to move on and let go, I get a flashback.
3) I wish I valued myself more, and not make myself disposable to others. I want the shedding to begin, so the past can remain there and I can live a happier future.
2) I wish I could truly forgive all those who hurt me, but my ability to remember memories in such detail makes that hard for me. Even when I think I am ready to move on and let go, I get a flashback.
3) I wish I valued myself more, and not make myself disposable to others. I want the shedding to begin, so the past can remain there and I can live a happier future.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Connections
Some of you may read this, and already know but for those who don't, well here it goes.
Growing up, I never had my father around. It was always my mother, sister, grandmother, aunts, and my grandfather. In fact, it wasn't until I was much older that I realized something was missing.
I remember the first time I could remember meeting my dad, he came with my younger siblings and step-mother. I felt oddly strange with the idea that I was suppose to hug this man, smile at this man, and say "I love you" to this man, who was a complete stranger to me.
As the years passed by, I began to build a relationship with the man who had abandoned me when I was in the womb. Initially, it was hard to adjust and build a bond with my half-siblings. The younger ones hated me at first, and made my visits to my father's home over the summer less than pleasant. However, one day- my siblings and I experienced something that changed our relationship forever.
One summer, I was visiting, it was the last time I went to stay over there since then, my father and my step-mother was experiencing a problem and suddenly, I was in a hostile environment watching my father get physically abusive towards my step-mom, and I saw the look that came across my younger brother and sister's face. Being the eldest, (I was just in middle school, going into 8th grade) I immediately knew to react, and stop the craziness I was witnessing.
That was the first time I was ever in the situation of domestic violence, and it was also the first time my father laid his hands on me. (He didn't know it then, but that would be his last time ever laying his hands on me) I called the police, and tried to convince my step-mother to do something I knew she couldn't, and wouldn't do. After so many years with the same craziness, you become immune to it.
It was as if my siblings had become so accustomed to this kind of event, that there wasn't the same fear I felt occurring within them.
To make what could be a very long blog shorter, I will say this- my father and I are estranged, and Facebook has been connecting me to several family members on my father's side. They write me and reach out and say, "I am..." whatever family tie they may have to me, and while I sincerely care for all my relatives, especially my siblings, and most dearest to my heart, Kamal, the one who passed away, it's hard to build sincere connections with these people who family to me.
It all stems from my disconnect with my father. The entire point behind this blog is to simply express the fact that although genetically you may have some connection to someone, that doesn't mean the connection will translate into a relationship or love. Whether you are family or not, the connection has to develop between people in time, and quite frankly, my father missed out on his time to connect with me.
Growing up, I never had my father around. It was always my mother, sister, grandmother, aunts, and my grandfather. In fact, it wasn't until I was much older that I realized something was missing.
I remember the first time I could remember meeting my dad, he came with my younger siblings and step-mother. I felt oddly strange with the idea that I was suppose to hug this man, smile at this man, and say "I love you" to this man, who was a complete stranger to me.
As the years passed by, I began to build a relationship with the man who had abandoned me when I was in the womb. Initially, it was hard to adjust and build a bond with my half-siblings. The younger ones hated me at first, and made my visits to my father's home over the summer less than pleasant. However, one day- my siblings and I experienced something that changed our relationship forever.
One summer, I was visiting, it was the last time I went to stay over there since then, my father and my step-mother was experiencing a problem and suddenly, I was in a hostile environment watching my father get physically abusive towards my step-mom, and I saw the look that came across my younger brother and sister's face. Being the eldest, (I was just in middle school, going into 8th grade) I immediately knew to react, and stop the craziness I was witnessing.
That was the first time I was ever in the situation of domestic violence, and it was also the first time my father laid his hands on me. (He didn't know it then, but that would be his last time ever laying his hands on me) I called the police, and tried to convince my step-mother to do something I knew she couldn't, and wouldn't do. After so many years with the same craziness, you become immune to it.
