When my mom came home from the hospital earlier this year, she was frustrated with her slow recovery. One night when I visited, she was in the den, looking at the computer and crying. My mother has always exuded strength, so the few times I've seen her cry have been devastating.
I asked her what was wrong and she told me she couldn't remember how the computer or any of the other technology worked. She felt dumb. Thankfully I was sitting because a sense of sadness and fear nearly knocked me over. Deep in my soul, I felt her frustration at realizing that her cognitive skills were impaired. It is literally my biggest fear (recognizing your own loss of cognizance with no power to stop it) and my mom was experiencing it in front of me. It still haunts me. It was one of the most heartbreaking things anyone has ever said to me. I always knew losing a parent would be hard, and I dread the moment it happens, but I never realized how difficult it would be just to see them getting old. Even though she had expressed to me many times in the hospital how much she loved and appreciated my Dad for being there (along with other family members and friends) in that moment, she seemed so alone. It really hit me that although the whole family was going through a tough time, she was the only one physically going through it.
So I did my best to let her know that she's not alone and that she's not dumb, she's just still recovering. Overcoming my own desire to curl up in a fetal position and cry, I told her she had come so far in a short time, and that considering how much she had been through, it was amazing she was even here.
She thanked me and then said something else that truly melted me. She said that when she was in the hospital, thinking of me and my brother gave her the will to live and was the only thing that got her through it all.
I've always felt loved by my parents. They have gone out of their way to support me my entire life. But until that moment, I don't think I ever realized how much my brother and I really mean to them. When she talked in the hospital, it was usually a mix of hallucinations and memories. The constant was that she talked about me and my brother. There was confusion some times (she often talked about me on the swim team, but that was Mike) but it was clear we were on her mind. She didn't simply love us, she lived for us.
When she came home, she improved a bit, only to relapse and go back into the hospital and nursing home for a couple weeks. There were a few days where she was almost completely unresponsive. I was sure that it was the end. And yet, her condition improved again, and she came home again. Since she came home that second time, she has continually gotten better and stronger. She is incredible. Her strength is unbelievable.
And yet, I don't know if she would've made it without my Dad. Thinking of me and my brother may have helped her get through emotionally, but my Dad has been the physical embodiment of love and support. I don't want to romanticize a very difficult time, because there were moments when they were both extremely frustrated and tired and upset, but I've learned more about love and family in this past year than my entire life.
My parents have been through a lot since they got married in 1968, and this past year, their 50th together, may have been the toughest. Many people say "I'd do anything for you," but how many really mean it. Will they go to the hospital or nursing home for hours every day, week after week? Will they help their partner go to the bathroom and eat and get dressed every day?
Through my parents, I have witnessed and felt real, deep, enduring love. Sometimes it's intimidating because I don't know if I'm capable of it; at the same time, it is illuminating and inspiring. I'm lucky to have an amazing partner in my life and I can only aspire to give her as much love and support as my parents have given to me and to each other.
Last year around this time my mom was getting surgery on her spine. She was still walking then. At the time, I couldn't help but focus on the unpleasant possibilities. I was scared and knew it would be a tough recovery. I had no idea how rough it would get. She hasn't walked since.
6 months later, when I wrote A Coma for Christmas, I was even deeper into negative thoughts. However, seeing my mom fighting to recover forced me to overcome that negativity. I tried to end the poem on somewhat of a positive note; I thought if I put it out in the public, maybe it would sink in privately. I honestly didn't share the subdued optimism that I expressed in the poem. In fact, I was hesitant to publish it because I thought it was too hopeful and I was sure something horrible was going to happen once I pressed the "Publish" button. And then a few weeks later she was back in the hospital and I took it as proof that I should never have any optimism whatsoever.
But she's still here. She's still her. And for half a century, my Dad has been the rock beside her.
One of my tattoos states "The struggle is the blessing." It's not always easy to remember that, but it's a vital truth. Life is struggle. It's amazing anybody gets through the day. But this life is all we have, and we need to find a reason to keep fighting, to keep struggling.
My parents have shown me that love is the most powerful reason.
Happy 50th Anniversary Mom and Dad. Your love is one for the ages. Thank you. I love you.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
Thursday, June 21, 2018
Wednesday, June 13, 2018
Ten Years Gone (Holding On)
I've been working at Pathways/Senderos for 10 years. Before working there, I had never been at a job for longer than 2 years. It's the best youth program I've ever come across, and I'm proud to be a part of it.
This is Pathways 25th year. It's rather incredible that a small non-profit in New Britain has lasted so long, especially considering the state budget cuts over the last few years. It's a testament to the staff, the board, and the program's methodology. If our program didn't work, we would never receive the support we do from the community and from funders. Good programs lose funding and disappear all the time, though, so our board and staff deserve a lot of credit for the work they put in.
I wrote about the Founder of Pathways, my former boss Roseanne, when she passed away last year. She built the program from the ground up and received national recognition for her work. She laid the groundwork for the agency and to this day we are still benefiting from a lot of what she did.
When she left, it would have been very easy (and common) for the agency to collapse. Many folks were worried that we wouldn't survive.
Thankfully, the people who had worked so hard to get the program to its high level of success continued to do the same when she retired. Staff and volunteers provided guidance and assistance to students, and the board of directors ensured that staff members had the support needed to move forward and determine the future direction of the program. Most importantly, the two staff members (Nick and Heather) who had been at the agency the longest, and who were personally selected to secede Roseanne, worked harder than ever in their new roles of Co-Executive Directors to provide the same level of service to our boys and girls.
There were certainly difficulties. Receiving less funding every year because of state budget cuts hasn't helped, yet we have managed to find other funding by diversifying our donor base. Even though we haven't been able to take as many field trips or buy as much food for students, we are structurally and financially secure. We are collaborating with more programs and agencies throughout the city and expanding our impact even further.
When Nick and Heather took over as Directors, we had to pull off a 20th Anniversary Gala that was more than halfway through the planning stages. It could've gone horribly wrong, which would've been extremely embarrassing, since legislators, community agencies, alumni, funders, and our supporters had already RSVP'd.
However, it went incredibly well. We raised money, celebrated our successes, and reassured people that the agency was going to be just fine.
The night of the Gala, UConn was playing in the NCAA tournament, and we had the game on. This was the year Shabazz Napier was a Senior and Kevin Ollie had taken over as coach for Jim Calhoun. UConn had been suspended the year before, a lot of players left once Calhoun was out, and the future of UConn basketball was looking abysmal; yet Ollie and Napier silenced all doubters and won the title. After it happened, I was going to write a blog post about how Heather and Nick were like Ollie, successfully taking over a historic franchise from a well-known, accomplished leader. At the time it was a great metaphor; it would've been one of my best posts! But considering recent happenings with the UConn Men's basketball team and Kevin Ollie, I'm glad I didn't write it. The metaphor didn't really hold up because UConn Men's basketball is failing miserably and we've just gotten better and better.
It's safe to say that Pathways is in good hands. Since our 20th Anniversary, we have continued to see the same success; in fact, more of our graduates are going to (and completing) college. We recently held a 25th Anniversary, which was even better than the 20th.
We love what we do. More than ever, the program is a manifestation of that love. It helps that I work with one of my best friends, and I think our friendship greatly affects the program (how it is run, the atmosphere at the Center). It also helps that all of our staff members care about the program, the kids, and each other.
