*Acronym Still Funny
“No man is an island.” Though I have heard that phrase dozens of times throughout my life, there have been times during which I sought to prove that phrase incorrect. However, each attempt to disprove the phrase led to rather humbling experiences. Put simply, we (or at least I) need the company of like-minded individuals. It is important to become part of a community, to become part of something where the whole is so much greater than the sum of its parts. It is also important to note that in this age of advanced technology, not all communities exist on a physical plane. Some communities are not like church buildings or schools that you can get into your car and physically visit. Some of these communities exist virtually. Stickam was one of those communities for me. The ACSB was another. Today I’d like to talk about a little place known as Paper Mario Social, or PMS to its inhabitants.
Before the days of MySpace or Facebook (or even Xanga), message boards were the hub of internet communities and communications. As a typical adolescent with some socially awkward tendencies, it should come as no surprise to discover that I was a pretty avid video gamer (though considerably less hardcore of a gamer than most of my friends). I stumbled on a little site known as GameFAQs. I shopped around communities for a while before finally settling at the ACSB in early 2004. I hit it off immediately with a number of the board members and formed friendships that still carry on to this day. However, even in online communities, infighting and drama permeate areas that are populated with adolescents. At some point during the summer of 2004 I felt like I needed a break from the ACSB to see what else the sight had to offer. A couple of my friends kept alluding to a “Safe Haven”, and eventually one of them invited me to this place. It was Paper Mario Social.
No sooner had I checked the board out than I realized that it was a very different place than the ACSB. Everyone seemed to know each other for years (which they did), and there was a deeper sense of understanding of one another than one would expect to find in an internet community. There were still some of the fun and silly game topics like at the ACSB, but there were topic after topic about real life and intellectual and philosophical matters. It was different, but I liked it.
Even behind the safety of a screen and keyboard, it isn’t always easy to be the new guy. Heck, after a decade I still feel like the new guy at times. I’ll be honest and share something that I’ve never shared before. I was intimidated by the group. While I would never go so far to say that I expect to be the smartest guy in any room I enter, I know that I can more than hold my own. It was an intimidating to enter into a place in which everyone was my intellectual peer or superior (or at least, I interpreted everyone in that way). I’m even used to being the tallest person wherever I go. At 6’5, there are no fewer than 3 people on the board who are taller than me! I didn’t know how well I would fit in. In the beginning, I didn’t make much of an effort to fit in. It was just another place to go, a place that I could visit and connect with friendly acquaintances every now and then.
An interesting thing happened over time. The ACSB began to fall apart. Though we all established our friendships and relationships, none of us ever really gave any focus to the long-term sustainability of our little community. Those of us who wanted to keep in touch with one another did so outside the confines of the community, and those who did not fell by the wayside. By fall 2007, I needed some sort of community in my life. I needed a constant in my daily routine. Things were changing around me, and I knew that I could either adapt to those changes or perish. I made a better effort to become a part of things.
The more I got to know everyone, the less intimidated I became. While the guys are every bit as smart as advertised (and have some hobbies that would bore me to tears), they were good people. I had some of my greatest laughs in early 2008 when we went through the whole Monty and Mark ordeal. As we have all grown, we have become less “HeyDude” , “BUM”, “Kylo Force”, or “Power of 3” and more Alex, Mark, Jon, and Jakob.
The friendships that I have made within this community have been extremely valuable. I’ve already talked at great length about Gary (one of my mentors and heroes) and Zach in my previous series. I wouldn’t have made it to 2014 without them. It’s time to brag on some of the other people. I can honestly say that within our little community, there is no one whom I dislike. There is such diversity in the community, and each member contributes his own unique talents and perspectives. We have teachers, writers, thinkers, dancers, sports fans, and all around good dudes. Whether the topic is made by Brandon, Fred, James, Mark, or Will, I know I’m going to learn or think about something in a way I had never thought before. I have laughed, empathized, debated, and learned (most notably that EVERYONE wants an epic boyfriend). We have shared hopes and dreams, successes and failures, and grown from goofy kids to less goofy adults.
I had the privilege of meeting Jon and Zach for dinner in Seattle two years ago. Too often you hear horror stories of meeting people whose real world personas failed to match their online counterparts. That wasn’t for us. It was probably the best 90 minutes of conversation I had in all of 2012. It’s great to know that our community is not simply filled with good posters; it’s filled with good people, too.
I’ve been at the board for 10 years now. Over that time I have undergone many changes. I started out as the awkward high school kid. Since then I have been the neurotic wreck of a college student, the fun-loving yet unmotivated graduate, the determined professional, and the current me which I like to think is an amalgamation of the positive aspects of my two previous incarnations. A lot has changed over time (especially in my facial hair). I’ve gained and lost a number of things, but PMS was always a constant. We’ve lost some members over the years. Some really good people moved on with their lives. Our community isn’t the bustling metropolis of the internet that it once was. To those of you who have been around longer than me, that might be a bit disheartening. Yet the way I see it, we still have something that very few in the world can claim: a rich and meaningful community.
