DIFFERENT HEIGHTS

Project: Shattered Silence is a group that I started last year with 17 teenagers from all over the Tampa Bay area. The group was designed to help show that the arts are not about being seen the arts are about making sure your message is heard. It was more successful than I could have ever imagined, with two sold out performances, and a possiblity to try and take the show to New York an Off-Broadway. It was exciting on many levels. Therefore, after last year, I was asked to do the project again. This time when I showed up on the first day I was presented with 40 teenagers that were all asking to be a part of this project. I never would have imagined that in one year it would have gained that much steam. However, when the time came to choose the topic and message for this year's show, the same thing started to happen....discussion.

This was the most powerful day of last year's project and this year proved no different. I was in there watching 40 teenagers discuss so vividly, clearly, and no so-clearly in a respectful manner religion, heroes, scolisosis, being gay, and so on. Did they all agree? Absolutely not! They were not all on the same page, and truth be told life is going to change the opinions of most of them. They were speaking from their perspective of the right now. Yet, they were stating their opinions and listening to the others who opposed them in a respectful manner. And they responded to what was being said, so therefore they were listening too. I remain impressed by their inability to not see eye-to-eye, and yet their ability to remain calm when that happens.

Then I thought, this world isn't meant for us to see eye-to-eye. Hell, we are all different heights. We all stand at different levels, even physically....sometimes I can't see eye-to-eye because that is the way my body stands. So if I can't expect to do it physically why would I expect our minds to be able to do it. I mean I don't choose my friends on if I can look at them directly in the eye, why would I choose them based on if our opinions see eye-to-eye. As a matter of my opinion, if we all saw eye-to-eye and agreed all the time how boring of a world this would become. I don't want everyone to agree, what I do want is for people to respectfully acknowledge opinions contrary to their own.

Arguments are an interesting thing, people always tend to get violently involved in them sometimes. We try to yell our point, and talk over each other (myself included at times) in order to get the message into people's heads. Does that ever work in the moment? No it doesn't work ever!

Here is what I believe, I believe that when our minds are changed during an argument it is never over the course of the argument that our point of view is changed. If our minds somehow go through an overhaul at some point, chances are good that it is always after the argument has been completed. That is the time to self-reflect on what was said in the moment. We have allowed ourselves the time to reflect on how we said things, how we acted, or reacted to certain things said.

What is going on with this world when I can get 40 teenagers to get together and calmly acknowledge their differences in opinions, and yet adults are yelling all over this country? How does that happen? How can I get kids who "aren't supposed to know adult things" talk about abortion, or gay rights, politics, or religion.......adults cant even do that and they "are supposed to know about adult things."

Every time I turn around someone is getting on to this younger generation for something they did or said, or didn't do or didn't say.....well here is what people in America are missing.....QUIT TALKING AND START LISTENING!!!! People want to talk. People in America want to talk and be heard by politicians, not be talked to them. Teenagers want to talk and be heard by adults, not listen to their lectures about what they should be doing. Workers want to talk and be heard by administration, and not just told what must be done first. When are people going to realize that we are more apt to be paid attention to when we are paying attention?

So here is my lesson, learn from the teenagers, they are ready to talk....I got news for you...they have started talking already....you listening? If not, be prepared to be left behind....they end up taking over.

WEATHERED GRAVESTONES

So about a week ago I was in Boston, Mass. This would be my first time ever visiting the city. So I had to do the tourist-y stuff. I needed to see Fenway (well, maybe next time.) I had to see the Cheers restaurant (and would you believe that everybody knew my name?) I wanted to walk the freedom trail (a bit ambitious, but we did walk a lot of it.) I wanted to see the Maparium (hello, I was inside of a three-story glass globe.) And I wanted to see the gravesite of Paul Revere. HOLY ONE IF BY LAND AND TWO IF BY SEA BATMAN! This got me.

His gravesite sits among a sea of tombstones, and you have to search pretty hard for it. You would think it would be a huge tombstone stating who this is and that he is buried in this spot. It is a tiny tombstone. In fact, you would have no idea that anyone of any importance was lying in this spot. Just a bevy of pebbles surrounding a smoothed over rock with two words carved on it…Paul Revere.

