I have no sense of pride
when I wake up each morning
to get ready for school.
I do not wish to be here;
not because
I just don’t want to go to school
like most kids,
It’s because I myself
and so many others
have felt what it feels
to be victims here inside these schools.

When you're a victim
you face a fear of similar acts
repeating again,
it's like waking up
and expecting someone to punch you
and knowing you can avoid it.
school is like the punch,
and we show up each day,
waiting for the punch
to strike us down,

we could avoid it
by not showing up,
but we have to show up,
so there's no way out
of the fear.
When you're a victim
of verbal abuse
you never know when it's going to strike,

when someone speaks to you
you're left on edge all the time,
when it happens due to
staff and students
nothing seems safe anymore.
You lose your trust,
you lose your friends
you lose your freedom of safety.

Sadly, most of the time
when someone becomes a victim
of verbal abuse,
the teachers causes it to occur
for two reason;
the first,
because they allow it to happen
and second
the worst
they do it themselves
to the students.

In the classroom
you're there to learn.
No wonder students
have picked-up it's allowed
to put down someone
for being different in any way.
If we learn from our teachers,
and they have taught their students
it's okay to put others down,
how do you blame the students then?

How can you blame students
for learning how to harass a kid
if a teacher single handedly
gave them permission?
When they were being mentored in
the act of putting down,  
instead of raising someone
who was a little weaker up?

How can you undo the damage
put onto the victims
who no longer want to walk into school
but still do each and everyday
because
they have to?
How can you deny a kid
their right to sit in guidance
instead of go to that class
when they are being mistreated
and harassed?

How can you Punish these kids
with detentions
when they have been through worse punishment
than you have the power to give out
with a yellow slip?
When they all say
“it's my word against an adults”
when I’ve heard
the same cries and tears
poor out of girls and boys
who hate it here
because they feel their voices
are unheard,

there issue has never been handled right.
“I reported the teacher
and it's like nothing happened
and only made my time
in that class worse”
“They told me I can't
report the teacher
and I have to report
the students,
How do I report
almost all my class?
someone or probably everyone
will give me a problem
when they get back?”
How do you honestly solve that?

You can’t fix the damage that has been done.
The faculty here
has put students
against students
while they sit back for their amusement,
its sickening
that we allow schools
to partake into such crimes,
To allow Faculty
to insult individual students,
based on their biased opinions
on their Ethnicity,
Religion,
Gender,
and Disabilities.
This is considered a Hate Crime.

Schools Supporting Hate Crimes
and doing absolutely nothing
but skating around the issue
as if that will stop
the appalling act
from happening.
Fooling Around,
to Teasing,
to Playful Jokes,
to Hurtful Ones,
To Insulting Ones considering to be bullying,
Than lead to the start of Harassment,
and Verbal abuse of an individual,
That Can From there,
only move forward
unless the victim is removed
from the environment,
to becoming a Hate Crime.

It was one of those gray but somehow bright-skied New England Wednesday mornings that made you sad for anyone who wasn’t there. Fall freshness demanded my attention, like a hungry pet, from every open lattice-window in our stuffy common room.

As I watched, for a marvelous moment, the world was a cartoon whirly-gig. Trees, writhed, animal-like, to be free of their multicolor leaves, shedding them - like bad blind-dates. The four-color debris was immediately drafted away on gust-streams, those invisible elves, and politely scattered in corners.

I’m waiting for test results today and time seems to be passing with vegetable slowness. In uncertain hours like these, some students armor themselves with alcohol while others indulge in religious solace. Not Leong and I. Leong’s a communist - it seems that communists grumpily tough things out.

I was raised a Catholic, so I rightly deserve whatever bad thing’s going to happen. In Catholicism, failure and guilt are accepted everywhere, like the best credit cards. Any success is automatically categorized as unexpected, undeserved, if not fraudulent, and above all, temporary. In fact, life itself is little more than an inconvenient test on the way to wherever.

“We’re living in the age of crisis.” I announced, agitatedly, to the otherwise quiet common room (where the usual crowd was attempting to study).
“Figured that out all by yourself”? Sunny asked, “You ought to go to Yale,” she added.
“Hear me out,” I say, as if anyone cares enough to stop me. “Our parents had their war on terror” I say, with air-quotes, “but we got a pandemic, a crazy President complete with insurrection, a faltering supply chain, a cost-of-living crisis, renewed nuclear war threats and the climate meltdown. It’s hard to study with all that going on.” I self-declared.