We call the Center a "parallel family" for a reason; we're not just a building where kids hang out after school. We are another family for these kids, sometimes the only one they have. Our family includes our staff, our kids, volunteers, board members, and graduates. It is an expansive support system for everyone involved and it goes well beyond academic assistance and sex education.
We always tout our stats (100% high school graduation, 80% go on to higher education, 94% working, etc.) because they are great, but there's much more behind the numbers. All of us, from staff to board to volunteers, have made meaningful, lifelong connections with many of our participants throughout the years. I'm a former student's Godfather! Technically, Confirmation Sponsor but still.
I have been extremely lucky to work at Pathways for so long. No matter how long I'm here, I want the program to continue on forever. I'm proud to say that we run an agency that has been proven to help children succeed in school, careers, and life in general. The work that we have done has created a foundation that can and should be sustained and replicated for as long as children need support and guidance.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
Me, 2008
This is Pathways 25th year. It's rather incredible that a small non-profit in New Britain has lasted so long, especially considering the state budget cuts over the last few years. It's a testament to the staff, the board, and the program's methodology. If our program didn't work, we would never receive the support we do from the community and from funders. Good programs lose funding and disappear all the time, though, so our board and staff deserve a lot of credit for the work they put in.
I wrote about the Founder of Pathways, my former boss Roseanne, when she passed away last year. She built the program from the ground up and received national recognition for her work. She laid the groundwork for the agency and to this day we are still benefiting from a lot of what she did.
When she left, it would have been very easy (and common) for the agency to collapse. Many folks were worried that we wouldn't survive.
Thankfully, the people who had worked so hard to get the program to its high level of success continued to do the same when she retired. Staff and volunteers provided guidance and assistance to students, and the board of directors ensured that staff members had the support needed to move forward and determine the future direction of the program. Most importantly, the two staff members (Nick and Heather) who had been at the agency the longest, and who were personally selected to secede Roseanne, worked harder than ever in their new roles of Co-Executive Directors to provide the same level of service to our boys and girls.
There were certainly difficulties. Receiving less funding every year because of state budget cuts hasn't helped, yet we have managed to find other funding by diversifying our donor base. Even though we haven't been able to take as many field trips or buy as much food for students, we are structurally and financially secure. We are collaborating with more programs and agencies throughout the city and expanding our impact even further.
When Nick and Heather took over as Directors, we had to pull off a 20th Anniversary Gala that was more than halfway through the planning stages. It could've gone horribly wrong, which would've been extremely embarrassing, since legislators, community agencies, alumni, funders, and our supporters had already RSVP'd.
However, it went incredibly well. We raised money, celebrated our successes, and reassured people that the agency was going to be just fine.
The night of the Gala, UConn was playing in the NCAA tournament, and we had the game on. This was the year Shabazz Napier was a Senior and Kevin Ollie had taken over as coach for Jim Calhoun. UConn had been suspended the year before, a lot of players left once Calhoun was out, and the future of UConn basketball was looking abysmal; yet Ollie and Napier silenced all doubters and won the title. After it happened, I was going to write a blog post about how Heather and Nick were like Ollie, successfully taking over a historic franchise from a well-known, accomplished leader. At the time it was a great metaphor; it would've been one of my best posts! But considering recent happenings with the UConn Men's basketball team and Kevin Ollie, I'm glad I didn't write it. The metaphor didn't really hold up because UConn Men's basketball is failing miserably and we've just gotten better and better.
It's safe to say that Pathways is in good hands. Since our 20th Anniversary, we have continued to see the same success; in fact, more of our graduates are going to (and completing) college. We recently held a 25th Anniversary, which was even better than the 20th.
We love what we do. More than ever, the program is a manifestation of that love. It helps that I work with one of my best friends, and I think our friendship greatly affects the program (how it is run, the atmosphere at the Center). It also helps that all of our staff members care about the program, the kids, and each other.
We call the Center a "parallel family" for a reason; we're not just a building where kids hang out after school. We are another family for these kids, sometimes the only one they have. Our family includes our staff, our kids, volunteers, board members, and graduates. It is an expansive support system for everyone involved and it goes well beyond academic assistance and sex education.
We always tout our stats (100% high school graduation, 80% go on to higher education, 94% working, etc.) because they are great, but there's much more behind the numbers. All of us, from staff to board to volunteers, have made meaningful, lifelong connections with many of our participants throughout the years. I'm a former student's Godfather! Technically, Confirmation Sponsor but still.
I have been extremely lucky to work at Pathways for so long. No matter how long I'm here, I want the program to continue on forever. I'm proud to say that we run an agency that has been proven to help children succeed in school, careers, and life in general. The work that we have done has created a foundation that can and should be sustained and replicated for as long as children need support and guidance.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
Friday, May 25, 2018
The Greatest Comments on My Posts
Comment sections are generally cesspools of the worst people with the worst ideas on this flat Earth. I love them.
I've been blogging on this here site for 6 and a half years. It's been great, but my comment section is dry as hell. It's possible that anyone reading this simply doesn't want to engage with me, and that's fine (jerks). But Blogger doesn't exactly make it easy, and no matter what I've done, they require people to sign in or give personal info or whatever and personally, I wouldn't even do all that to comment on a website.
I have gotten a few comments from real people (mostly positive, so that's great) but the majority of the comments are from bots.
For example:
"Come and see how THOUSAND of people like YOU are earning their LIVING online and are fulfilling their wildest dreams TODAY. GET FREE ACCESS INSTANLY"
or:
"Vaporfi is the #1 electronic cigarettes provider on the market."
Now those comments may very well be true, but they are hardly relevant to the discussion. The second comment was on Stoned Willy's article tearing down Bill Cosby. WHAT DO ELECTRONIC CIGARETTES HAVE TO DO WITH A SEXUAL PREDATOR, ANONYMOUS COMMENTER?
So...those are annoying. But spam is a part of life on the internet.
And sometimes, spam can create amazing moments. Out of all the comments I've received, two really stick out. One is from a bot, and it is so perfect, a real human could never have done it. The level of irony can only be reached through computer algorithms.
Last year, I wrote about my time with cutlery company Cutco; more specifically, my time with their marketing/sales division, Vector Marketing. The post was titled, The Cutco Cult, just to give you an idea of the stance I took on the company.
Well, apparently the algorithm for a particular bot called "Cutco Knive Reviews" doesn't assess the quality or tone of any mention of Cutco. All mentions of Cutco are positive to Cutco Knive Reviews. Which led to this amazing comment:
Great information �� keep up the good work...
Remember, this was on a post called The Cutco Cult. That irony is so thick you could cut it with a $79 bread knife from Cutco. On sale now.
But my all time favorite comment is from "Anonymous" on my post Behind the Music: The Itsy Bitsy Spider - The Dark Side of the Nursery.
This was a ridiculous post claiming to uncover the real meaning behind the nursery rhyme. I tried to be as absurd as possible, while still maintaining a sense of believability. Apparently, it worked, even though I used the labels "just fucking with you" and "making shit up" for the post's search words. Here's the comment, which came 6 years after the post was published:
Complete and utter bollocks. You could put any meaning to any old nursery rhyme if the mood took you, but this is just pure fantastical nonsense and utter tripe. Insy winsy spider a metaphor for alcoholism, the only pissed up person here, is you.
Utter bollocks! Tripe! Insy winsy! "The only pissed up person here, is you." Yes!!! Incredible!! I pissed off a proper Englishman. This comment brings up so many questions. Was he reading my post in a pub in Manchester? Did he slam his stout on the table after reading it? Did he tell all his friends in the pub about the American twat spouting utter bollocks? How the hell did he come across my post? Was he googling the nursery rhyme? Is he president of the Insy Winsy Spider fan club? Did his grandmother sing the nursery rhyme to him as a child? Why did this post upset him so?!