I will gladly take this moment to come clean with my unhealthy obsession with cemeteries. I have no idea why I like them (well I like them during the day time.) I just do. I think cemeteries are beautiful. Maybe because despite that we think they may be grim, it is a place where people go to honor ones that have died. I also like the juxtaposition of people who go there realizing that we have to honor life, but we do this by recognizing death. I also just loved the fact that people who have passed on can announce that they were here - that they had a place in this world.

However, this cemetery in Boston showed me something completely different. There were tombstones that were clearly marked in the 16 or 1700’s. I was astounded that I was looking at something from that time period. (Let’s face it you don’t get a lot of that in many parts of this country.) However, as I was going in and out of the headstone rows (and irritating a few people as to how someone can take that many pictures of a cemetery) I noticed something strange…the gravestones had been weathered (as things tend to do when being left outside for 300 years.) However, something struck me on this particular day.

You see the headstones only had small amounts of information on them. On the newer ones (and by newer I mean like 1800’s) you could make out the name and the year they died, and if you squinted you could also make out their quote they left to be remembered by. However, for most of the gravestones, you couldn’t make out a single thing. They had been beaten by rain, and snow, and sleet, and wind. Time had showed these gravestones who the boss was. Time had washed away any indication of what was there. All that remained was a round headstone marking that underneath this rock is…was a body.

This got me to thinking about life (as for me that is what gravesites tend to do.) Eventually we all pass on. Eventually Time will show all of us who is the master. We are forgotten. In time. Even something as powerful as a rock or stone gets weathered down to a smooth surface. All that remains is a rock that shows that someone did exist on this earth.

I don’t say this to be macabre or to be negative, because I don’t think of it as a negative. I think it is a very positive thing at which to look. Life is going by, we are getting older with every passing day. Time is already starting to show us that it is going to move on (maybe the only thing that moves on despite all human efforts.) Why waste that time? We may want to be remembered (we all do) but why spend all of that life just trying to be remembered. Why not just do it because we believe personally in what we are doing. Stand up for things. Fight for a better world. Fight for what you believe in. Who knows maybe some of these empty gravesites are soldiers who fought for what they believed in? I don’t know. Soldiers who did what they had to do for the good of what they believed in. They were interested in the present and fought for a future where their names wouldn’t be remembered. That is such a powerful thought to me. That someone would fight for a greater good and not just to be remembered.

Or maybe these gravestones are mothers or daughters who stood behind while their fathers and husbands went to war to make sure that life was as good as it could be for their children. Once again, fighting in the present for a future they didn’t know about and not to be remembered. I think what I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t matter if you are remembered, what matters is that while you have that time, before Time takes it from you, maybe you should go off and do everything that you believe in…whether that is fighting for a cause, or seeing Europe.

I don’t know if there is only one life or not. I like to think there is, but truth be told, only certain people can tell you for a fact if that is the case, and they ain’t talking.

I guess the lesson I am choosing to learn from weathered gravestones is that life is short, Time marches on and forgets everyone, so make the most of the seconds you have.

FEATHERS IN THE GRASS

So after wasting getting up at 5:15 and "wasting" an hour and a half on the internet i decided to spend no more time stressing over the oil spill for once, and take an hour at the gym to send my energies elsewhere for a minute. As I was walking to the gym I noticed something, there was this huge gorgeous feather just lying on the grass. It also had freshly fallen from a bird, you could tell by how clean it was and untouched.

This feather got me thinking about myself when I was a child and how if I ever saw a feather on the grass i would have picked it up in a heartbeat. It wouldn't have mattered if it was freshly removed or not. And then I would play with that feather, and keep it in my room as if it was the most precious object I have ever found. (It was my gold. It was my oil. It was my Dolce & Gabana cologne. Hello?)

This morning I walked over to pick it up, but then thought, "What is the point in picking up the feather? What would I even do with it?" And then I continued my walk to the gym. It was on the rest of the walk that I thought, "Why wouldn't I pick it up? If I was a child that feather most assuredly would not still be there even if I was heading to the zoo or an amusement park. Nothing would have stopped me from picking up that feather."

What happens to us as we get older that we start forgetting those amazing childhood moments? I am sure that if I sat and contemplated it I could come up with so many more amazing and interesting ways to keep and preserve that feather than a six-year-old could. However, I decided I didn't want to use my brain that way anymore. I believe, at this moment while I am typing this, what an awful decision that was to just leave that feather on the grass.

