Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Deep Thoughts

Below are a list of quotes I have said over the years.  As a teacher I am always using these quotes to help my students. Students at all levels enjoy small bits of information and inspiration. It is much easier to swallow and retain small bites rather than trying to eat life's lesson in one bite...you might choke yourself to death. So here are my bite-sized messages for you to snack on.

-In loves eyes we see many things. But what we often fail to see is the end.

-The reason the ones who love you most try so hard to protect you is it's about seeing something in you they don't see in themselves; thus, wanting to protect that.
-In our fight for equality we have forgotten a personal goal of being great. And today what Chicano people need isn't equality, but great people to lift us out of poverty and despair. As it stands today in America we are only equal in the sense that we are equally left to find our own way.
-There are no giant men, only giant hearts.
-The mind is where it wants to be. If it wants to suffer it will suffer. If it wants to rejoice it will rejoice. If it wants to heal it will heal. In this life you can't expect anything, and you can't ask for much, but you can always feel however you WILL.
-I have always been more inclined to believe that all we do is love; hate is just a confused version of it.

-I am whatever you say i am, because when i am gone i won't be around to say you're wrong.

-I won't say anyone can be anything they want, but I will say anyone can be better than they are...even greater than they ever imagined.

-Gratitude is too often overlooked, but it is a quality that truly builds both the person who gives it and the one who receives it.

-In our weakest moments we discover our greatest strength.

-Take courage, be compassionate, have hope, and give love.

-Strength is what you have when you have nothing left...how great that strength depends on what you've done with your life.

-History has taught us that Laws aren't the problem. Laws in the hands of prejudice people are the problem. Even when this country legally believed in Separate but Equal, it was always separate, but NEVER equal. People are prejudice and racist; and when frustrated with the way a group of people behave they will act and/or see with greater accordance against that group. The ongoing pressure of constantly being reminded that you are unwanted, whether legal or illegal, is what breaks the will of Chicano youth. It takes FORTITUDE to endure it throughout our life. Where Whites never experience this pressure, we are called to be better. Unfortunately, we are not all granted the gift of fortitude and magnanimous attitude. Once again, as Chicanos we begin our race 1 foot in the hole and carrying a burden. We are not free to run the same race our White competitors are in this marathon.

-What is love? it is that last ounce of strength...that last breath you
take...that dieing feeling...that final prayer...that promise to give
it all away for one more day...love is the most difficult part of life,
but it is the only thing that makes life worth living.

-Success doesn't look for you, and you can't search for it. It is
something you find in diligent hard work.

-Jealousy is just lack of motivation.

-I am not a walk in the park, i am a journey. i am not a moment, i am a life changing experience. you will love me & hate me. i cannot be taken lightly, i will weigh heavy on your mind. i am the greatest challenge you will take.TAKE IT!

-We all cheer for our hero when he rises for us.  But when he falls We all line up to cast stones...and there is no one to rise for him when he is falling. 

-Though we may be able to move on from our past, we should never move beyond.
-At times I feel as though I've acted with impunity...Today, I am trying to act as though my actions affect those around me. I have always felt that when we feel responsible over others we become better people...citizens...and leaders.
-To decide, and to be confident are closely related. Their relationship in you will make your life a mess or bliss.

-Help comes in many different forms and at many different times. However, know this, it will always come when you want it to come when you help yourself.

-Always say thank you, so that you may be welcomed.
-Sometimes your biggest obstacle is you. Who knows or understands the depth of your heart and soul? One thing for sure, you need to find a place within yourself to come clean about who you are, where you want to be and how to get there. All things are hopeless until you decide.

-You will find victory when you expect the unexpected; and execute unexpectedly.

-When we are high upon a mountain we cannot afford to stumble. Our valleys are deep & difficult to climb out of.Therefore we must walk humble close to the ground.

-The more you hate the less room you have in your heart to love. Kids, do more loving and you will be loved more; do more hating and you will be hated more.

-Great things happen in critical moments when put in the hands of courageous and capable people.

-My only true commodity is my courage...for without that I wouldn't have done much with my life and you wouldn't know much about me.

-If I could find out where courage comes from I'd be rich. In as much as I can ascertain I can only guess that courage comes from having great fear and acknowledging it.

The Real O.C. -La Verdad

These streets weren’t paved with gold, but with lost souls…some unrealized dreams, some pot holes that caused some to stumble, some to crash and remain stranded.  Excuse me if this reads a bit poetic, I don’t mean to mislead because poetry is often seen as beautiful and life on Leatrice couldn’t be that.  Perhaps there is a hint of Poetry in the form of justice.

Where's My Opinion?
Now I know I may be out of place since I'm not another old white guy writing my opinions about the on goings of other old white guys. I'm just a kid who grew up in the OC and to this point have remained rather silent. But, I am the OC. I am that part that doesn't get any attention in an Opinion Section, but rather in the local section, or sometimes the front page, in that Black and White area of court cases and murder suspects.
I would love to have an opinion. I would love to share my opinion. I would love to have something for old white men to read and think, "Who's this...Why is he in the opinion section of MY OC REGISTER?"
Not that I'm making it about race, because it really isn't. It's about having a voice. It's about being heard, about being represented, and about sharing the OC.
With that said, my commentary would be like this:
Here it is, not what you've seen on TV (Fox 11, or MTV), the real OC, no subtitles.