“It’s hard to study because I’m out of watermelon.” Sophie said, digging through the fridge.
“You aren’t anyone these days unless you’re battling a crisis.” Sophie noted.
“Your parents are ALIVE,” Leong said dryly, “I MET them and they’re going through all that too.”
“And are we (mankind) going to take any real, adult steps to address these issues?" I asked, looking around to see if my outrage was mirrored, “apparently not.” I sermonized rhetorically.

“YOU” Lisa said, shaking her head, “are a hopeless optimist - you left out a few crises.”
“WhatEVER,” I declared, “It’s still hard to study,” I reiterated, while distractedly chewing on a #2 pencil that Lisa had loaned me.

Later, we’re outside, taking in the semi-sun and reclining on our fold-up “better beach” lounge chairs. We’re off-and-on playing “That’s why I am like I am.”
“When I was in 10th grade, I had 22 detentions.” Sunny revealed.
“22! What for?” Anna asked, looking over at Sunny while shading her eyes from the sun that briefly pierced the clouds and decided to stab her fiercely in the face.
“Talking in class.” Sunny admitted. “Wow, THAT’S a shocker.” Lisa laughed.
“Shut up!” Sunny laughed, adding a ******* for emphasis. “I got those detentions on purpose. I had the love-jones for my English teacher, and she supervised lunch detentions.
I would bring in these lesbian paperbacks, like “Keeping YOU a secret,” to hold up and pretend read - while eying her, seductively."
Anna gasped, “Did she ever respond?”
“No,” Sunny said with a sigh, “My love was unrequited.”
“That was a lot of trouble to go through.” Lisa commented.
“Being gay isn’t that deep,” Sunny observed, adding the tag, “That’s why I am like I am.”

Crushed Crayons
Strewn pastel shades
Origami boats
Report Cards
Algebra
Geometry
Detentions
D+
D+
Hoots
Shrieking
Mocking

­*********

MAMA – YOU CRYING ?
No-just a little chalk dust…
MAMA – WHERE IS DADDY ?
Close your eyes
Place your hand
On your heart
There’s Daddy …
MAMA – YOU CRYING ?
No- just a little star dust …

MAMA – WHATS THAT ….?
Twinkle..
Twinkle…

I have two facts for you that exist in my mind -
1. I am normal
2. I do not 'feel' normal
I have never considered myself to be normal.
I knew i wasn't normal when at the age of eight after my Dad left my school hired a counsellor just for me,
and i wasn't normal how after then i was the only pupil to be from a single parent family.
I wasn't normal when just after this abandonment my body entered early puberty,
and so feeling weird didn't stay a feeling, it became a reality.
Picked on for things out of my control, i felt like a freak.
Even at the age of eight, every aspect of my identity was up for scrutiny.
I knew i wasn't normal when in secondary school i would purposely get detentions
to spend time with teachers, because the the turmoil of the school yard was a teenage no man's land.
The company of those my own age is something i will never understand.
I knew i wasn't normal when i would hesistate in conversation when someone asked me who i fancied in my class.
The name of a random boy rolled from my tongue in an attempt to not blow my cover.
I knew i wasn't normal when my tweets coming out as bi were passed around like breaking news.
When i tried to defend myself in the interrogations, teachers would sternly say to me -
'That's not appropriate to be talking about in school' like my sexuality was a hushed secret, even though the straight girls were never silenced.
I knew i wasn't normal when i had to say i was bi, when in fact this was a lie. A lie to help me pass, pass and hold on to some straight privilege.
At the age of sixteen i questionned my worth and value as a person, trying to blame myself for the treatment i was subjected to.
I knew i wasn't normal when i decided to place my emotional pain onto a physical space, then patching up the damage as a form of ironic self-care.
I left school for a college, desperately seeking freedom from the constraints of a Catholic school.
I never felt comfortable in sixth form, being there my mind felt like a spinning waltzer i was strapped to for two years.
At seventeen i knew i wasn't normal when i was prescribed the maximum dose of sertraline, then mirtazapine, venlafaxine, fluoxetine.
By this point in my life i was on a tally of maybe six counsellors and two CBT therapists.
I knew i wasn't normal when i started to blame myself for the therapy not being successful. Maybe i was just meant to be depressed.
Changing my thinking styles, emotional regulation, journalling my feelings and triggers, i knew exactly what i had to do.
I knew i wasn't normal when i clung onto certin things as comfort, like my adoration for florence and the machine.
I started to experiment, toying between wanting to fit in and wanting to be myself, painting bright eyeshadow on my lids as a vibrant mask to carry me through.
I knew i wasn't normal when i reached out to the local crisis team experiencing auditory hallicinations, hearing sounds only meant for my ears.
My emotional states are a product of my trauma, which is difficult to navigate as the world's greatest performer.
Maybe i was meant to face this internal torment, or until now i hadn't considered i could be neurodivergent.