A feather is special. A feather to me symbolizes strength, wisdom, flight, heights, elegance, beauty, and perseverance. That is what a feather indicates if I sit and dream about it. However, I decided to disregard all of that beauty and pass up the feather. I don't know if a six-year-old would have thought of any of those things, and yet they would respect that feather more than this 30-ahem-something would. Maybe a six-year-old knows all along how beautiful and magical a feather can be. Maybe the six-year-old just doesn't have the words yet to express the intelligence they possess.

So I want to make a vow (and who cares that it took me all these words to say this), but I will never pass up another feather on the grass again. I am going to respect that what that is on the grass is not just a feather, but a bit of childhood brilliance. I don't think that childhood brilliance should be left sitting on the grass.

ALICE CARTER - CALL THEM BY NAME

So not to start this blog off on a depressing note, but last night someone who is very dear to me in my life passed away from cancer. Although I have not spoken to this woman in probably five years (and not for any reason) she has been a staple on my life. She has been in my life since I was a child growing up in Little Rock, Arkansas.

When I first heard about what happened (through a text from my mother) I immediately told my mom that I am moved to write a blog about it. However, I told my mother that I wouldn't mention her by name. I began to think about that that statement. I have to mention her by name.

THIS WOMAN WAS ALICE CARTER - AND SHE WAS REMARKABLE!!!

Why wouldn't I mention her by name? Alice Carter is a woman who is such an important part of my childhood memories. Alice Carter gave me my very first job ever (outside of my father). I remember rolling papers for the newspaper route that she had. I remember Alice Carter ordering pizzas and sodas, and my brother and I (along with all of her kids) staying up to roll papers, eat pizza, and play video games. I even remember the apartment she lived in before she moved out of the city into a fancy trailer outside the city limits. I remember going over to see her before moving to Florida, and I remember advancing from video games to a board game. (Although I don't remember which one.)

Alice Carter always wore a bandanna, I remember that. Alice Carter always was the nicest person and cared for people, but she was especially kind to my brother and I. I remember that as the names from people from my childhood come and go, I remember the name Alice Carter. I remember all of her kids, even though we are more facebook buddies than actual day-to-day friends (I know you are reading this Alicia and Michelle...thanks for reading.) I remember that Alice Carter and her kids and I always had a good time when we were together, even though no money was spent.

I figure this...I HAVE to mention her name. Most of you guys reading this don't even know who Alice Carter is, maybe you never will. But I know that I have memories attached with Alice Carter that will be lost forever if I don't mention them. I know that the name Alice Carter will be lost if I don't tell you her name and who she was. I know that the spirit of Alice Carter (her energy, her drive, her kindness, her generosity) will only live on if I explain how wonderful it was?

I think the time has come to mention people by name. The people that are in our memories that connect with great and good thoughts should be mentioned by their given name. That is how we identify them. That is what I think we all should do; if we want them to be lost, then don't even talk about them. However, if we want to tell others about the great nostalgia they bring up (or if we just want to keep them as a forefront in our minds) then we need to mention these special people by their name.

I won't hide Alice Carter as a blog. She is special to me and will now and always be special to me. My childhood cannot be replaced, and she was part of making mine a memorable one. Thank you Alice Carter; Love you and miss you.

FIREWORK SPECTACLE

The other night I was at the Grand Floridian Hotel (Resort, whatever) in Disneyworld (land, whatever) as Scott's best friend from Maine was in town, and after an aggressive conversation Scott and I agreed to make the trek back up to Orlando to see her and her family again on a Tuesday night, no less (sorry to my job if I appeared less then my best the next day.)

As we arrived we realized that we came just in time to see the nightly firework spectacle that occurs in front of Cinderella's castle. Of course it is a ways a way from the resort, but you can see it brilliantly in the night sky. There were ten kids of different ages standing right by the water of the resort watching these amazing fireworks from the distance. Here's the thing about those ten kids - five of them were under the age of ten, and the other five were over the age of twenty-five.

I don't think this sudden diminishing age gap was the "magic of Disney" or because we were at the "happiest place on earth." I believe the true magic was simply just the fireworks.

There is power in the simplistic magic of fireworks that makes the loudest kids stand in awe and helps adults forget that they are not children. Is it the noise? Is it the colors? Is it the grandeur? Who cares?

For that brief moment there were no distractions for anyone. There were no business prospects. No Wii Nintendo. No chores. No bad feelings. There was just ten kids (and five of them would never be classified as kids away from fireworks) staring with inspiring awe at the exploding colors.