The OC--La Verdad

These streets weren’t paved with gold, but with lost souls…some unrealized dreams, some pot holes that caused some to stumble, some to crash and remain stranded. Excuse me if this reads a bit poetic, I don’t mean to mislead because poetry is often seen as beautiful and life on Leatrice couldn’t be that. Perhaps there is a hint of Poetry in the form of justice.
This episode of the OC will not be televised, it will broadcast in time, in life, and across a channel of white noise.
Far from the beach, and away from the luxuries of beautiful women, big homes, and fancy cars there are three friends who's lives are intertwined with drugs, violence, and poverty.
Our characters are Black and Latino. Our characters live in large apartment complexes.
That's enough of a preview. Will you stay tunned? Will you care for their story...for their opinion?
Opinions are suppossed to give us insight into our problems. If our problem is overcoming poverty, or the low AP scores of certain schools, or voter registration, shouldn't the opinions of those directly involved be counted as insightful?
We'll see. We'll see.

Beautiful Times

She loved him so much.  Especially his smile that greeted her hostility no matter how angry she was at him.  She was always so upset with him, for nothing really, she thought. 
            “Stop it!!!  I hate when you do that.”  She seemed to be always saying.
            “Ya, but if I died tomorrow, you’d wish I’d do it again.”  His charmed response that still cuts her deep.
            “Why…Why did you have to say that to me?”  She repeats to herself every time she gets in those quiet moments where she remembers those annoying things he’d do: the toilet seat up; drinking from the bottle; gazing at the TV (instead of her).
She sits again in that familiar place and guilt pours over to tears, and she cries one last time, “Honey, please do it again…one last time.”

Now That I'm Happy

It seems that there is no real relief from the pain of a broken heart.  How does one just stop the hurt?  I mean if it were possible what would that really say about love?  Could we ever love someone forever if it didn’t hurt to lose him or her?  We would come and go out of relationships like nothing if there was nothing to lose.
            When I was a young wrestler facing an opponent that my coaches were certain I was the underdog they would always say, “You got nothing to lose.”  I guess they figured that because I had nothing to lose I wouldn’t have any pressure and be able to relax enough to pull out the victory. 
            In contrary to all that, when I was in college a very wise coach told me, “If you’ve got nothing to lose then why are you out there…what are you fighting for?”  Well, sometimes in love there are those of us who love with nothing to lose, and there are those who love with everything to lose.  I am the latter. 


When I was younger I Dreamed.  I dreamed to be bigger, older, stronger.  I dreamed to not be so poor anymore.  I dreamed to not struggle again.  I dreamed of being Spiderman, Superman, or any superhero that was strong enough to save lives and standup to the bullies on my street. 
When I was younger I dreamed of no more tears.  I dreamed too never be hungry—I wanted to eat anytime I wanted to eat, and any food I felt like eating.  I dreamed of a better job for my Dad so that my mother would stay home instead of work.  I dreamed of better days than those hard painful ghetto days. 
I dreamed of hitting a baseball out of Chavez Ravine.  I dreamed of Dodger Blue and a shinny new white uniform with my name on it.  I dreamed of Sugar-Ray Leonard…and one day knocking him out.  I dreamed of being the next great champ. 
I dreamed…and these dreams were deferred.  I’m who I am now…wondering, Is it too late for me to still dream.  There’s no time for dreams.  There’s no time for sleep.  All I do now is live.  And now when I look out at the crowd of students I wonder what dreams they will leave behind and why…and if they knew what I know…would they cry too?     

Ex Girlfriend

There’s this pain that is always with me.  They say it will always be.  They say I will never be the same.  Some how pain changes you.  I suppose it is the scar the wound leaves.  Kind of like when I was a kid and was playing around with a friends beebee gun and accidentally shot myself in the leg.  I never told my mother, so I never had it removed—I just didn’t want to get in trouble, or prove her right, “You’ll poke your eye out with that thing.”  So I continue to suffer from this little beebee in my leg.  It hurts whenever a pretty girl sits on my lap—or an ugly one, doesn’t matter, you would think it would hurt more since the ugly ones are already annoying by being on your lap univited—it drives that beebee almost against my femur, it’s some crazy pain.  So this pain is always there even if there is no one there.  So I’m not just meandering, there is something causing this lack of motivation…this internal woe that can’t be fixed by medicine.  But, I guess if I would have told my mother of my trouble I could have had this beebee taken out.  There must be some dark pleasure in pain, because this beebee is still there and I have the resources to just have the damn thing taken out myself.  Perhaps I just like the memory…I was young then. Yes, they say it changes you…I guess that beebee keeps me away from ugly girls.  I guess this pain will keep me somewhere too.  I still here my friend saying, “Be careful, she’s loaded.”  I should have listened better…or been a better shot…or known more about beebee guns…or just been too afraid of mothers words, “Stay away from them son…you’ll poke your eye out.”  But I was kid, and loved to play…loved to take risks…and the pain was easier to take, and I wasn’t afraid of blood…or falling from a tree, or riding my bike off a steep hill…I was afraid of shoplifting, but I did that anyway…so long as I didn’t get caught.  I didn’t know a heart could be broken.