Anyways. It made me laugh.
So yeah, comment on my posts. Do it on Facebook or Twitter if it's easier. I need more people telling me I'm pissed up, dammit! I doubt you'll top my English chum, but it's worth a shot.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
Thursday, May 10, 2018
The Case for Legalization
Connecticut is in a severe economic crisis. Lawmakers have said they are willing to put everything on the table to solve the problem.
Then they decided not to vote for marijuana legalization. They didn't vote against it, they didn't even hold a vote on it. They also delayed the vote on tolls and casinos because really, why do anything at all? The crises will handle itself!
If their inaction pisses you off as much as it pisses me off, contact your reps. You can start with the CT Speaker of the House, Joe Aresimowicz. Email him at Joe.Aresimowicz@cga.ct.gov.
In the past few years, several states have legalized recreational weed and/or medical weed. Many of these states have even closed their budget gaps because of the tax revenue windfalls created by legal weed. Colorado made $67 million from marijuana (through taxes, licenses, and fees) in the first year of legalization, 2014. Last year they made $247 million. Our neighbors to the north and to the east have both legalized weed recently. It's not hard to smell which way the wind is blowing. And yet...
Malloy is an idiot. That has to be it, right? That's everybody's go to reason for things sucking in Connecticut. And he does deserve some of the blame; he has said he would veto any bill to legalize weed, so he hasn't exactly set an agreeable atmosphere for legalization. But no bill has even gotten to his desk.
Maybe the Puritanical belief system is still too firmly ingrained in Connecticut's psyche to get over our qualms about the "morality" of legal drugs. We are liberal when it comes to most things, but as a whole, Connecticut is uptight as hell. It was only a few years ago that stores could sell alcohol on Sunday.
To be fair, some people have legitimate concerns about legalizing weed. These concerns are based on years of anti-marijuana propaganda, but hey, people are still concerned. Despite the fact that it is not nearly as harmful as alcohol or tobacco, it's true that kids shouldn't be smoking or eating it, and people shouldn't be driving impaired. However, the science and research shows that we needn't be that concerned. There has been no increase in the rates of usage among kids in states where it has been legalized. People do drugs at around the same rate no matter what. Legalization doesn't make someone who wouldn't smoke pick up smoking. It just means people that want to smoke can do so a little more easily. We will have to be careful about letting kids get it, because there have been cases where kids accidentally ate weed edibles, but those kids are fine! They took a nap and got over it. Honestly though, those few incidents don't outweigh the benefits. Besides, if we really cared about kids, we would have banned smoking cigarettes years ago. And guns, but that's a different post.
Driving safety is a more valid concern. One study showed that Colorado has seen more accidents involving weed since legalization. Some advocates of legal weed have even cited this study as an issue. The thing is, the study never says that weed is a cause of these accidents! It also says very clearly that the stated results are inconclusive, and that most of the people involved in the accidents also had other drugs in their system, mostly alcohol. The idea that weed would lead to more accidents makes a kind of logical sense: some people are awful drivers, and any added amount of distraction is bad. Intuition doesn't always equate to fact, though. When people are tested for weed after an accident, that test doesn't show if the person smoked an hour ago or a month ago. It would be the same results. There's simply no causation between weed and an increase in accidents. And again, if we cared so much about impaired driving, we would ban alcohol, or at least enforce stricter DUI laws.
As always, there are other, more absurd arguments for keeping weed illegal. Most people know that the hysterics shown in "educational" films like Reefer Madness were ridiculous propaganda, so the anti-weed people have gone to different, although similarly absurd lengths to make their argument. Illinois police recently said they will have to KILL THEIR OWN DOGS if weed becomes legal! The canines in the K-9 unit would be laid off and there are simply no alternatives but to kill those unemployed bum dogs. Obviously. Duh.
Others hang on to simpler (yet just as wrong) claims like weed is a gateway drug. These claims are often put forward by people or groups with vested interests in keeping weed illegal. Not to fall into conspiracy theories, but it's really hard to understand the hesitance of some politicians on the issue of legalization, especially in a place like Connecticut. Maybe it's because the pharmaceutical companies don't want a drug on the market that they don't own. Doctors in Maine (and all over, really) suggested using marijuana to help fight the opioid epidemic. You know, the epidemic that is killing about 60,000 people a year for the past few years; the deadly epidemic that was started by Purdue Pharma and unscrupulous doctors who pushed opioids on unassuming patients. The epidemic that pharmaceutical companies are still profiting from.
States with legal medicinal marijuana have lower rates of opioid overdoses than states without. We have to decide if we care more about people dying than about people getting high. There have simply never been any marijuana overdoses. Weed can also help alcohol/drug relapses in addicts. People getting high on weed is objectively preferable to people dying from overdoses.
People do drugs, it should be a priority to make sure they are doing it in the least harmful manner. Legalize and regulate all drugs. Places that have needle exchanges for drug addicts have lower incidences of HIV/AIDs and overdoses. It would be better if those people didn't do the drugs, but they are doing them; let's make it as safe as possible so they don't hurt others and they minimize the damage to themselves. Limit their doses, and make sure they aren't accidentally getting fentanyl.
We need to be much more practical. Legalizing weed, in particular, should be a no-brainer (pun based on anti-weed propaganda intended). Legalizing weed can cut down on overdoses, so even if it means more people overall smoke weed than before (which isn't necessarily going to happen) we should legalize it for healthcare reasons. Weed can help fund schools and infrastructure (or pensions or social services or the thousands of other things we don't have the money to pay for in CT) so we should legalize it for financial reasons.
There's just so many reasons to legalize it, and I'm not even getting into the racial disparities when it comes to the criminalization of weed, even in that bastion of liberal progressivism, New York City. All races do drugs at approximately the same rate, yet (surprise!) white people get arrested for it much less. That also means that once we legalize, we must immediately vacate all prior arrests and release anyone in jail on weed related charges.
There are simply no more excuses for keeping weed illegal. It's practical on a social, moral, and financial level, and it has bipartisan support. Make something good happen for once, Connecticut! Email/call/harass (legally) your legislators here.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
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Wednesday, April 25, 2018
The Truth Behind The Hug Shared Round The World
Ferguson, Missouri. 2014. Michael Brown, an unarmed 18 year old black man, was gunned down by a police officer and left in the street for hours. Over the next weeks, protests across the country erupted between mostly black citizens and the police.
The country was tense. Heated Facebook exchanges occurred daily. People equated the Ferguson "riots" with the LA riots of the 90s, forgetting that over 60 people died in the LA riots. Regardless, it was a very serious situation, and the tension between police (and many white Americans) and black Americans was at a level not seen in years. America, specifically white America, needed something, anything, to assure us that everything would return to normal. All we saw on tv were black people and police yelling at each other, oftentimes exchanging projectiles: water bottles on one side, metal gas canisters/rubber bullets/pepper spray on the other. America was seemingly falling apart.
And then, an image went viral. An image that restored our faith in humanity. An image that held within it the promise of a better country. The promise that our differences were not so vast and our grievances were not so serious that a simple gesture of kindness couldn't fix it. And here was that gesture captured on film for the world to see: a black child at a protest in Portland, Oregon, crying his eyes out, embracing a white cop in a riot helmet. Beautiful. Powerful
This was the real America.