It was as if my siblings had become so accustomed to this kind of event, that there wasn't the same fear I felt occurring within them.
To make what could be a very long blog shorter, I will say this- my father and I are estranged, and Facebook has been connecting me to several family members on my father's side. They write me and reach out and say, "I am..." whatever family tie they may have to me, and while I sincerely care for all my relatives, especially my siblings, and most dearest to my heart, Kamal, the one who passed away, it's hard to build sincere connections with these people who family to me.
It all stems from my disconnect with my father. The entire point behind this blog is to simply express the fact that although genetically you may have some connection to someone, that doesn't mean the connection will translate into a relationship or love. Whether you are family or not, the connection has to develop between people in time, and quite frankly, my father missed out on his time to connect with me.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Better Man
This post is dedicated to a special person-- he and I went through a lot in the last few years, and somehow, we've managed to end up here- as better men. To BM.
Today I visited someone who I went to high school with, and he and I haven't seen each other since the summer time. We're almost in January, and it's been so long. It seems that college has had a positive effect on him, my gut tells me he is a better man because of it.
As much as I disagreed with a lot of what he did, and butted heads with this individual, he is the reason why I even got the chance to start dancing. He choreographed my first piece, to the song "His Eyes Is On The Sparrow", and from then, my life would change drastically.
We both did some grimy things to one another, some things I wish I could take back, and some things I am sure he wishes he never did. Yet, this isn't about dwelling on the past, it's about recognizing the fact that he seems to have become a better man. Now only time will tell if he is truly the new man he claims to be, but I hope that this new chapter in our lives allows for the past to be forgotten, and the future to be bright.
I hope we can take this fresh slate and build a friendship that lasts a lifetime-- because now we are better men and no longer the immature boys we once were.
Before you give up on someone, give them the chance to get better, to improve, to change and show the fact that they truly can grow as a person.
Today I visited someone who I went to high school with, and he and I haven't seen each other since the summer time. We're almost in January, and it's been so long. It seems that college has had a positive effect on him, my gut tells me he is a better man because of it.
As much as I disagreed with a lot of what he did, and butted heads with this individual, he is the reason why I even got the chance to start dancing. He choreographed my first piece, to the song "His Eyes Is On The Sparrow", and from then, my life would change drastically.
We both did some grimy things to one another, some things I wish I could take back, and some things I am sure he wishes he never did. Yet, this isn't about dwelling on the past, it's about recognizing the fact that he seems to have become a better man. Now only time will tell if he is truly the new man he claims to be, but I hope that this new chapter in our lives allows for the past to be forgotten, and the future to be bright.
I hope we can take this fresh slate and build a friendship that lasts a lifetime-- because now we are better men and no longer the immature boys we once were.
Before you give up on someone, give them the chance to get better, to improve, to change and show the fact that they truly can grow as a person.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Body Image: A Man's Tale
"Everyone knows women who have body image issues. The secret: men have them too"-- Jill Neimark
When we think of body image, what gender is the first gender that comes to mind? Females right? Well if you are living in the society I am in, then yes you would connect body image with women.
But as the quote above points out, men have them too. In many recent studies and information gathered by various sources- men are just preoccupied with their looks as women are. What's crazier, is that women are also more concerned with how a man looks, which puts that old saying, that men can be heavy, with their stomachs hanging and they can still get a woman.
What's even more shocking about this new rise of concern for body image in men, is that "Dr. Murray Drummond, men's health lecturer at the University of South Australia estimates that 5- 10% of people with eating disorders are men. And according to psychotherapist Abigail H. Natenshon, 20% of those men are gay." (from About.com).
Yet, this is clearly underrepresented in mainstream society, and not a topic that people discuss in any way. In fact, I've been in workshops about health, and heard many people talk about eating disorders when it comes to women, but not once have I ever heard anyone bring up the fact that body image affects men as well.