We, as a society, tend to separate ourselves physically every day from the world. With every invention created to bring the world closer together we all get further apart. Every second we spend on the computer is a second we don't spend with our friends or our family. Every time we plop ourselves down to watch television we allow that generational gap to grow ever wider.

We are always trying to be new and fresh, and yet no matter what the old is always what astounds us. Everyone out there with an ipod ever foamed at the mouth when someone else has an ipod? Anyone with a computer ever had time stop when you saw your friends computer? Anyone with a television ever actually faint when you see someone else's television? And even if you walked in the room and you were in awe at the television, did everyone else in the room just stop too, or was it just one person? Chances are good that it was just you.

Fireworks, sunsets, hot air balloons, alligators in the wild, etc....these are the things that makes everyone stop and watch. These are the things that remind us that our age is not what is keeping us apart from one another. We are the biggest part at keeping us apart. A five year-old and an adult are both mouth watering when they look up and see a hot air balloon or a person parachuting from the sky. An 80 year-old and a 20 year-old can stop and stare at the beauty of sunsets. A five year-old and a fifteen year-old are all together astounded at the alligator that lies on the bank of the river. And there is not a single age in the world that doesn't see fireworks in the sky and stop and take in the beauty they bring to enhance the night sky.

So maybe instead of completely engrossing ourselves in these "wonders of technology" to bring the world closer together (and I won't totally put down technology as it does absolutely serve its purpose...I love my ipod more than anything) maybe we should see if we can "stop time" and just see how far back we can go to see what brought everyone in the world closer together. What in the world makes the old and the young all meet in the middle?

And to me that night in Orlando, it wasn't a mouse or a roller coaster or an amazing arcade room...it was the night being lit up with the firework spectacle.

THE TURTLE AND THE TOTEM POLE

So today I was pulling up to my apartment complex when I saw something I had to shake my head to realize that what I was seeing wasn't just a vision. I saw the maintenance man at the apartment complex kicking a turtle that was in a parking space that nobody was in (and nobody wanted it either.) This was not a man who was nudging a turtle to get on the grass either. This man was kicking the turtle. I parked my car and by the time I got out of it (my voice ready to yell at this human being) he had got in his golf cart and gone. I also though, man if I did say anything he may have just retaliated by killing the turtle. I then proceeded to pick up the turtle and put it by the lake in the middle of the complex (where it most likely came from). His shell had been completely scratched up and I don't know if it could walk. I am hoping when I walk by this afternoon that it will be gone swimming in the water.

I was so angry. It's not like this man was protecting his life....FROM A TURTLE!!!! This was not an animal that attacks people. It doesn't hurt people. If the maintenance man was a fish or a bug then maybe he would have a case. I was so disgusted, I saw nothing but the color red. I had to put myself in that turtle's shoes (and yes, I know that sounds odd), but remember a turtle isn't a leaf or a tree, this animal can feel pain. It feels a cut. And this is not a bird or a dog, when it is being attacked or hurt can fight back easily. This is not an animal that has a distinct sound that it can let out to get help from anyone hearing. This is a simple turtle.

I called the apartment complex and gave the description of the man. I even told them that it was a maintenance man and that he was in a golf cart (how many can they have 2?) I am not up for getting anyone fired, but I'll be damned if I am going to sit by and allow someone to attack a helpless animal in such a manner. They were outraged, and couldn't believe this happened, and she seemed so furious I am sure they are going to take care of it.

However, this brought something up in my head. I am not going to go into all the things that I think that are wrong in this world. (You wouldn't stay reading this for that long.) However, I think I know why nothing is happening for the better in this country. We, as the people who think they are at the bottom of the totem pole, aren't angry enough. We are angry enough to complain. We are angry enough to feel the emotion. But when it comes to speaking up and joining together and using our voice, we just aren't quite that angry.

This may be an odd analogy but speaking up for that turtle is like speaking up for anyone who is being unjustly beaten. (And we all know people like that weather it is physical or figuratively by society or governments or whatever.) How many times do we use the voice we have. It is so funny, cause a president and Congress and everyone who is in the power of a position can have use all that power that that position will allot them. However, one person comes by and says something vicious about them (whether true or not) then how much power do they have then? Sometimes those words go away, but a lot of the time those words linger.