Racism ended that day. Police brutality ceased. White people gained rhythm. It was glorious.
Tragically, none of that actually happened. When the photo went viral, the media framed it as an inspiring, kind-hearted moment that we all need to emulate. We should all try to be like the young boy, clearly upset at the events occurring in the world, yet embracing someone viewed as "the enemy." If we were just able to put aside our differences for one moment, we could come together as a nation and move on from the racial tension.
Of course, that was complete bullshit. But it's not uncommon for the media, and us, the consumers, to reach for feel good moment that can distract us from the deeper issues and give us hope that "normalcy" will return.
This particular case is worse than normal because the story behind the photo completely contradicts the positive narrative that was created. But worst of all, and the reason that I'm discussing this image, is that the boy in the picture, along with his adopted family, just died in a crash that has been deemed intentional.
The boy, Devonte, was adopted with 5 other children by two white women. After the pic went viral, one of his mothers was quick to explain how she had encouraged Devonte to "face his fears" of police by...confronting and embracing police. This should have been the first sign that something was seriously wrong in this family situation.
Even if the family situation wasn't fucked up, the idea that it is up to black people (black children even!) to ease racial tension and stop police brutality would still be problematic, insulting even. The issue of police brutality is not going to be solved by black people hugging cops. It's not about them "confronting their fears." That's trying to treat a symptom instead of the disease. In fact, it's trying to "solve" a natural, life-saving reaction that many black people have towards police based on personal experience and US history.
So there were some serious issues. On top of the fact that the women were abusive assholes, they were also white parents of adopted children of color. It's great that they were willing to adopt outside of their race, but oftentimes that willingness is based on a vision of one's self as some kind of "savior." I've personally experienced this mentality; at least two people on separate occasions have told me they want to adopt African babies to save them. And if that conscious or subconscious attitude doesn't exist, white parents with black children still often have difficulty dealing with the realities of race and the myriad issues their children will face.
In this instance, the mother could not have been more clueless if she were Stacey Dash. She was offensively clueless. Videos of black people getting killed or abused were going viral every week. Across the country, black people were protesting the very real, very long-standing issue of police violence against minority communities. Yet she thought that Devonte's intense fear of cops was just something he needed to "get over," not a pervasive societal issue that we all need to confront.
A lot of good-hearted white people think they are improving race relations simply by adopting a child of another race, or by dating someone of another race. It's good to not be biased in who you date or love, but it has literally zero effect on society in general. You don't deserve an award. You're a normal person. Congrats! Similarly, many people think they're helping when they make their child do something like wear a sign that says "free hugs," but often they don’t fully understand the implications of their actions. And of course, sometimes, it's just to make themselves feel better.
Devonte shouldn't have had to go through that moment. He was clearly not comfortable or happy. Then he had to deal with the fact that the whole world saw him in this intense, emotional moment, and that was what he would be known for going forward. He also had to deal with his mothers telling anybody within earshot that they "saved" him from a life of violence and drugs by adopting him. So it's no assumption to think they thought of themselves as saviors; they literally said it!
I don't want to theorize too much about what was going through anybody's mind, but I was always disturbed by that picture. All I could see was the fear and hurt in Devonte's face. Knowing his family history simply reinforces that feeling. Devonte's biological aunt fought for custody and lost in 2010. Was he aware of that? There were allegations of abuse by his adopted parents later in 2010. Was he as afraid of his new mothers as he was of police? It's very possible that in that moment captured on film, he subconsciously or even consciously knew he was being used as a pawn in a fake uplifting moment.
A hug is not solving racism. An embrace is not stopping police brutality. The "political differences" we have are not merely based on which politician we prefer, they are based on serious issues and the way we all see and experience the world. They can not simply be put aside. There's nothing wrong with a hug, per se. I love hugs! But a forced hug between a terrified child and an authoritative figure in riot gear is not a sign of progress; it's a sign that we simply do not have the capabilities to honestly address our problems as a nation.
We want simple answers. We want a heartwarming story. But we have to stop accepting things on their surface and look for the truth, even if it's ugly.
Inspectors believe the parents intentionally drove their family off a cliff. Neighbors reported them two weeks before the crash, telling police that Devonte came to their houses every day asking for food. The poor boy probably lived his whole life in fear and was killed by two people who viewed themselves as his savior. That is the story. It is sad as hell, but it's more interesting and it's more real than the story we wanted to believe.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
The country was tense. Heated Facebook exchanges occurred daily. People equated the Ferguson "riots" with the LA riots of the 90s, forgetting that over 60 people died in the LA riots. Regardless, it was a very serious situation, and the tension between police (and many white Americans) and black Americans was at a level not seen in years. America, specifically white America, needed something, anything, to assure us that everything would return to normal. All we saw on tv were black people and police yelling at each other, oftentimes exchanging projectiles: water bottles on one side, metal gas canisters/rubber bullets/pepper spray on the other. America was seemingly falling apart.
And then, an image went viral. An image that restored our faith in humanity. An image that held within it the promise of a better country. The promise that our differences were not so vast and our grievances were not so serious that a simple gesture of kindness couldn't fix it. And here was that gesture captured on film for the world to see: a black child at a protest in Portland, Oregon, crying his eyes out, embracing a white cop in a riot helmet. Beautiful. Powerful
This was the real America.

Tragically, none of that actually happened. When the photo went viral, the media framed it as an inspiring, kind-hearted moment that we all need to emulate. We should all try to be like the young boy, clearly upset at the events occurring in the world, yet embracing someone viewed as "the enemy." If we were just able to put aside our differences for one moment, we could come together as a nation and move on from the racial tension.
Of course, that was complete bullshit. But it's not uncommon for the media, and us, the consumers, to reach for feel good moment that can distract us from the deeper issues and give us hope that "normalcy" will return.
This particular case is worse than normal because the story behind the photo completely contradicts the positive narrative that was created. But worst of all, and the reason that I'm discussing this image, is that the boy in the picture, along with his adopted family, just died in a crash that has been deemed intentional.
The boy, Devonte, was adopted with 5 other children by two white women. After the pic went viral, one of his mothers was quick to explain how she had encouraged Devonte to "face his fears" of police by...confronting and embracing police. This should have been the first sign that something was seriously wrong in this family situation.
Even if the family situation wasn't fucked up, the idea that it is up to black people (black children even!) to ease racial tension and stop police brutality would still be problematic, insulting even. The issue of police brutality is not going to be solved by black people hugging cops. It's not about them "confronting their fears." That's trying to treat a symptom instead of the disease. In fact, it's trying to "solve" a natural, life-saving reaction that many black people have towards police based on personal experience and US history.
In addition to all that, the family situation was fucked up. One of the mothers had been charged with domestic violence. Friends expressed concern about how the women were treating the children, and neighbors reported that they would deprive children of food as punishment.
So there were some serious issues. On top of the fact that the women were abusive assholes, they were also white parents of adopted children of color. It's great that they were willing to adopt outside of their race, but oftentimes that willingness is based on a vision of one's self as some kind of "savior." I've personally experienced this mentality; at least two people on separate occasions have told me they want to adopt African babies to save them. And if that conscious or subconscious attitude doesn't exist, white parents with black children still often have difficulty dealing with the realities of race and the myriad issues their children will face.
In this instance, the mother could not have been more clueless if she were Stacey Dash. She was offensively clueless. Videos of black people getting killed or abused were going viral every week. Across the country, black people were protesting the very real, very long-standing issue of police violence against minority communities. Yet she thought that Devonte's intense fear of cops was just something he needed to "get over," not a pervasive societal issue that we all need to confront.