Before I started dancing three years ago, I was this short, chubby kid who ate whatever, and whenever he wanted. But I remember I was performing for the first time ever in a dance, and a man came up to me and told me, "You were great, but it would have been better if you would tone up"-- I of course took it as his way of saying I was too fat, and needed to tone out my body.
From that moment forward, I became obsessed with my weight, and the people around me weren't shy about the fact that I could lose a few pounds. Now while I wouldn't say I developed a disorder, I will say that I developed bad habits. Those habits included going hours without eating, sometimes an entire day before eating. I would eat smaller portions and dance much more to increase my physical activity. I stopped eating fast food, cut out soda, and didn't eat seconds at dinners.
I began to lose a lot of weight, and people were giving me compliments initially. Then, people began to worry that I was losing too much weight. As much as I love my mentor, she added to my problem. When I was losing the weight, she seemed supportive and said I look great, and when others began to bring up the fact that I was too skinny, she then began to tell me I need to gain some weight.
Other teachers said I looked sick-- and I was so torn. I was losing weight and I felt great. The guys seemed to like my new look and I was loving all of the attention. In the last three years, my weight has been a major struggle for me. All of my weight goes to my stomach, and while my face, arms and legs may seem skinny, I have a huge gut. The fact that I struggle with my weight so much, really bothers me. It makes me really unhappy at times, and even ugly.
But when we live in a society where body image issues only seem to occur with women, it's easy to slip under the cracks, to feel depressed and not know what to do to make yourself feel better emotionally and physically.
Tonight I was at my best friend's house, and I love her family dearly. My two best friends and I have gained some weight since being in college (Call it the Freshman 15 if you'd like) but my best friend's little sister said something to me while I was eating dinner that really hit me hard.
"Mark I'm sorry but you really are fat"-- now we spent the day talking about our weight gain, and kind of making a mockery of it, and while I love my best friend's little sister and I know she was saying it innocently, it made me realize I gained more weight that I would have liked.
For weeks, I looked myself in the mirror without clothes and I cringed when I looked down and saw my stomach. I feel this added pressure to lose it, to work out...but I don't want to get into those bad habits again.
I feel down, and unsure of what to do--whether you're straight or gay, no man wants to feel fat, or unhappy with the way they look. I hope my testimony will help other men who are having body image issues, that they are NOT alone and that there are others feeling the same way- even if society doesn't think so.
When we think of body image, what gender is the first gender that comes to mind? Females right? Well if you are living in the society I am in, then yes you would connect body image with women.
But as the quote above points out, men have them too. In many recent studies and information gathered by various sources- men are just preoccupied with their looks as women are. What's crazier, is that women are also more concerned with how a man looks, which puts that old saying, that men can be heavy, with their stomachs hanging and they can still get a woman.
What's even more shocking about this new rise of concern for body image in men, is that "Dr. Murray Drummond, men's health lecturer at the University of South Australia estimates that 5- 10% of people with eating disorders are men. And according to psychotherapist Abigail H. Natenshon, 20% of those men are gay." (from About.com).
Yet, this is clearly underrepresented in mainstream society, and not a topic that people discuss in any way. In fact, I've been in workshops about health, and heard many people talk about eating disorders when it comes to women, but not once have I ever heard anyone bring up the fact that body image affects men as well.
Before I started dancing three years ago, I was this short, chubby kid who ate whatever, and whenever he wanted. But I remember I was performing for the first time ever in a dance, and a man came up to me and told me, "You were great, but it would have been better if you would tone up"-- I of course took it as his way of saying I was too fat, and needed to tone out my body.
From that moment forward, I became obsessed with my weight, and the people around me weren't shy about the fact that I could lose a few pounds. Now while I wouldn't say I developed a disorder, I will say that I developed bad habits. Those habits included going hours without eating, sometimes an entire day before eating. I would eat smaller portions and dance much more to increase my physical activity. I stopped eating fast food, cut out soda, and didn't eat seconds at dinners.
