…stroke….stroke….stroke…BREATHE….

Today was the final day of EKL regional swim.  I was one of six swimmers from my school that made it; I swam a 50 butterfly in the 200 relay, in place of Maddy.  In the end, our small school’s team was obliterated; our relays all ended about 25 meters behind the first team.  Only a handful of [my school's] girls made state.  But, every single girl achieved her best time and cheered on her teammates.  It was a fun atmosphere and a memorable weekend.  Here in a little bit I’m going to run out to Target and buy cards to write in notes for the girls; a little encouragement goes a hell of a long way.

I also need to get something for C’s and my anniversary (15th May)…I am really clueless.  I am making him something – I can’t write it down, because I know he reads this  - but I would also like something special…hmm.  I found him a nice iron cross necklace for Christmas that he almost never removes…hmm.  Something for my mother and grandmother, and something for my best friend Aileen’s birthday.  Also need to clean my room, finish History notebook, Koesterer’s posters, prepare for the first aid final, call RPAC about my application, call Jared about picking up more hours, take my grandmother to an Elders’ concert….ahh!  Why am I on here?!

An important part of swim is learning when to breathe.  An all-out, no-breather sprint is possible – but not practical for real distances.  Regardless, the time for breathing isn’t here yet; time to pick up my pace.

…stroke….stroke….stroke….stroke….

M

Growing up, my first concept of prayer was feeling sympathy – and later, empathy – for a person suffering.  I remember watching kids on the playground and praying for them.  When one fell and started crying, I asked God to give me some of her pain so she felt better.  When another was having trouble keeping up in kickball, I asked God to give him some of my strength.  These little prayers may not have been efficacious, but I still find them the most sincere form of prayer.

Shooting A Prayer is often related to ‘shooting an arrow to God’, asking him to help someone else.  These prayers are random and usually directed at strangers.  When you see an ambulance pass, and you whisper under your breath that you hope the passenger survives, that is shooting a prayer.  Once put into place in your life, it becomes an unconscious habit.

‘Shooting prayers’ can lead to ‘shooting prayer in action’.  God acts through us, His people, as His own body.  While we should ‘shoot prayers’ for others, we should also leap at the opportunity to do what we can for them.  If you see someone having a rotten day, offer to listen.  If someone spills their books in the hallway, stop and help them, even if it makes you late to class. 

We were taught at a young age that its the little things – the quick actions and prayers – that really make a difference in life.  So, make it a habit to shoot a prayer for someone in distress, to help another requiring assistance (or a friend).  You’d be surprised the effect you can have on others; an infectious optimism that spreads like dawn.

M

During my United States’ History class, a film was shown demonstrating the gruesome, macabre even, side of the Civil Rights Movement.  A story that stuck in my mind was that of three students – two white, one black - whose car was purposely trapped between two KKK cars.  The students were then butchered and supposedly dumped into a nearby lake.  When the police searched said lake, they didn’t find the students, but they found several more bodies (eventually the boys were uncovered in a shallow grave).  The KKK members were tried for crimes against civil rights, but not for murder.  Such injustices were common practice even one hundred years after the emancipation of black slaves…this fact is enough to make any American’s blood boil.

My professor then went on to explain how discrimination still exists today.  Again, a true fact.  It was when she began lecturing on a continued ‘white attack’ on people of color that I felt the need to interject.

Pro. : And so these hate crimes continue to take the lives of African Americans….Yes, May?

M : Agreed, racial hate crimes are still an issue to American society.  An upwards of ninety percent of these attacks are committed between blacks and whites.

Pro. : As I said, the assailment by whites-

M. : No, ninety percent of those hate crimes are committed by black Americans, not white Americans.

Pro. : ………………that sounds like an accurate statistic…

M. : It is.

The Professor had nothing left to say, and the bell quickly rang.  Several students were discussing the figure I proposed – one that I had discovered while researching gun control.

Another interesting fact: “Compared with whites, blacks are nine times as likely to be arrested on robbery or murder charges, and about four times as likely to be arrested on assault, rape, or car-theft charges”

Does the statistic of ’90% of racial hate crimes are committed by African Americans’ – not White Americans - change your perception of racism in America today?  Do you justify these attacks?  Was I wrong in my interruption/correction of the professor?

M

Wheels flow over hot asphalt; decaying to reveal century-old bricks.  Streetlights, hovering precariously over intersections with strident bluebirds fastened to the cords, waver in the hint of an evening breeze.  On the edge of the skyline the exhausted remains of a factory exhumes chalky smoke into the sky, like measured breaths from frozen lungs.  The sky itself is a surreal backdrop to Kansas’ sable-brown terrain; the hazy orange sun sends sweeping plum ribbons heavenward, igniting clouds crimson with coral underbellies and shedding lavender shadows across the plains.  The bluebirds are raised to the evening air by hidden strings, and disappear into the factory’s ashen exhaust.  The smoke lingers over the centuries-worn town like the edge of a canvas that its artist neglected. 