A lot of good-hearted white people think they are improving race relations simply by adopting a child of another race, or by dating someone of another race. It's good to not be biased in who you date or love, but it has literally zero effect on society in general. You don't deserve an award. You're a normal person. Congrats! Similarly, many people think they're helping when they make their child do something like wear a sign that says "free hugs," but often they don’t fully understand the implications of their actions. And of course, sometimes, it's just to make themselves feel better.
Devonte shouldn't have had to go through that moment. He was clearly not comfortable or happy. Then he had to deal with the fact that the whole world saw him in this intense, emotional moment, and that was what he would be known for going forward. He also had to deal with his mothers telling anybody within earshot that they "saved" him from a life of violence and drugs by adopting him. So it's no assumption to think they thought of themselves as saviors; they literally said it!
I don't want to theorize too much about what was going through anybody's mind, but I was always disturbed by that picture. All I could see was the fear and hurt in Devonte's face. Knowing his family history simply reinforces that feeling. Devonte's biological aunt fought for custody and lost in 2010. Was he aware of that? There were allegations of abuse by his adopted parents later in 2010. Was he as afraid of his new mothers as he was of police? It's very possible that in that moment captured on film, he subconsciously or even consciously knew he was being used as a pawn in a fake uplifting moment.
Inspectors believe the parents intentionally drove their family off a cliff. Neighbors reported them two weeks before the crash, telling police that Devonte came to their houses every day asking for food. The poor boy probably lived his whole life in fear and was killed by two people who viewed themselves as his savior. That is the story. It is sad as hell, but it's more interesting and it's more real than the story we wanted to believe.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
Thursday, March 29, 2018
Why March/Protest/Do Anything at All
I've always been a realist more than an optimist. I like to call myself a cynical optimist. However, since February 14th, students around the country have been chipping away at the cynic in me.
The March for Our Lives took place on Saturday, March 24th. There were over 700 planned rallies across the country, including in Hartford, CT. Several thousand people gathered near the Capitol building to protest for sensible gun reform.
The rallies were inspired by the students from Parkland High School who survived a mass shooting. It was supported by numerous organizations, including Moms Demand Action and Sandy Hook Promise, non-profits started in the wake of the tragedy in Newtown. The event was hosted by the nephew of Dawn Hochsprung, the principal of Sandy Hook Elementary who gave her life to protect her students. Her daughter spoke as well, joined by several other people affected by gun violence and politicians in favor of gun reform.
It was a powerful event. But what did it accomplish? That's always the criticism of protesting and marching. What does the act of making a sign or marching down a street directly accomplish?
It's true that the most creative sign in the world is not going to stop a mass shooting from occurring. But the question is based on a false premise. No change occurs overnight, especially political and cultural change, both of which are needed to address the issue of gun violence. Rallies are a means to achieving a goal, not the goal itself.
However, the best rallies do accomplish practical goals. In Hartford alone, there were dozens of volunteers registering people to vote. Just for that reason the rallies were successful.
But practicality isn't the only reason for a rally. One of the purposes of a protest or rally is to spark the conversation and raise awareness. Naysayers will claim everyone is aware of the issue, or that we've already had the conversation. However, not everyone believes in the urgency of the movement, and seeing millions of people across the country marching might inspire them. Also, we've never really had this conversation, except in our Facebook feeds. As a country, we've managed to avoid this conversation almost entirely, that's why it's gotten to this point. That's why Black Lives Matter became so big and important, because we ignored the issue of race and police brutality for so long. We keep ignoring the gun debate. After every tragedy involving guns, we're told it's not the right time to discuss politics (when it's an act of violence by a Muslim on the other hand, certain people are ready to ban all Muslims from the country before the bodies are cold). Now, the students of Parkland, and the countless other students and parents and regular people across the country, are saying we are sick of the violence and we are going to have this conversation until real reforms are made.
These rallies inspire people to act, but they also serve as a warning to legislators. One of the themes of the day was that legislators will be voted out if they don't listen to the people's demands. That is democracy in action. That's how government should work.
But the greatest, most important purpose of a rally, is to provide a feeling of community, to simply show people that there are like-minded individuals looking to make change. So often, we read the news and we see horrible things happening and as individuals, we feel hopeless. There's simply nothing to be done, the world sucks, let's abandon all hope. It's overwhelming. It feels like maybe you're the only one who really cares about the issue and you don't understand why nothing is being done but then you don't know what you can do and then you feel like part of the problem. It's a cycle of loneliness. It creates despair. It creates numbness. So, horrible things happen, we get upset for a bit, then we shrug our shoulders. It's what happened after Sandy Hook.
A rally can bring back that all important sense of hope. If not hope, at least a sense that people care. It shows you're not alone in your misery. Sometimes that's enough. Maybe we can't change anything, but we don't have to like it dammit! We may lose. We may not get what we want. But we're not simply going to accept it.
Crowds give off energy (like houses!). At a sports arena, you feel it most in tense moments or after winning scores. At a friend's party, the vibe is happy and people are enjoying themselves. At a funeral, the opposite. The setting, the group, the reason for being there all add to the vibe. At a rally like March for Our Lives, everyone is there with a purpose. For some, the purpose is simply to hang out with friends and share pictures of #TheMovement on social media. That happens with any movement, and it's fine! Fun should be had at these events! We need to keep our sense of humor. Yet even the people just there for the fun of it truly want a more peaceful existence. We all want to be safe and to keep children safe. From my experience on Saturday, and at other marches I've attended, most people are there with a clear vision for what they want. For a clear idea of what the Parkland students want, as well as what most people at the March want, click here.
The energy at the March was incredible; it was hopeful for change, it was sad for the loss and the death that has occurred, it was nervous because we all realize the challenges ahead, it was fun because people are showing off their creativity and spreading positivity; it was synergistic because we were all participating in something bigger than ourselves.
It's very easy to say protesting or marching or doing anything isn't really going to have an effect. I've heard, and probably said, something close to the following many times: "Nothing's gonna change anyway, what's the point" And things may not change. That's a definite possibility. In fact, looking at the history of the United States, in the best case scenario, it will probably have a small, incremental effect that lasts for a few years. If that's the best we can get, why even bother?
Because it can always get worse. Because incremental change can and does save lives. Because fuck them, that's why.
Fuck the NRA for steadily attacking the Parkland survivors and for opposing any change whatsoever that might save lives. Oh, and for taking money from foreign countries to influence US elections. I guess it's "International" Rifle Association now?
Fuck the mainstream (not fringe--mainstream) Republican politicians and media sites that have been spreading lies about the teens because they know they are losing the argument and can not win an honest debate.
These kids have lived their whole lives with mass shootings as a reality. The Parkland kids specifically are actual survivors of a mass shooting. The same survivors who politicians and gun rights groups are quick to send thoughts and prayers to after the shooting. I guess they don't want survivors talking, just shutting up and taking the prayers. Unless those survivors agree with their politics, of course. They found the one Conservative student at Parkland who opposes gun reform and he's a conservative hero. And he has every right to voice his opinion! Just like the kids who want gun reform. It's simply a double standard: if you agree with us, we'll give you a key to the empire! If you disagree, we will try to ruin your life. That is not an exaggeration.
They do it with athletes, too. Lebron wants gun reform or less police brutality? "Shut up and dribble!" Shaq wants more cops in schools instead of gun reform? "We love you Shaq!"