Foster, what family? Lower class, dream of  vacation
******* what trickles down, affecting a life situation
White to Blue Collar; a rebuild or invasion?

Millions inside the boxes of convention
Justified superficial, backhanded salutations
Refute Love, proposed as mankind’s invention
Pulled by a string of instant gratification
Finding freedom’s temporary
If ever, long term locations
Constricted, system of classifications
The socially admissible connections,
Not to mention gangs of corrections
Flowing through the previous, my own generation

For the infinite hours
One after the other
Trade integrity for the illusion of power
Not all those with a gun should be considered a coward
Face the souls sold on Wall Street,
Remember those from Twin Towers

Ground zero, abandoned. Now bare, desolate
The idea of terrorism denied, while some wrestle it
Rationales dislocate, post hairline fracture
Frontal lobe imposter, posing in rapture
As if talent, love, or hate could ever be captured
Held at gun point, then forgotten years after
My children will one day look to me for the answer

What’s society, this twisted maze we live in?
I will gaze in their eyes with the same exact question
And don’t ever allow me again not to mention
Real criminals can’t learn from minute or life-long detentions
Some incapable of that level of retention
As our battered soldiers forever sleep at attention

Politically correct, tongues in consistent hesitation
Kiss police ***, only to go to the station
Before the thought of who signed the citation
Treated as if it were a felony violation
Our basic rights according to our nation
Arizona & Co for minority elimination

Die fighting the statute of poverty’s limitations

vi.i.xi

the order,
the routine,
the rules,
the reasons I want to skip class,
the reasons I do,
the reasons I get detentions,
the reasons I never show,
the schedule,
the lack of order,
the up,
the back down?
the back up then down again but across the school on top of it!
the swimming pool,
the ******* swimming pool,
the **** no I'm not swimming,
the I won't make it to math class.
the guidance office,
the guidance counselor,
the guidance counselor who says she hopes she's not taking up my time,
the period is my lunch,
the location i'm in,
the guidance office,
the problem,
the fact its every monday wednesday and friday,
the fact I may wanna eat,
the fact I wanna see my friends,
the fact you're taking my little social life away,
the bell rings,
the ring is the most joyful irritating noise I hear all day,
the fact I forgot about the freshman for a second,
the ring is the second irritating noise I hear all day.
the next class is science,
the fact your required appointment runs too long,
the fact your class is so far away,
the fact you have a minute rather than five to get there,
the fact you don't make it halfway before the bell rings,
the fact you start crying because you are late for class,
the fact your life is over,
the fact you duck into the bathroom,
the sticky doors are of no concern right now,
the bathroom stalls are all empty,
the middle one you claim and you sit,
the floor you sit, you cry, try to be silent,
the effort to breath, trying not to have a full on panic attack,
the things going on in your head,
the dread pours in,
the anxiety levels rushes in.
the thoughts poor in and spill even when its over flown,
the fact you call your mom,
the fact she gets you off the floor,
the fact she reminds you,
the fact you have to touch that sticky door,
the door you touched once before,
the hand you touch the door with you used to wipe tears with,
the sly way to open the door,
the silence you make,
the bent down head,
the quite,
the trying to act normal,
the nothings going on trip,
the way to the main office,
the fact you on the phone in the hallway,
the fact you made it to the office,
the fact the principal wants to see you,
the fact you start explaining what happened,
the schedule,
the wrongs,
the wrongs they caused,
the people they put in classes to embarrass you,
the abuse the teachers gave you,
the list rambled on and on,
the fact he yelled at you,
the fact he said you were not being respectful,
the fact this school never gave you respect,
the fact they took everything you had left,
the fact he continued to yell til the office ladys got up
the ladys got up,
the people flocked to the door,
the principal went silent,
the fact you still continued to cry,
the fact he acted as if nothing happened,
the fact he tried to say he was gonna fix it all,
the fact you both knew nothing was going to happen,
the fact you both were right,
the fact once you parted ways you were then greeted with a call down,
the fact someone sent you to the nurse,
the walk was the best part,
the pondering of what its for, allergies, medication information?
the arrival is shocking to you,
the nurse greets you and leads you,
the small room you cornered into,
the place where she asks to view you,
the places on your body like your arms,
the fact she implies other places could be searched
the next time
the fact you now know this will happen again,
the fact you having an anxiety attack,
the fact you wanted to say no,
the fact you know if you did,
the next act they'd do is send you to the hospital,
the scare tactics is not fair,
the fact you go home,
the fact you cry,
the fact you don't wanna go back to this place,
the fact they won't let you transfer,
the fact you have done all you could of done.
the fact that they still have the nerve to of ****** up your schedule.