I began to lose a lot of weight, and people were giving me compliments initially. Then, people began to worry that I was losing too much weight. As much as I love my mentor, she added to my problem. When I was losing the weight, she seemed supportive and said I look great, and when others began to bring up the fact that I was too skinny, she then began to tell me I need to gain some weight.
Other teachers said I looked sick-- and I was so torn. I was losing weight and I felt great. The guys seemed to like my new look and I was loving all of the attention. In the last three years, my weight has been a major struggle for me. All of my weight goes to my stomach, and while my face, arms and legs may seem skinny, I have a huge gut. The fact that I struggle with my weight so much, really bothers me. It makes me really unhappy at times, and even ugly.
But when we live in a society where body image issues only seem to occur with women, it's easy to slip under the cracks, to feel depressed and not know what to do to make yourself feel better emotionally and physically.
Tonight I was at my best friend's house, and I love her family dearly. My two best friends and I have gained some weight since being in college (Call it the Freshman 15 if you'd like) but my best friend's little sister said something to me while I was eating dinner that really hit me hard.
"Mark I'm sorry but you really are fat"-- now we spent the day talking about our weight gain, and kind of making a mockery of it, and while I love my best friend's little sister and I know she was saying it innocently, it made me realize I gained more weight that I would have liked.
For weeks, I looked myself in the mirror without clothes and I cringed when I looked down and saw my stomach. I feel this added pressure to lose it, to work out...but I don't want to get into those bad habits again.
I feel down, and unsure of what to do--whether you're straight or gay, no man wants to feel fat, or unhappy with the way they look. I hope my testimony will help other men who are having body image issues, that they are NOT alone and that there are others feeling the same way- even if society doesn't think so.
Deception
Has anyone ever tried to deceive you? Think that you were not smart enough to find out?
How do you decide what to be mad at? The fact that the person lied, or that they underestimated your intelligence?
Deception is running rapid in our society. It's as if everyone has lost their moral compass. The truth has become taboo, something we aren't suppose to tell. It starts from childhood- our families deceive us into believing that Santa Clause exists, along with the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. But why do we do that? Why do we instill in them the idea of lying at such a young age? Doesn't that show them that it's okay to lie? I mean, when is it ever okay to use deception, to alter the way another should think?
Society does it all the time, different news media, and social media as well. What we believe, is determined by how we receive our information, who gives it to us, and I think we've lost our ability to tell the truth.
In fact, most truths are partial, and never completely the truth. We think that people can't handle the truth, we want to spare their feelings, well guess what? DO NOT do that...telling it for what it is is essential. In fact, they may get hurt by it, but that's not why we avoid the truth, we avoid it because we don't want to get hurt by it--because we don't want the guilt that comes along with admitting your mistakes and lies.
That is selfish of us, and selfish to the person or group of people we are lying to. Deception is a scapegoat, a way to coward out of telling someone something you just don't want to admit to.
Spineless and foolish of us to believe that the truth isn't important...in fact, if we stopped telling lies, people would begin to hear and see the things they've been sheltered from.
-Global Warming is happening, there is truth in that theory.
-Gay people are not all crazy and wild, there is truth in that statement.
-America needs to really be all about freedom and justice for all, there is truth in the fact that America isn't that.
I could go on and on...but you see, deception is relevant in our society and unless we START GETTING HONEST, and STOP BEING LIARS- we are going to destroy the power and beauty of the truth.
How do you decide what to be mad at? The fact that the person lied, or that they underestimated your intelligence?
Deception is running rapid in our society. It's as if everyone has lost their moral compass. The truth has become taboo, something we aren't suppose to tell. It starts from childhood- our families deceive us into believing that Santa Clause exists, along with the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. But why do we do that? Why do we instill in them the idea of lying at such a young age? Doesn't that show them that it's okay to lie? I mean, when is it ever okay to use deception, to alter the way another should think?
Society does it all the time, different news media, and social media as well. What we believe, is determined by how we receive our information, who gives it to us, and I think we've lost our ability to tell the truth.