Teens have every right to speak up and speak out, and people have every right to disagree with them. I don't agree with everything the Parkland students have said. At the Hartford rally, a young woman praised Nancy Pelosi and my eyes rolled so far back in my head I saw my own ass crack. But what we are seeing now is beyond disagreements. There are literal attacks. Before, the attacks and the conspiracies came from fringe groups like InfoWars, who started the Sandy Hook lies. Parents of murdered Sandy Hook children were called actors and are still getting harassed today. Now, InfoWars' biggest fan is the President of the United States. The fringe has become mainstream and are now in power. If you're conservative and you think these people don't speak for you, then speak up, because I hate to tell you, but this is your party now.
John McCain's daughter, Meghan McCain, a "sensible conservative" criticized the students' tough language. Are you fucking serious, Meg? Gun rights activists have been calling for literal war for decades. Charlton Heston said you can take his guns from his cold dead hands. Now you're mad at the rhetoric? The hypocrisy has summited Mt. Everest.
I hope the marches and rallies continue. I hope teens and children keep making their voices heard. I hope adults listen and act.
I also hope that people start applying a similar energy to other worthwhile causes, especially causes that are closely interconnected with gun reform. The strongest criticism about the Parkland students is not about the students themselves but of the media coverage. There is a noticeable difference in the media coverage of protestors after Parkland compared to protestors in Baton Rouge after police killed Alton Sterling (and yes, of course the cops avoided all charges).
People have to understand that these issues are part of the same problem. We have to address the way racism plays a part in our discussion of gun laws. The 2nd Amendment was literally created to protect white people from "scary" black hordes. So were police, as a matter of fact.
Gun reform and police demilitarization must go hand in hand. To their credit, the most visible Parkland kids have acknowledged their privilege and shed light on other students and movements around the country. Recently, black Parkland students held a rally to discuss their views on proposed solutions to school shootings, such as more cops in schools (SPOILER ALERT: They will not feel safer with more cops in schools). Hopefully, the masses who came out to march will support these students as well.

Let the kids lead.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
The March for Our Lives took place on Saturday, March 24th. There were over 700 planned rallies across the country, including in Hartford, CT. Several thousand people gathered near the Capitol building to protest for sensible gun reform.
The rallies were inspired by the students from Parkland High School who survived a mass shooting. It was supported by numerous organizations, including Moms Demand Action and Sandy Hook Promise, non-profits started in the wake of the tragedy in Newtown. The event was hosted by the nephew of Dawn Hochsprung, the principal of Sandy Hook Elementary who gave her life to protect her students. Her daughter spoke as well, joined by several other people affected by gun violence and politicians in favor of gun reform.
It was a powerful event. But what did it accomplish? That's always the criticism of protesting and marching. What does the act of making a sign or marching down a street directly accomplish?
It's true that the most creative sign in the world is not going to stop a mass shooting from occurring. But the question is based on a false premise. No change occurs overnight, especially political and cultural change, both of which are needed to address the issue of gun violence. Rallies are a means to achieving a goal, not the goal itself.
However, the best rallies do accomplish practical goals. In Hartford alone, there were dozens of volunteers registering people to vote. Just for that reason the rallies were successful.
But practicality isn't the only reason for a rally. One of the purposes of a protest or rally is to spark the conversation and raise awareness. Naysayers will claim everyone is aware of the issue, or that we've already had the conversation. However, not everyone believes in the urgency of the movement, and seeing millions of people across the country marching might inspire them. Also, we've never really had this conversation, except in our Facebook feeds. As a country, we've managed to avoid this conversation almost entirely, that's why it's gotten to this point. That's why Black Lives Matter became so big and important, because we ignored the issue of race and police brutality for so long. We keep ignoring the gun debate. After every tragedy involving guns, we're told it's not the right time to discuss politics (when it's an act of violence by a Muslim on the other hand, certain people are ready to ban all Muslims from the country before the bodies are cold). Now, the students of Parkland, and the countless other students and parents and regular people across the country, are saying we are sick of the violence and we are going to have this conversation until real reforms are made.
These rallies inspire people to act, but they also serve as a warning to legislators. One of the themes of the day was that legislators will be voted out if they don't listen to the people's demands. That is democracy in action. That's how government should work.
But the greatest, most important purpose of a rally, is to provide a feeling of community, to simply show people that there are like-minded individuals looking to make change. So often, we read the news and we see horrible things happening and as individuals, we feel hopeless. There's simply nothing to be done, the world sucks, let's abandon all hope. It's overwhelming. It feels like maybe you're the only one who really cares about the issue and you don't understand why nothing is being done but then you don't know what you can do and then you feel like part of the problem. It's a cycle of loneliness. It creates despair. It creates numbness. So, horrible things happen, we get upset for a bit, then we shrug our shoulders. It's what happened after Sandy Hook.
A rally can bring back that all important sense of hope. If not hope, at least a sense that people care. It shows you're not alone in your misery. Sometimes that's enough. Maybe we can't change anything, but we don't have to like it dammit! We may lose. We may not get what we want. But we're not simply going to accept it.
Crowds give off energy (like houses!). At a sports arena, you feel it most in tense moments or after winning scores. At a friend's party, the vibe is happy and people are enjoying themselves. At a funeral, the opposite. The setting, the group, the reason for being there all add to the vibe. At a rally like March for Our Lives, everyone is there with a purpose. For some, the purpose is simply to hang out with friends and share pictures of #TheMovement on social media. That happens with any movement, and it's fine! Fun should be had at these events! We need to keep our sense of humor. Yet even the people just there for the fun of it truly want a more peaceful existence. We all want to be safe and to keep children safe. From my experience on Saturday, and at other marches I've attended, most people are there with a clear vision for what they want. For a clear idea of what the Parkland students want, as well as what most people at the March want, click here.
The energy at the March was incredible; it was hopeful for change, it was sad for the loss and the death that has occurred, it was nervous because we all realize the challenges ahead, it was fun because people are showing off their creativity and spreading positivity; it was synergistic because we were all participating in something bigger than ourselves.
It was hilarious at times because some people think they are making deep statements when...yeah.
But still, I'm with you man.
But still, I'm with you man.
It's very easy to say protesting or marching or doing anything isn't really going to have an effect. I've heard, and probably said, something close to the following many times: "Nothing's gonna change anyway, what's the point" And things may not change. That's a definite possibility. In fact, looking at the history of the United States, in the best case scenario, it will probably have a small, incremental effect that lasts for a few years. If that's the best we can get, why even bother?
Because it can always get worse. Because incremental change can and does save lives. Because fuck them, that's why.
Fuck the NRA for steadily attacking the Parkland survivors and for opposing any change whatsoever that might save lives. Oh, and for taking money from foreign countries to influence US elections. I guess it's "International" Rifle Association now?
Fuck the mainstream (not fringe--mainstream) Republican politicians and media sites that have been spreading lies about the teens because they know they are losing the argument and can not win an honest debate.
These kids have lived their whole lives with mass shootings as a reality. The Parkland kids specifically are actual survivors of a mass shooting. The same survivors who politicians and gun rights groups are quick to send thoughts and prayers to after the shooting. I guess they don't want survivors talking, just shutting up and taking the prayers. Unless those survivors agree with their politics, of course. They found the one Conservative student at Parkland who opposes gun reform and he's a conservative hero. And he has every right to voice his opinion! Just like the kids who want gun reform. It's simply a double standard: if you agree with us, we'll give you a key to the empire! If you disagree, we will try to ruin your life. That is not an exaggeration.