I don’t know where the community is going, but I will say that I am grateful it has gotten me to this point. All the PMSing that I’ve done over the past decade has made me into the man I am today. Thank you for opening your doors to me way back when. A PMS life for the win.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Sunday, June 8, 2014
You are the Story I Tell: The Epilogue
While I knew that I wanted my last post in the series to be about Kim, I realized that a highly intense and emotional post probably wasn’t the best way to wrap up the series. So for the benefit of both you and me, I’ve decided to make a nice little wrap-up post to share some things that I learned and let out any feelings that weren’t let out earlier.
There are a couple matters that need to be cleared up, questions that were asked multiple times over the course of the series. First, I am not ill or dying, nor do I have any plans for my life to end in the near future. However, after the multiple deaths that occurred over the past year or so, I didn’t want to wait any longer to do this series. It was a series that had been on my mind for a while before that, and I knew it was the right time to make it happen. Second, the title for the series, “You are the story I tell”, is NOT derived from that One Direction song. It was taken from the bridge of Day at the Fair’s “Everything I’ve Ever Wanted”, my favorite song on the planet. Now that we’ve cleared up those things, on to other matters.
This series was probably the best thing I have ever done in my life. It certainly was the best thing I have ever done on my blog. It felt really rewarding to let people know what they have meant to me over time. I’m not always the best at sharing these feelings right away, but I very rarely forget anything, and I certainly don’t forget the good that others do for me. Each of you have meant a lot to me and continue to mean a lot to me.
The best part of this series was that it allowed me to hear from most of you. Honestly, as I conceived and composed this series, I didn’t expect to receive any feedback from anyone. You can’t go into something like this expecting anything in return. It humbled and inspired me to hear from as many people as I did, and it meant a lot to find out that in some cases, I was able to positively impact your lives as well. I’ll be honest. Sometimes I myself wonder if who I am and what I do matters. Thank you for the positive reinforcement.
Writing these letters really forced me to be honest with myself. That’s not always an easy thing to do. We don’t always like to focus on the parts of ourselves that we do not like or the times in our lives during which we could have (and should have) been better. On more than a few occasions, I was humbled by certain memories and the knowledge that people treated me better than I deserved. I cannot thank you enough for that, and I thank you for how well you received what I had to say. I hope I have shown progress over the years.
The series taught me a lot about myself and about the people with whom I choose to associate. At each step of my life, I have been surrounded by great people who have challenged me and made me a better person. I have had a long list of quality mentors, from teachers to family members to church leaders to handymen and psychic bus drivers. I know that my insistence on doing things my way can be frustrating to others, both mentors and friends alike. But no one ever gave up on me. Even during the periods of my life where I was in a bit of a holding pattern and not moving forward, you stood by my side.
Thank you for taking the time to read this series. If there’s one thing I wanted everyone to get out of this, it’s that while I am one man, I tell the story of hundreds of individuals. I would not be who I am without each and every one of you. I have learned so much from you, and I hope to be able to inspire others the way you have inspired me. I don't know where the next chapter of my life will take me. No matter where it leads me, I will always carry on your stories inside me. I hope to do a better job at keeping in touch. Again, thank you for being who you are and doing what you do.
There are a couple matters that need to be cleared up, questions that were asked multiple times over the course of the series. First, I am not ill or dying, nor do I have any plans for my life to end in the near future. However, after the multiple deaths that occurred over the past year or so, I didn’t want to wait any longer to do this series. It was a series that had been on my mind for a while before that, and I knew it was the right time to make it happen. Second, the title for the series, “You are the story I tell”, is NOT derived from that One Direction song. It was taken from the bridge of Day at the Fair’s “Everything I’ve Ever Wanted”, my favorite song on the planet. Now that we’ve cleared up those things, on to other matters.
This series was probably the best thing I have ever done in my life. It certainly was the best thing I have ever done on my blog. It felt really rewarding to let people know what they have meant to me over time. I’m not always the best at sharing these feelings right away, but I very rarely forget anything, and I certainly don’t forget the good that others do for me. Each of you have meant a lot to me and continue to mean a lot to me.
The best part of this series was that it allowed me to hear from most of you. Honestly, as I conceived and composed this series, I didn’t expect to receive any feedback from anyone. You can’t go into something like this expecting anything in return. It humbled and inspired me to hear from as many people as I did, and it meant a lot to find out that in some cases, I was able to positively impact your lives as well. I’ll be honest. Sometimes I myself wonder if who I am and what I do matters. Thank you for the positive reinforcement.