In fact, most truths are partial, and never completely the truth. We think that people can't handle the truth, we want to spare their feelings, well guess what? DO NOT do that...telling it for what it is is essential. In fact, they may get hurt by it, but that's not why we avoid the truth, we avoid it because we don't want to get hurt by it--because we don't want the guilt that comes along with admitting your mistakes and lies.
That is selfish of us, and selfish to the person or group of people we are lying to. Deception is a scapegoat, a way to coward out of telling someone something you just don't want to admit to.
Spineless and foolish of us to believe that the truth isn't important...in fact, if we stopped telling lies, people would begin to hear and see the things they've been sheltered from.
-Global Warming is happening, there is truth in that theory.
-Gay people are not all crazy and wild, there is truth in that statement.
-America needs to really be all about freedom and justice for all, there is truth in the fact that America isn't that.
I could go on and on...but you see, deception is relevant in our society and unless we START GETTING HONEST, and STOP BEING LIARS- we are going to destroy the power and beauty of the truth.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
His T-Shirt
He and I had shared a night that I've never shared with anyone else. He watched me as I snored, he gently rubbed my thigh, and he woke me up in the middle of the night.
His bed felt like a beanbag, and my body just melted in it. I wore his t-shirt and I felt warm within his embrace.
It was a dream, having someone holding me with so much affection, so much passion, so much emotion. When I feel lonely, or down, I put on his t-shirt, and recall that night. It was a night I can never forget. I also wear his t-shirt to make a fashion statement, that vintage kind of look- oversized shirt, with skinny jeans and a nice hat= one good looking guy.
A part of me thought that I should throw away his t-shirt, but then I remembered, just because something ended, doesn't mean you can't remember what it was like when it was still going. Sometimes it's just as important to remember the good memories, because that reminds you that all the pain and tears were worth something.
And if nothing else, at least I got a cute shirt out of it. Right?
His bed felt like a beanbag, and my body just melted in it. I wore his t-shirt and I felt warm within his embrace.
It was a dream, having someone holding me with so much affection, so much passion, so much emotion. When I feel lonely, or down, I put on his t-shirt, and recall that night. It was a night I can never forget. I also wear his t-shirt to make a fashion statement, that vintage kind of look- oversized shirt, with skinny jeans and a nice hat= one good looking guy.
A part of me thought that I should throw away his t-shirt, but then I remembered, just because something ended, doesn't mean you can't remember what it was like when it was still going. Sometimes it's just as important to remember the good memories, because that reminds you that all the pain and tears were worth something.
And if nothing else, at least I got a cute shirt out of it. Right?
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Push
How many times have you tried to walk through a door, or tried to pull it when the door states "PUSH"? Clearly, there is a moment of embarrassment and then you quickly push the door open.
Could you imagine the differenence there would be in our personal lives if, like with the door, we just push through and move on even when we are forced to deal with a situation. Moving on, pushing forward, and leaving the past in the past is a difficult task. Our memories won't let us forget, and our hearts can't mend the wound fast enough, and the tracks where our tears fell, leaves a dry stain- a visible reminder.
We may hoarder on to these feelings for days, weeks, months, and for some, years before we have that moment when our lungs contract, our chest tightens, and our body stiffens, followed by a sigh.
Recently, after a year and a half of an on and off again relationship with someone, he and I both realized it was ending, but I didn't know it would all go down the way it did. For the sake of his privacy, I won't get into details but when my comfort zone was crumbling before my eyes, I couldn't believe it. A part of me was in denial, thinking that he and I would make it work like every other time in our lives. However, this time- it felt different! I began to get angry, sad, and tears developed and for the first time in the past year and a half, I was going to have to push forward, knowing that there wouldn't be a moment of returning to his arms. This time, we were done, and for good this time.
And then, after a few days of feeling down, teary eye, and over analyzing every detail, there came a point when I felt a sense of relief, the pressure eased and suddenly I realized- I began the process of moving on. It is all new to me, moving on, the entire process- when you develop feelings for someone else, and your lives begin to interlock, it's hard to imagine how different it will be without them in it.