They do it with athletes, too. Lebron wants gun reform or less police brutality? "Shut up and dribble!" Shaq wants more cops in schools instead of gun reform? "We love you Shaq!"
Teens have every right to speak up and speak out, and people have every right to disagree with them. I don't agree with everything the Parkland students have said. At the Hartford rally, a young woman praised Nancy Pelosi and my eyes rolled so far back in my head I saw my own ass crack. But what we are seeing now is beyond disagreements. There are literal attacks. Before, the attacks and the conspiracies came from fringe groups like InfoWars, who started the Sandy Hook lies. Parents of murdered Sandy Hook children were called actors and are still getting harassed today. Now, InfoWars' biggest fan is the President of the United States. The fringe has become mainstream and are now in power. If you're conservative and you think these people don't speak for you, then speak up, because I hate to tell you, but this is your party now.
John McCain's daughter, Meghan McCain, a "sensible conservative" criticized the students' tough language. Are you fucking serious, Meg? Gun rights activists have been calling for literal war for decades. Charlton Heston said you can take his guns from his cold dead hands. Now you're mad at the rhetoric? The hypocrisy has summited Mt. Everest.
I hope the marches and rallies continue. I hope teens and children keep making their voices heard. I hope adults listen and act.
I also hope that people start applying a similar energy to other worthwhile causes, especially causes that are closely interconnected with gun reform. The strongest criticism about the Parkland students is not about the students themselves but of the media coverage. There is a noticeable difference in the media coverage of protestors after Parkland compared to protestors in Baton Rouge after police killed Alton Sterling (and yes, of course the cops avoided all charges).
People have to understand that these issues are part of the same problem. We have to address the way racism plays a part in our discussion of gun laws. The 2nd Amendment was literally created to protect white people from "scary" black hordes. So were police, as a matter of fact.
Gun reform and police demilitarization must go hand in hand. To their credit, the most visible Parkland kids have acknowledged their privilege and shed light on other students and movements around the country. Recently, black Parkland students held a rally to discuss their views on proposed solutions to school shootings, such as more cops in schools (SPOILER ALERT: They will not feel safer with more cops in schools). Hopefully, the masses who came out to march will support these students as well.
Let the kids lead.
But also remember these are just kids, and that we, as adults, also need to step up.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
Wednesday, March 14, 2018
The Overwhelming Influence of Home
My creative writing teacher at UConn wrote a story (and screenplay) called The Secret Life of Houses. I don't remember much of it, except that Jackie from Roseanne starred in the movie, and a main concept of the story is that houses have unique spirits. Not floating, drinking spirits like in the classic 80s Gutenberg comedy High Spirits, or conniving, womanizing, trickster spirits like Beetlejuice. Just a certain energy and vibe that is imprinted on the house by its tenants, its pets, its visitors, its neighbors, and anything else that made contact with it.
The energy of each individual home has an impact on the people living there as much as they have on it. Some of the influence boils down to nostalgia. Houses are a living memory. Looking at a picture can bring back specific memories, but being inside a house you grew up in, whether it's a friend's childhood home or your own, is like floating inside a cloud made of memories. The memories can be so overwhelming that it's hard to focus on just one. When I go to my parent's beach house, memories flood back from great vacations as a kid with friends and family and birthday gifts and dogs and beaches. Entire days and years come rushing back as familiar scents and sounds and sights fill my senses. Sometimes specific memories pop up, but mostly it's just an overall sense of peace and happiness.
Every place I have lived had a different energy and made an important impact on me. I still have dreams that take place in the first house I grew up in Hartford. I see the layout clearly. It is literally providing the framework for some dreams. It has subconsciously become part of my identity.
That phenomena occurs not only with our childhood homes, but with the state, town, and neighborhood we grow up in. Americans like to think that we, as individuals, are completely in control of who we are and how we perceive the world. The reality is that where we grew up and where we live has an immense effect on who we are and our perceptions of reality itself.
In addition to providing a literal and figurative structure for our lives and memories, our homes are extensions of who we are. The pictures we put up, the color we use to paint the walls, the choice between hard wood floors and shag carpeting. They all reflect something about us (especially the shag carpeting) and our homes retain that reflection long after we leave.
Growing up, my mom had a small pillow with a phrase stitched on it: A house is not a home without a cat. I always thought this was propaganda from the Cat lobby, but as I got older I recognized the truth in the statement, and it applies to more than just cats. A house is just a building. A home is a safe place full of love. Pets help give a house its character, its spirit. Pets need love and attention, so when there is a pet in a house, that means there is love and affection in that house, which creates a home.
Pets help create that "lived-in" feeling, a term that has a positive connotation even though it literally means there are signs of wear in a house. Beyond the literal meaning, the term refers to a place that feels like people have made into a home. It feels comfortable because there's a familiar energy to it. People even want that lived-in feeling in a new home, which, logically, doesn't even make sense.
A major part of the impact a place has on us is the people we interact with there. My parents still live in West Hartford, the second house I lived in, so it still feels like home when I go there, even though they completely renovated my bedroom. When I moved out of my parents house, I lived in a condo in Newington for 7 years, with 3 of my best friends (at separate times). It was small, but it was comfortable, and it ended up being the foundation of countless incredible memories. My friends and roommates are largely responsible for those memories, and those memories and those relationships will stay with me forever. When you occupy the same space with someone for an extended period of time, an unspoken bond forms. Movies portray that connection with the military and sports, where soldiers and teammates start to respect and trust each other after being in close quarters. But sports and war aren't necessary to create that bond. Simply living together, enjoying each other's company, learning each other's routines, creates a connection that lasts well beyond the time spent living together.
The same applies to the living space itself. The memories I have from the time I lived in that condo are intricately linked to the building and the location. I can't imagine them occurring anywhere else, because quite literally, they would have not occurred or they would have been drastically different. Think of your favorite vacations. We go to certain destinations because we want to experience certain things. The people you meet, the food you eat, the activities you experience all contribute to your memories, of course. But the foundation of all of that is the location. The same is true of your home.
We talk about "home field advantage" in sports; players usually do better at their own field, and there are many reasons for that, but a main reason is "environmental familiarity." We are more comfortable at home. When we played tag as a kid, "homebase" was the safe space. You could always go back there to avoid danger. That's true of home as well. Kids often rush home from school to avoid bullies or to simply get comfortable. When the bullies are at home--parents, siblings, or spouse--home becomes a place of dread, which reflects the immeasurable impact "home" has on our psyche, whether positive or negative. That's why children who move around a lot often have difficulties with relationships and an overall poorer quality of life as adults.
I only moved once as a kid and that was incredibly difficult. Thankfully I wasn't too far from where I grew up, so I could see friends and hang out in familiar places, but it took me a while to adapt. I liked my original home and everything that came with it. I only truly considered the house in West Hartford "home" when I went away to college. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they say. I absolutely loved college, and each place I lived at UConn has incredible importance to me (my memories of college are organized in sections according to where I lived) but sometimes, we simply yearn for the familiar. And home cooked meals.
Most recently, I lived in a house in New Britain affectionately referred to as Corbin Frat. There was no fraternity (I paid rent, not dues) but the house itself became a meeting place for and symbol of friendship. If you lived there or spent a significant amount of time there, you were initiated into the Corbin Frat for eternity. The President of Corbin Frat always steered the energy of the house. He set the tone. But the pets (RIP Bay and Deucey) the roommates, and the visitors all contributed to the spirit of Corbin Frat. The music we listened to, the food we ate...those scents and sounds are embedded into the fabric of the house. The living room floor isn't just a floor, it's the place where Bay would purposefully spill people's beer so he could lick it up. It's a place that birthed FRIENDSHIP, the greatest kickball team known to man. There is a sentimental value to everything within the house because our energy is infused into the building.