Writing these letters really forced me to be honest with myself. That’s not always an easy thing to do. We don’t always like to focus on the parts of ourselves that we do not like or the times in our lives during which we could have (and should have) been better. On more than a few occasions, I was humbled by certain memories and the knowledge that people treated me better than I deserved. I cannot thank you enough for that, and I thank you for how well you received what I had to say. I hope I have shown progress over the years.
The series taught me a lot about myself and about the people with whom I choose to associate. At each step of my life, I have been surrounded by great people who have challenged me and made me a better person. I have had a long list of quality mentors, from teachers to family members to church leaders to handymen and psychic bus drivers. I know that my insistence on doing things my way can be frustrating to others, both mentors and friends alike. But no one ever gave up on me. Even during the periods of my life where I was in a bit of a holding pattern and not moving forward, you stood by my side.
Thank you for taking the time to read this series. If there’s one thing I wanted everyone to get out of this, it’s that while I am one man, I tell the story of hundreds of individuals. I would not be who I am without each and every one of you. I have learned so much from you, and I hope to be able to inspire others the way you have inspired me. I don't know where the next chapter of my life will take me. No matter where it leads me, I will always carry on your stories inside me. I hope to do a better job at keeping in touch. Again, thank you for being who you are and doing what you do.
Friday, June 6, 2014
Round 2 of Teaching: A Story of Survival and Persistence
I’ve always been of the belief that if you’re able to do something once, you can do it again. That said, I also believe that it is exponentially more difficult to do something a second time. A repeat performance has its own unique set of challenges. Having run two marathons, I know firsthand the challenges that come the second time around.
When you do something for the first time, you do not have a full and true understanding of the challenges that are going to arise. As a result, all you can do is encounter each challenge as it comes. There is a certain bravado and blissful ignorance when it comes to dealing with these challenges. You don’t know what you’re about to be hit with, but you don’t really care because you have a distinct end in mind.
There are two potentially dangerous traps to avoid when attempting a repeat performance. Since you know what it takes to succeed, there is the possibility of downplaying these challenges and becoming overconfident. On the other end, because you do know what is coming, you may live in fear of these challenges and not face them with the same confidence and tenacity with which you attacked them the first time.
I say all that to introduce this post. At the end of last school year, I wrote about my year and, quite honestly, felt like a conquering hero. I had a fantastic group of kids who wanted to succeed, and I did everything I could to facilitate their growth and future success. I was so ready and so excited for Round 2.
Unfortunately, there are things in life for which we do not plan and which we cannot change. I didn't even get out of the blocks before adversity struck. Two days before the school year began, I was informed that I was out of a job until enrollment improved. To say that hit me hard would be an understatement. The confidence that took a lifetime to build had been shaken to its very core. I didn’t know what to do. I was so afraid of falling back into some of the same bad habits that plagued me from 2009-2011. I knew that couldn’t happen.
Fortunately for me (or so I thought at the time), I was able to land on my feet as I was offered a social studies teaching position at an alternative high school. Because of my success the prior year, I believed that I would have no problems duplicating that success with a new group of students. Quite honestly, I had no idea what I was getting into. The school had a disturbing lack of academic vision and behavioral accountability for its students. It took me a week to realize that I was going to lose my mind if I stayed there any longer. It was a very difficult decision for me (as those of you who know me well know that I detest giving up on anything), but I took a leap of faith and walked away from the job.
Again, I knew that to go back to where I was would just be wrong (there’s some retro Relient K lyrics for you), so I needed to keep myself as productive as possible. I was still working out daily and working on my master’s degree, but I needed more. So I volunteered my afternoons at the school where I was laid off. I had very strong positive feelings towards the school from the last year, and I wanted to do everything I could to help them out. Plus, I thought that if I was there enough, I’d be the first person they would bring back once enrollment improved. I did the volunteering thing for over two months. It was enjoyable at the start, but it got frustrating as time went on. I was honestly about to call it a day and figure out something different when I was asked to return full time. My persistence had paid off!
To compare this class to my class from last year would be like comparing apples and oranges. In fact, the only things they had in common were that both classes were full of 6th and 7th grade students and that class was held in the same building. This group challenged me more than I was expecting. Though the classroom numbers were much smaller than they were last year, this group was a much needier and significantly more vocal group. Whereas my students last year truly got along with each other (save for once instance between two of my boys), my classroom was in constant conflict. It was a lot more difficult to get this group engaged in activities. I had to alter my strategies a lot to make things work.