Yet, despite the difficulties, I am learning that I have to continue to push myself, and not allow myself to give up and get stuck in the situation. The silver lining of one ending, is that there is a new beginning, waiting to be started, you just have to push far enough to get there.
Could you imagine the differenence there would be in our personal lives if, like with the door, we just push through and move on even when we are forced to deal with a situation. Moving on, pushing forward, and leaving the past in the past is a difficult task. Our memories won't let us forget, and our hearts can't mend the wound fast enough, and the tracks where our tears fell, leaves a dry stain- a visible reminder.
We may hoarder on to these feelings for days, weeks, months, and for some, years before we have that moment when our lungs contract, our chest tightens, and our body stiffens, followed by a sigh.
Recently, after a year and a half of an on and off again relationship with someone, he and I both realized it was ending, but I didn't know it would all go down the way it did. For the sake of his privacy, I won't get into details but when my comfort zone was crumbling before my eyes, I couldn't believe it. A part of me was in denial, thinking that he and I would make it work like every other time in our lives. However, this time- it felt different! I began to get angry, sad, and tears developed and for the first time in the past year and a half, I was going to have to push forward, knowing that there wouldn't be a moment of returning to his arms. This time, we were done, and for good this time.
And then, after a few days of feeling down, teary eye, and over analyzing every detail, there came a point when I felt a sense of relief, the pressure eased and suddenly I realized- I began the process of moving on. It is all new to me, moving on, the entire process- when you develop feelings for someone else, and your lives begin to interlock, it's hard to imagine how different it will be without them in it.
Yet, despite the difficulties, I am learning that I have to continue to push myself, and not allow myself to give up and get stuck in the situation. The silver lining of one ending, is that there is a new beginning, waiting to be started, you just have to push far enough to get there.
Aurin Is Reading, Are You?
I want to start off that I know in the past, I have abandoned my blog, and in return, now realizing, whoever else is out there who actually enjoyed reading my thoughts, my feelings and so forth.
A few minutes ago I received a heart felt message from a young lady I met through a mutual friend via Facebook. She had read "The Secret Society" and I am assuming a few other of my blogs.
"Honey you don't have to thank me. I honestly really appreciate the fact that you have a blog and how honest you are in it. What is interesting about having a blog is that you never really know who will end up reading it and how they will react you know? And for the most part, I would think that most people would either disagree completely, disregard, or criticize the thoughts i have written. However, your blog is seriously the first one i have read where I actually feel like someone is addressing some of the feelings I have inside. I mean obviously this is a long ass wall post lol but i just want to say keep feeling, keep thinking, keep writing because you never know who you are speaking for/to in your blog."-Aurin
Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, my words mean more than I thought they did. I never thought about who might be reading this, who might feel like they could relate, until Aurin wrote me that heartfelt message and suddenly, I discovered I had a greater responsibilities-- to continue to voice the concerns, worries, frustrations and thoughts of others who may not be able to, or know how to.
My Facebook profile gives me a wide network of people in which my words can touch.
I know Aurin is going to read this, so I wanted to give her a SPECIAL thanks for helping me come to this realization.
Please continue to check You've Been Marked...because starting the 17th of December, there will be a blog written every day until January 20th, when school resumes again, and then the Blog commitment will have to change due to my schedule.
I guess I will commit to writing ONE BLOG a week from that point on.
Thank you to all those who read this, to all of those who reach out to me via Facebook, and to anyone else who may want to reach out to me-- feel free to email me at marktravisrivera@gmail.com and let me know what you think, or feel free to ask me questions.
Best wishes,
Mark
A few minutes ago I received a heart felt message from a young lady I met through a mutual friend via Facebook. She had read "The Secret Society" and I am assuming a few other of my blogs.