Will I miss you when I leave; your canvas unfinished but not discarded?

M

Spent another day helping out at Elmwood Cemetery with my History Club.  It’s hard work but its a lot of fun.

C accompanied me to my twin nieces’ birthday party.

My family celebrated Easter

C and I humiliated ourselves trying to bowl after Prom.  But I DID learn how to edit his scores, ‘cheating’ he called it

Several hours a week swimming

Didn’t mess around and paid attention during my Chem lectures

Last but not least, spent time with my best friend A., and her horse, Rock

M

In my Geography class, we were discussing out projects.  Mine was on Russia – motherland! – and my friend’s (J) was over The Netherlands.  He is living proof that breeding should be a privilege, not a right.

Mrs (Professor) L : Amsterdam?  Wasn’t Anne Frank’s house there?

B : Who’s Anne Frank?

J : I guess she lived in Amsterdam?  But she died.

S : Woah wait – Anne Frank’s dead?!

B : Oh wait, I know who you’re talking about!  Wasn’t she that blind chick?

J : No that was Helga Kelly or something.

(I only wish I made this up, but these are my actual classmates)

M

A lion was very much in love with a woodsman’s daughter.  The fair maid referred him to her father and the lion applied for the girl.  The father replied:  “Your teeth are too long.”  So the lion went to a dentist and had them extracted.  Returning, he asked for his bride.  “No,” said the woodsman, “your claws are too long.”  Going back to the dentist he had them drawn.  Then he returned to claim his bride, and the woodsman, seeing that he was unarmed, beat out his brains.

May it not be so with me, if I give up all that is asked?

- President Abraham Lincoln

To give up one’s constitutionally given right to the ownership of weapons would not only fail to lower crime, but would in fact encourage violence against the people, both by the people and their government.

Weapons – handguns, rifles, semi- and fully-automatic guns – provide our most primitive, but also our most effective, defense.  95% of all 911 calls are responded to and dealt with by police after the crime has occurred.  The police alone cannot be relied upon for prevention of crime.  In 1855, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that local police had no duty to protect any particular person (South vs Maryland, 59 U.S. [How.] 396, 15 L.Ed., 433 [856]).

Are you willing to give up your personal defense (of personal weapons, ie. individually owned pistols and rifles) and rely solely on being that 5% whom the police force are able to protect?

M

EDIT:  The date on the Supreme Court ruling has been corrected

EDIT 2:  Please REC if you agree!

I wasn’t yet born when my mom first sang to me.  You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…  By the time I was two, I would sing (my version) of the song along with my parents.  When my dad was deployed to Germany, Korea, and the Middle East, he would call me on the phone nightly just to sing to me.  Growing up in Washington DC, with my dad gone and my mom working, I was in childcare most of the time.  I was confused because none of the teachers knew the song, so consequently, I would sing to myself.

To this day my parents – especially my dad – continue to refer to me as sunshine.  Independently, sunshine was one of the first nicknames that C ever used for me.

I know it sounds silly, but just hearing the name makes me feel happy.  It reminds me of the security and love I felt when I was little, by those parents who always tried their hardest.

M

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head and I cried.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You’ll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away

I’ll always love you and make you happy,
If you will only say the same.
But if you leave me and love another,
You’ll regret it all some day:

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You’ll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away

You told me once, dear, you really loved me
And no one else could come between.
But not you’ve left me and love another;
You have shattered all of my dreams:

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You’ll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away

In all my dreams, dear, you seem to leave me
When I awake my poor heart pains.
So when you come back and make me happy
I’ll forgive you dear, I’ll take all the blame.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You’ll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away

Sometimes you feel depression folding in around you like wet cardboard.  Life no longer offers stability or shelter.

Having to pull into an apartment complex on the way home because I was shaking too badly to drive.

Screams no one could hear.

I’m trying to focus on things that make me happy…anything to give purpose right now.

1) Cory

2) My family

No…no…I’m going to be okay.

M

My friend recently had a pregnancy scare.  I looked at her and quietly asked

If you are pregnant, what are you going to do?

This question has been ruminating in my mind for quite some time now.  What if it happened to me?  I talked to C briefly – he gets quickly uncomfortable on the subject – and he said he would want to keep the child.  I would be afraid that, if I didn’t give it up for adoption, my whole future would be altered, and not in the way in which I would prefer.  At the same time, could I really hand over my child to someone else?  Abortion seems like such an easy out, but I know I would never go through with it…

So, to rephrase my question…

If you became pregnant, what would you do?

M