Don’t get me wrong. I still liked this group of kids. Things were just different, and there were a number of challenges that arose that were beyond our control. The school went through three social workers over the course of the year before they finally wound up with a good one. We lost our gym teacher, and we classroom teachers were responsible for our kids’ P.E. periods, losing our breaks and gaining headaches in the process. It got even worse when basketball (the sport of choice for about 90% of the students in the school) was outlawed. My class had to move classrooms because the heating unit in our original classroom went out. We even had to spend two days in the library and conference room when our replacement classroom had problems! But as I told my kids, sometimes survival is the greatest victory. We may have limped to the finish line, but we crossed that line nonetheless.
I wouldn’t have made it through the year were it not for a number of wonderful coworkers. We pooled our lemons together to make the best lemonade we possibly could. It wasn’t easy, but we made it work. We always do.
I don’t know where my journey will take me next. I’m not sure whether or not this particular chapter of my life is ready to be closed. What I do know is that this year, though extremely exhausting, made me better, stronger, and wiser. I’ve got what it takes to go toe to toe with the next challenge, wherever and whatever that is.
When you do something for the first time, you do not have a full and true understanding of the challenges that are going to arise. As a result, all you can do is encounter each challenge as it comes. There is a certain bravado and blissful ignorance when it comes to dealing with these challenges. You don’t know what you’re about to be hit with, but you don’t really care because you have a distinct end in mind.
There are two potentially dangerous traps to avoid when attempting a repeat performance. Since you know what it takes to succeed, there is the possibility of downplaying these challenges and becoming overconfident. On the other end, because you do know what is coming, you may live in fear of these challenges and not face them with the same confidence and tenacity with which you attacked them the first time.
I say all that to introduce this post. At the end of last school year, I wrote about my year and, quite honestly, felt like a conquering hero. I had a fantastic group of kids who wanted to succeed, and I did everything I could to facilitate their growth and future success. I was so ready and so excited for Round 2.
Unfortunately, there are things in life for which we do not plan and which we cannot change. I didn't even get out of the blocks before adversity struck. Two days before the school year began, I was informed that I was out of a job until enrollment improved. To say that hit me hard would be an understatement. The confidence that took a lifetime to build had been shaken to its very core. I didn’t know what to do. I was so afraid of falling back into some of the same bad habits that plagued me from 2009-2011. I knew that couldn’t happen.
Fortunately for me (or so I thought at the time), I was able to land on my feet as I was offered a social studies teaching position at an alternative high school. Because of my success the prior year, I believed that I would have no problems duplicating that success with a new group of students. Quite honestly, I had no idea what I was getting into. The school had a disturbing lack of academic vision and behavioral accountability for its students. It took me a week to realize that I was going to lose my mind if I stayed there any longer. It was a very difficult decision for me (as those of you who know me well know that I detest giving up on anything), but I took a leap of faith and walked away from the job.
Again, I knew that to go back to where I was would just be wrong (there’s some retro Relient K lyrics for you), so I needed to keep myself as productive as possible. I was still working out daily and working on my master’s degree, but I needed more. So I volunteered my afternoons at the school where I was laid off. I had very strong positive feelings towards the school from the last year, and I wanted to do everything I could to help them out. Plus, I thought that if I was there enough, I’d be the first person they would bring back once enrollment improved. I did the volunteering thing for over two months. It was enjoyable at the start, but it got frustrating as time went on. I was honestly about to call it a day and figure out something different when I was asked to return full time. My persistence had paid off!
To compare this class to my class from last year would be like comparing apples and oranges. In fact, the only things they had in common were that both classes were full of 6th and 7th grade students and that class was held in the same building. This group challenged me more than I was expecting. Though the classroom numbers were much smaller than they were last year, this group was a much needier and significantly more vocal group. Whereas my students last year truly got along with each other (save for once instance between two of my boys), my classroom was in constant conflict. It was a lot more difficult to get this group engaged in activities. I had to alter my strategies a lot to make things work.
Don’t get me wrong. I still liked this group of kids. Things were just different, and there were a number of challenges that arose that were beyond our control. The school went through three social workers over the course of the year before they finally wound up with a good one. We lost our gym teacher, and we classroom teachers were responsible for our kids’ P.E. periods, losing our breaks and gaining headaches in the process. It got even worse when basketball (the sport of choice for about 90% of the students in the school) was outlawed. My class had to move classrooms because the heating unit in our original classroom went out. We even had to spend two days in the library and conference room when our replacement classroom had problems! But as I told my kids, sometimes survival is the greatest victory. We may have limped to the finish line, but we crossed that line nonetheless.
I wouldn’t have made it through the year were it not for a number of wonderful coworkers. We pooled our lemons together to make the best lemonade we possibly could. It wasn’t easy, but we made it work. We always do.
I don’t know where my journey will take me next. I’m not sure whether or not this particular chapter of my life is ready to be closed. What I do know is that this year, though extremely exhausting, made me better, stronger, and wiser. I’ve got what it takes to go toe to toe with the next challenge, wherever and whatever that is.
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