We are not useless people who go to work every single day and come home every single night, and watch our shows before going to bed. We have the most powerful thing in the world, WE HAVE A VOICE!!!! And that voice only gets used if we allow that anger to shout it forth. No one uses their voice effectively when they are happy or sad. That voice is used to its fullest power when we are angry. Anger is a powerful emotion.

However, the only thing that combats anger is fear. Fear fights anger really well, why do you think that a lot of people go through that part of life where they want to go for more, but they don't? Their fear is outweighing their anger (or drive, which is a form of mild anger) to achieve what they are desiring.

So here is what I think. If you are someone out there who has a brain and feels that there are things that are going wrong in this world. And since I know everyone on this entire planet knows or feels when something isn't right, then the time has come to stop waiting for other people to solve the problem for us and get out there and join our voices together to go out there and stop what is being done to human beings here and all over the world.

Listen, are we at the bottom of the totem pole in this society? ABSOLUTELY!!!! No doubt about that, but I would rather be at the bottom than at the top. For if you are at the top and you aren't keeping the people from getting angry, than that bottom part of the pole will rebel against you and walk out from underneath you. Let's face it when that happens than the rest of the pole will collapse to the floor. Now if the top disappears than what happens to the rest of the pole?

Let's face it, the bottom of the totem pole has way more power than the top? So why not use it to our advantage?

THE COUNTRY IS KILLING US WITH SLOW JAZZ

So this morning I spent a good majority of my time on the telephone. At first I called UPS who sent me to the Best Buy who sent me to their Best Buy main office. The why to all of this is completely unimportant. In my wild goose chase for my missing computer part I found that two things were the same no matter where I called: 1) I inevitably was going to be getting a fake computer woman (though i don't want to put her down, she was very nice; though not responsive), 2) The companies are getting smart, and if you want to speak to a real person you can no longer just push 0, and 3) During the waiting time they play nothing but slow jazz. Then they wonder why I am so mad when they finally get to me.

I think this country's big businesses are trying to kill us all with slow jazz. They make us wait forever on the phone for every small reason (and I'm still not convinced the employees aren't playing on facebook while they are "going to get a manager"). They make us wait while the nice computer woman (nice cause she never yells back at me when i yell at her) goes through the list of numbers that we have to push (none of which ever seem to match what I am looking for.) They make us wait while they send us to the right department, as we were sent to the wrong department in the first place. Waiting....waiting....waiting...

I'm sick and tired of waiting!!!

So I begin to wonder, how much of our life is spent waiting? Don't expect any wonderful calculations, I didn't do any. But I don't think I have to. I think if you are reading this you know how much of our time is spent waiting for things on the phone. And please raise your hand if you think that this waiting process that they put us through makes us just more angry. I know it's a blog, I can't see you, but something is telling me that I don't need to. You can put your hand down now.

So much time is spent waiting on these frivolous nothing things. (And most of the time we end up hanging up anyway.) And I think life and time is passing us by, when we have so many other things to accomplish. But here lies the Catch-22, we are becoming such an immediate society that we refuse to wait. We are willing to wait (though getting angry) on the phone to complain about the part we didn't get from Best Buy, but when it comes to life lessons or life goals we have lost the power to wait.

I was told the other day that I "want everything so immediately." And I was taken aback (as I usually tend to be when someone wants to take on me, which I love). I realized that that person was right. I have all of these goals and I don't want to wait anymore, so I do what i do with the phone, I hang up. I think most of us are like that, and I definitely think the youth of this country are turning into that. It hurts me.

The world around us is becoming so immediate, yet when it comes to fixing the problems (even something as simple as a part you ordered for your computer) the world is still far behind. When it comes to complaining about something or finding out something that happened to us we want to speak to a real human being (and trust me the UPS guy got some words he shouldn't have had to endure.....including my brilliant line "YOU ARE RIGHT, YOU ARE NOT FED EX AND THAT DOES SUCK.")

It is time to focus on ourselves in a humble way. We have got to realize that WAITING IS IMPORTANT, but it isn't worth waiting for when there is "slow jazz" playing. Waiting is only important when we are going for the gold; when we are trying to achieve our goals the old fashioned way, through hard work and pain. Besides when we do that kind of waiting, it tends to be more swing music then old jazz.

So let's all make a pact (even though we are 14 people reading this blog strong) and when we are waiting and slow jazz is playing, let's hang up. However, when there is pain and excitement and fear and swing music we hear, that means it is all going to be worth the wait.