"Honey you don't have to thank me. I honestly really appreciate the fact that you have a blog and how honest you are in it. What is interesting about having a blog is that you never really know who will end up reading it and how they will react you know? And for the most part, I would think that most people would either disagree completely, disregard, or criticize the thoughts i have written. However, your blog is seriously the first one i have read where I actually feel like someone is addressing some of the feelings I have inside. I mean obviously this is a long ass wall post lol but i just want to say keep feeling, keep thinking, keep writing because you never know who you are speaking for/to in your blog."-Aurin
Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, my words mean more than I thought they did. I never thought about who might be reading this, who might feel like they could relate, until Aurin wrote me that heartfelt message and suddenly, I discovered I had a greater responsibilities-- to continue to voice the concerns, worries, frustrations and thoughts of others who may not be able to, or know how to.
My Facebook profile gives me a wide network of people in which my words can touch.
I know Aurin is going to read this, so I wanted to give her a SPECIAL thanks for helping me come to this realization.
Please continue to check You've Been Marked...because starting the 17th of December, there will be a blog written every day until January 20th, when school resumes again, and then the Blog commitment will have to change due to my schedule.
I guess I will commit to writing ONE BLOG a week from that point on.
Thank you to all those who read this, to all of those who reach out to me via Facebook, and to anyone else who may want to reach out to me-- feel free to email me at marktravisrivera@gmail.com and let me know what you think, or feel free to ask me questions.
Best wishes,
Mark
Sunday, December 12, 2010
The Secret Society
For decades, the idea of secrecy has plagued the Gay community at large. Although the idea of secrecy is not inclusive to just minorities who are gay, I have found it to be the most prominent for gay minorities, in particular, Blacks and Latinos.
Back in the 50's and 60's- the Gay community began to form underground communities in bars and other nightclubs, and while they were doing it way before then, it wasn't until the Stonewall Riot that the "Above Ground Underground" became the center of the issues for gays, and the need for liberation arose. After the riot, and the days that followed it, many felt the urge to be open, and those who would have been hiding behind closed doors, suddenly realized they needed to join the movement. [please google Stonewall Riot of 1969 for background information]
Yet, 41 years later and many gay Americans are still living in "The Secret Society"--the idea that they must stay underground and not speak openly about who they are. Now while I believe everyone has their right to privacy and may decide not to share it with the entire world, I think there is a serious issue when it becomes the "down low" situation.
According to About.com, the "down low" refers to men who discreetly have sex with other men while in sexual relationships with women are said to be on the "down low" (or "DL" for short). Yet, I believe that the "DL" can also refer to men who may be single, and may be seeking relationships with women, while still seeking sexual fulfillment from other men. While this issue has been covered by mass media and social media as an issue affecting African-Americans, it is also affecting other minorities within the gay community.
I believe that cultural influences and expectations give way for many to be on the down low, or in hiding, only adding to the pressure of the secret society. While many gay Americans are fighting for equality and justice, we are forgetting about one of the biggest issue that affects our community--secrecy. We have a responsibility to ourselves, to others like us, and to heterosexuals to educate and promote acceptance, especially among the African-Americans and Hispanic groups.
Personally, one major problem I have with men who are on the "down low" or in hiding, is that they allow people like me, minorities, who were brave enough to be open, to take all of the heat. Could you imagine the impact that a man, who is part of one of the major Black Fraternities in the country, could have if he was open about his interest in men? [referring to an individual I came across last night]. Or just the simple fact that more and more Black and Latino men are willing to stand up and speak out, because there is strength in numbers. No longer will I or anyone like me, have to be the sole target, and who would target a big group without meeting resistance?
In addition, I think of the women, those who have no idea what is going on behind closed doors, in the Internet browser history, and secret messages. Part of me feels bad for them, and another part of me feels angry because these men are playing with people's emotions- which will always end badly.
All of this is occurring because we've built a secret society, the idea that we can not be open and honest is a shadow, hovering over everyone. How can any real equality come, when far too many of us, rather pass [refers to a man who many would consider to be straight, and never think that they were gay] then be honest, whether out of fear or uncertainty?
