I have some athletic and lest say self-determined grandchildren. I had them attack a small playground like wolves on a wounded deer. Most of these shots were taken by Ariana and Aniyiah cousins and the two oldest. Both have a keen eye for photography, I usually allow them to most shots and I groom these child laborers. In Chicago next week for graduation, I believe Ariana. Not sure if Aniyah is also on tap. Again, the greatest pleasures in life are free and little formal education is required.
“What is taking place in Chicago is a window into a savage form of capitalism that transfers public wealth into private hands, believes that individuals have the right to profit from the loss of public goods and dissolves public considerations into private troubles.” Read full article here: In the Dead Zone of Capitalism by Henry A. Giroux
- Rahm Emanuel’s Plan to Turn Around Chicago (swampland.time.com)
- Marching In Chicago: Resisting Rahm Emanuel’s Neoliberal Savagery (infiniteunknown.net)
- Income Statistics in Chicago: Per Capita and Median Household Income (local.answers.com)
I had a wonderful time with high school students at Noble Street Charter school this spring. I did a teen enrichment and leadership program and had the time of my life. These were some of most engaging teens I have come across. We covered topics from every genre it seems, i.e., bullying, mental illness, verbal violence and more. The conversations were deep, funny, and silly all at once. I admire teens in today’s society possessing the abilities to talk about their issues.
One of the most significant discussions was bullying. I was a verbal bully growing up on the Southside of Chicago. Unlike a physical bully whose aggression to beat their victims to a pulp would only do. For me, my weapon of bullying was telling jokes. I told jokes that would fry the skin off unsuspecting targets in elementary, high school, and college. My quick cobra bite left many in a sea of pain I hoped for. Fellow students had to hate seeing me come down the hallway, afraid they could become the next victim. I look back and realize the harm I subjected on some classmates and neighborhood cohorts. I am a huge advocate against teen bullying.
Bullying in any form is not cool. In previous years, I have run into a few people I bullied in elementary and college, the looks they gave me was chilling. After nearly 20-30 years, their faces bellowed their internal pain against me from a bullhorn. I was speechless and yet sorry for them and me. What I did to these two individuals was spiritual and moral torture. It was clear, I was a former Nazi general these victims had run into on their vacation in Peru or a central island that hide war criminals. I was ashamed. I never want faces looking back at me with such a blank expression ever again. It hurts…that I offended others because of my fears and personal doubts. However, I am sorry for the pain and distressed I have subjected on others. But I learned a lesson, bullying never dies; victims can live with the pain for years.
I hope conversations on bullying continue to alert us of the dangers to the victims. This group helped me express my feelings on it. We explored a variety of issues but bullying stood out for me. My time comes to an end tomorrow at a place I learned more than I taught…goodbye for now. I had a ball…
I’m not sure if what to make of this portrait. My daughter (i.e., Ariel) created it. I figure the woman is from another place and time. She was in love but lost her way to beauty. Men became angry when she did not see upon them as a possible suitor. The eternal drum in her village holds her corpse. Her name was Wanda…
Men worship to be loved by a woman of darker skin. They would touch their lips on burning coal to please them…across the Pacific they travel miles just to smell her robe…or the flowers that draped her hut in a village long since gone. She was known to make men soil their pants with excitement. I wonder when they saw her what did they feel: Love? Saddened? Euphoria? How could one woman drain wealthy men without touching them? Who knows? Maybe its just a fantasy these lost souls were seeking, nevertheless, Jacob was different.
Jacob was a handsome mix of Latino, Native-American, and Jewish descent. He grew up in communities that never refuse their children. A freshman at Harvard when cohorts introduced the Pacific Goddess named Wanda. The story has it no man can see her and not fall into a quiet trance. She was this beautiful, as like a singular rose among many unwanted bushes, her complexion blinded men. Her body a mosaic of curves, breasts, and long hair which ran to her lower back. Jacob was enamored as a stone watching her move, he wanted the woman who wanted no man.
I am sure the story ends as usual, Jacob loses his way kills her and himself in a bit of rage. How tragic, beauty ruins as much as hate…but what happened you ask? Don’t know? I was only willing to read so much. As the story goes read the entire story and become like you know…Jacob. Never seen or heard from again. The village holds secrets especially Wanda’s private affairs.
Robert a. Williams