He sat down at his desk
With his face buried deep into it
His sweatshirt road his broadened shoulders
Something about this guy interested me
He was new, fresh slate at a new school

We exchanged hellos
We exchanged names
I threw out an invite to chill
And he politely and happily accepted

There was something odd about him
In a good way
Offbeat
Offbeat boy
I gave him a nickname because his real name was to plain for him

I introduced him to my circle and they didn’t like him at first
But over time they became as thick as thieve
We all were
New bonds were made
Bridges built and doors opened

The things he would say
So random
So off base
So hilariously out of place
I loved it
I always looked forward to what he was going to say next

He was a true friend
There was no lying, no evil in him
He was pure, a pure person

He loved nature
His love was Mother Earth
Shedding at tear at environmental ignorance

He was socially awkward
He couldn’t talk to girls, or anyone that wasn’t one of us
He would get into fight we would have to talk him out of
The confusion he gave to the teachers and frustration he gave to the entire student body
He didn’t know any better

Writing a funny speech about what he would do if he was voted for class president
Then having it being taken as a threat against the school thus getting him suspended and having the police search his house for weapons

The complete disbelief of his guidance councilors
And the flabbergasted administrators were all gut busting comedies to us

As we approached graduation news of him going into the navy came about

And we were all in disbelief
But it was true
A boy who couldn’t life a five pound dumbbell was going to serve our country

Good for him

Even now I can recall our adventures up to that point
Staying out late and wandering the streets in the middle of a cold winter night
Cat calling at the mall, trying to pick up girls
Breaking things
Invading private properties
Avoiding police entanglements
Detentions
Suspensions
So many laughs
So many memories

When he left it was as if the once bright aluminous room we all shared was a little bit dimmer
But we were full of pride
We knew he would shine on else where

From Michigan to Texas to California for boot camp and training he went
Our friend went on a journey, his own journey

One year later, we all await his return

He is back, oh the change is overwhelming
He shines brighter, he’s witty
He’s mature, bold and confident

He’s become a man, he found himself

He has claimed his long sought after love

The one who has been walking a difficult path and strides in beauty

He made passionate love to her last night
He woke up from her house and came to mine at 5 AM

I awoke to find him sipping coffee in my kitchen; he had a smile in his heart that was bigger than the stupid grin on my face
I sat and talked to him, chugged my coffee and got dressed

No we were going on another adventure, two weeks
Two weeks with him was all I have
Then he’s being deployed for two years
He speaks of oncoming war with Syria and North Korea
His views have changed
He believes in war
My, my I’m astonished
This is my friend?
The awkward, soft spoken dude in my history class?
Now I wait to see what happens next
With one of my dearest friend, Chives

I just cant  understand the argument
That their sending.
Where white guys and black guys  
Can't just be friends its never ending
Truth be told its got nothing to do with our skin
It's a mental condition that will doom us in the end

I think back twenty years
Back then I was just ten.
Dominique and Dave
They were my two best friends.
I didn't even bother to see the color of their skin.
I'm white their black no more, no care.
No fear no hate just friends the end.