My biggest hope is that this society that many of us have contribute to, crumbles and that from the debris--rises a new generation of freed people, of people that can be honest with themselves and others around them without fear of repression, isolation or harm.
Back in the 50's and 60's- the Gay community began to form underground communities in bars and other nightclubs, and while they were doing it way before then, it wasn't until the Stonewall Riot that the "Above Ground Underground" became the center of the issues for gays, and the need for liberation arose. After the riot, and the days that followed it, many felt the urge to be open, and those who would have been hiding behind closed doors, suddenly realized they needed to join the movement. [please google Stonewall Riot of 1969 for background information]
Yet, 41 years later and many gay Americans are still living in "The Secret Society"--the idea that they must stay underground and not speak openly about who they are. Now while I believe everyone has their right to privacy and may decide not to share it with the entire world, I think there is a serious issue when it becomes the "down low" situation.
According to About.com, the "down low" refers to men who discreetly have sex with other men while in sexual relationships with women are said to be on the "down low" (or "DL" for short). Yet, I believe that the "DL" can also refer to men who may be single, and may be seeking relationships with women, while still seeking sexual fulfillment from other men. While this issue has been covered by mass media and social media as an issue affecting African-Americans, it is also affecting other minorities within the gay community.
I believe that cultural influences and expectations give way for many to be on the down low, or in hiding, only adding to the pressure of the secret society. While many gay Americans are fighting for equality and justice, we are forgetting about one of the biggest issue that affects our community--secrecy. We have a responsibility to ourselves, to others like us, and to heterosexuals to educate and promote acceptance, especially among the African-Americans and Hispanic groups.
Personally, one major problem I have with men who are on the "down low" or in hiding, is that they allow people like me, minorities, who were brave enough to be open, to take all of the heat. Could you imagine the impact that a man, who is part of one of the major Black Fraternities in the country, could have if he was open about his interest in men? [referring to an individual I came across last night]. Or just the simple fact that more and more Black and Latino men are willing to stand up and speak out, because there is strength in numbers. No longer will I or anyone like me, have to be the sole target, and who would target a big group without meeting resistance?
In addition, I think of the women, those who have no idea what is going on behind closed doors, in the Internet browser history, and secret messages. Part of me feels bad for them, and another part of me feels angry because these men are playing with people's emotions- which will always end badly.
All of this is occurring because we've built a secret society, the idea that we can not be open and honest is a shadow, hovering over everyone. How can any real equality come, when far too many of us, rather pass [refers to a man who many would consider to be straight, and never think that they were gay] then be honest, whether out of fear or uncertainty?
My biggest hope is that this society that many of us have contribute to, crumbles and that from the debris--rises a new generation of freed people, of people that can be honest with themselves and others around them without fear of repression, isolation or harm.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Two Months...
Can't believe it's been two months since I've last blogged.
This is going to be a brief update:
COLLEGE has been keeping me busy, sadly, but joyfully so.
My dance company is officially a chartered SGA club at William Paterson Uni, marked dance project (a subset of Hand-Cap Dance).
Double majoring in college: Communications/Political Science.
Loving my life right now, and college has opened my eyes so much and I've met some amazing people.
As finals approach, I am looking forward to Winter Break and to be able to blog, my goal is to post a blog every day from December 17th-January 20th. [Winter Break period].
Since around, and remember, you've been marked!
This is going to be a brief update:
COLLEGE has been keeping me busy, sadly, but joyfully so.
My dance company is officially a chartered SGA club at William Paterson Uni, marked dance project (a subset of Hand-Cap Dance).
Double majoring in college: Communications/Political Science.
Loving my life right now, and college has opened my eyes so much and I've met some amazing people.
As finals approach, I am looking forward to Winter Break and to be able to blog, my goal is to post a blog every day from December 17th-January 20th. [Winter Break period].
Since around, and remember, you've been marked!
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