The energy of the previous tenants was there as well, making its presence most obviously felt through the stark patterns of the wallpaper. That wallpaper told a story. There was time and effort put into deciding the pattern and then sweat and hard work to put it all up. That energy remains.
One day when I was living there, a former owner knocked on the door. It was just like in the movies; he was nervous and embarrassed to just show up at a stranger's home, but once we started talking I could almost see the memories washing over him. He was happy just to be there, to feel the energy of the house. And I think he was satisfied with the energy we brought to it. I know that I will be forever influenced by my time there, and I'm truly grateful.
Now I'm living in a refurbished zipper factory in Berlin. If you listen close, you can hear whispers of "YKK" coming from the vents. It's actually a really cool building. Brick outer walls give an old-fashioned, sturdy feel to it. The ultra high, wood ceilings inside make it feel extra spacious.
Plus, I live with my best friend, the love of my life. It was her home first, so she chose the interior; it smells pretty, everything is soft, clean, and organized. It's like being on a white sand beach with no flies or annoying tourists or sunburn. It's pristine, but lived-in, and I feel right at home.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
The energy of each individual home has an impact on the people living there as much as they have on it. Some of the influence boils down to nostalgia. Houses are a living memory. Looking at a picture can bring back specific memories, but being inside a house you grew up in, whether it's a friend's childhood home or your own, is like floating inside a cloud made of memories. The memories can be so overwhelming that it's hard to focus on just one. When I go to my parent's beach house, memories flood back from great vacations as a kid with friends and family and birthday gifts and dogs and beaches. Entire days and years come rushing back as familiar scents and sounds and sights fill my senses. Sometimes specific memories pop up, but mostly it's just an overall sense of peace and happiness.
Every place I have lived had a different energy and made an important impact on me. I still have dreams that take place in the first house I grew up in Hartford. I see the layout clearly. It is literally providing the framework for some dreams. It has subconsciously become part of my identity.
That phenomena occurs not only with our childhood homes, but with the state, town, and neighborhood we grow up in. Americans like to think that we, as individuals, are completely in control of who we are and how we perceive the world. The reality is that where we grew up and where we live has an immense effect on who we are and our perceptions of reality itself.
In addition to providing a literal and figurative structure for our lives and memories, our homes are extensions of who we are. The pictures we put up, the color we use to paint the walls, the choice between hard wood floors and shag carpeting. They all reflect something about us (especially the shag carpeting) and our homes retain that reflection long after we leave.
Growing up, my mom had a small pillow with a phrase stitched on it: A house is not a home without a cat. I always thought this was propaganda from the Cat lobby, but as I got older I recognized the truth in the statement, and it applies to more than just cats. A house is just a building. A home is a safe place full of love. Pets help give a house its character, its spirit. Pets need love and attention, so when there is a pet in a house, that means there is love and affection in that house, which creates a home.
Pets help create that "lived-in" feeling, a term that has a positive connotation even though it literally means there are signs of wear in a house. Beyond the literal meaning, the term refers to a place that feels like people have made into a home. It feels comfortable because there's a familiar energy to it. People even want that lived-in feeling in a new home, which, logically, doesn't even make sense.
A major part of the impact a place has on us is the people we interact with there. My parents still live in West Hartford, the second house I lived in, so it still feels like home when I go there, even though they completely renovated my bedroom. When I moved out of my parents house, I lived in a condo in Newington for 7 years, with 3 of my best friends (at separate times). It was small, but it was comfortable, and it ended up being the foundation of countless incredible memories. My friends and roommates are largely responsible for those memories, and those memories and those relationships will stay with me forever. When you occupy the same space with someone for an extended period of time, an unspoken bond forms. Movies portray that connection with the military and sports, where soldiers and teammates start to respect and trust each other after being in close quarters. But sports and war aren't necessary to create that bond. Simply living together, enjoying each other's company, learning each other's routines, creates a connection that lasts well beyond the time spent living together.
The same applies to the living space itself. The memories I have from the time I lived in that condo are intricately linked to the building and the location. I can't imagine them occurring anywhere else, because quite literally, they would have not occurred or they would have been drastically different. Think of your favorite vacations. We go to certain destinations because we want to experience certain things. The people you meet, the food you eat, the activities you experience all contribute to your memories, of course. But the foundation of all of that is the location. The same is true of your home.
We talk about "home field advantage" in sports; players usually do better at their own field, and there are many reasons for that, but a main reason is "environmental familiarity." We are more comfortable at home. When we played tag as a kid, "homebase" was the safe space. You could always go back there to avoid danger. That's true of home as well. Kids often rush home from school to avoid bullies or to simply get comfortable. When the bullies are at home--parents, siblings, or spouse--home becomes a place of dread, which reflects the immeasurable impact "home" has on our psyche, whether positive or negative. That's why children who move around a lot often have difficulties with relationships and an overall poorer quality of life as adults.
I only moved once as a kid and that was incredibly difficult. Thankfully I wasn't too far from where I grew up, so I could see friends and hang out in familiar places, but it took me a while to adapt. I liked my original home and everything that came with it. I only truly considered the house in West Hartford "home" when I went away to college. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they say. I absolutely loved college, and each place I lived at UConn has incredible importance to me (my memories of college are organized in sections according to where I lived) but sometimes, we simply yearn for the familiar. And home cooked meals.
Most recently, I lived in a house in New Britain affectionately referred to as Corbin Frat. There was no fraternity (I paid rent, not dues) but the house itself became a meeting place for and symbol of friendship. If you lived there or spent a significant amount of time there, you were initiated into the Corbin Frat for eternity. The President of Corbin Frat always steered the energy of the house. He set the tone. But the pets (RIP Bay and Deucey) the roommates, and the visitors all contributed to the spirit of Corbin Frat. The music we listened to, the food we ate...those scents and sounds are embedded into the fabric of the house. The living room floor isn't just a floor, it's the place where Bay would purposefully spill people's beer so he could lick it up. It's a place that birthed FRIENDSHIP, the greatest kickball team known to man. There is a sentimental value to everything within the house because our energy is infused into the building.
The energy of the previous tenants was there as well, making its presence most obviously felt through the stark patterns of the wallpaper. That wallpaper told a story. There was time and effort put into deciding the pattern and then sweat and hard work to put it all up. That energy remains.
One day when I was living there, a former owner knocked on the door. It was just like in the movies; he was nervous and embarrassed to just show up at a stranger's home, but once we started talking I could almost see the memories washing over him. He was happy just to be there, to feel the energy of the house. And I think he was satisfied with the energy we brought to it. I know that I will be forever influenced by my time there, and I'm truly grateful.
Now I'm living in a refurbished zipper factory in Berlin. If you listen close, you can hear whispers of "YKK" coming from the vents. It's actually a really cool building. Brick outer walls give an old-fashioned, sturdy feel to it. The ultra high, wood ceilings inside make it feel extra spacious.
Plus, I live with my best friend, the love of my life. It was her home first, so she chose the interior; it smells pretty, everything is soft, clean, and organized. It's like being on a white sand beach with no flies or annoying tourists or sunburn. It's pristine, but lived-in, and I feel right at home.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
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