Flash forward to the these days.
Today and yesterday.
I am called a racist all day
Monday through sunday.
Because I wear a badge and I have a loaded gun.
People just assume that I'm a bigot
That I'm out to **** someone.

They say that I must be something
Something that I'm not.
They only see the news,
I'm a racist pig cop.
I cannot drink a coffee
Without whispers and stares.
"Hands up" , "Don't shoot". t
The words are always there.
They shout them as I'm driving
Standing in a Mall
They scream then while I'm walking
Or responding to a call.
I've never been a racist
I don't think I could.
People of all colors
Come in both bad and good.
We need to love each other ,
I really wish we would
God never wanted this,
lets stop this as we should.

My gun, my badge
Have nothing to do with me.
Its my job, my life.
why can't these people see.
I didn't chose this life
To pick on other races.
I chose this life to put
Criminals in safer places.
I've never suited up with any ill intentions
To arrest black people
or send them to detentions.
I only play mean
When the world turns me to stone.
Inside I am a brother, a son, and hopefully a father.
Your skin color does not matter to me a single ounce.
Your actions gain my attention and that's the whole amount.

If you break the law I'll find you.
Hurt someone I'm coming.
No matter what the color
I promise I'll do something.

Racist is not my name,
Its Jay Hello how are you?
Stop calling me a racist
It's mean and its just hurtful
I'll give my life for you,
I will not be remorseful.
I'll pull you from a fire
I'm really that resourceful.
Its all how you view things.
Life is what we make it.
I'll smile at your kids.
And find them when their lost
I'll break into your car
When your keys have been forgot.
I'll always come running
Whenever you call me
Black ,white,red,blue,purple.
They are just colors
I'm here to help people.
My sisters , My brothers.

To say that I'm a racist is bigotry at its best.
Defining a person for a color or badge upon their chest.
To say someone is something
Without knowing their whole story.
Is like burning a book,
You destroy them without warning.
You don't know me
So please don't think it's true.
Judge who I am
Know me before you do.

Would you think less of me if I told you how much I want to kiss your thighs?
And your hip bones
And that v of skin
Feel the heat of your body that I can’t turn off
Even in the depths of winter,
Your warmth is in every cheek to cheek hug
Every brush of your hand over mine
We could be in the icy temperatures of the north pole and I would still feel a hotness in your fingertips when you pass me another layer
I’m a good girl
But looking at you makes me feel like I deserve a thousand detentions
I hope you know I love you when I think about your skin tight against mine
Your mouth hot on mine
My hands untucking your checked shirt
I refuse to call these thoughts *****
Because your body is so **** beautiful
The muddy soil around a bright flower doesn’t devalue its worth, does it?
I hope you know I think your heart is as powerful as the sun
You’re what burns every piece of wooden structure that holds my body stable
Human jenga
And even though you have no game plan,
You always win.

Dear Brother,

I was struggling.
Anxiety attacks and utter insecurity,
The pit in my stomach was a permanent crater
But I saw you
At recess, standing on the blacktop alone
And I forgot about myself

They told you you couldn’t play football with them.
Your limp was horrible, you didn’t understand the rules exactly
Boys running up to tap me on the arm
Yelling “Get him away from me”
“Tell him to leave me alone”
How am I supposed to tell my brother no one wants to be his friend
No one wants to talk to you Ryan because they can’t understand what you’re saying
They don’t even want to try.

Everyday the school called home, he’s hopeless
Detentions for yelling at the teacher,
The one who didn’t bother to notice he was trying
And he did try too, so hard
So hard he came home calling himself stupid
Because that is all he summed up to at the glories of public highschool

Mom cried, and Dad tried to give her hope
That someday people would treat you right
And I prayed that I wouldn’t keep hearing kids mutter your name in the hallways
Completely unknowing that you were my brother
And all the times your frustration built,
Holes in the wall and broken door frames
I never ever blamed you.

Now we stand side by side at graduation
And I want you to know,
I couldn’t be more proud of us.
Dear brother,
You will always be one of the best things that ever happened to me