Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Lisa in the News
You can view it on journalist Anthony Wilson's blog.
Congratulations Lisa for your poise, composure, and grace on the news!
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Yoga
The Clock, the constant in our life, by Terri
Stop, listen. You may hear the wind or breathing or distant talking but lying underneath is ticking. Let the sound fill you. To some the noise reminds them of appointments and schedules ; it creates anxiety, but I want you to push that feeling aside. Others at the sound feel aged. They realize that they're getting closer to life's final lap, but push that feeling aside. Let the sound flow through you, peacefully. Let the enormity of it fill your head.
Time is something we never think about in its definition but in its common form. Constantly talking about it, revolving our lives around it.
"What time is it?"
"How about four o'clock?"
"How much longer?"
"Five more minutes!"
It is the one thing we can depend on, but the thing we hate the most.
Do you hear it? The ticking, constant and unwavering. I doesn't care about how we feel. It has no mercy. It will age you, from young and fair to old and weathered. But it gives us memories. It teaches us, so that when we near our time ends we will be wise and learned. The wrinkles to some will be ugly, but in my eyes they are evidence of an old friend, one that was there until the end.
So the ticking, to me, is the reminder of the one thing that will never change. Always there. Just listen to it.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Forlorn, by Alex
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
On Metamorphosis and Immaturity, by Alex
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Changes, by Yuletta
As we became even closer, I knew. I noticed the little fingers and the black converse shoes. The tears begin to flow like a stream, but no words or noises came from my mouth. The policeman looked at me as he slowly pulled back the white sheet. His face was revealed. My heart sunk as I dropped to my knees and began to weep. My body began to shake. I felt like I was hyperventilating, as my body heaved up and down as I cried. I buried my face in the cape of his neck. This can’t be true. Not him! What did I do wrong? Nothing or nobody could convince me of anything right now. I was so caught up. I was so caught up, I didn’t even hear the police talking behind me. I was so caught up, I didn’t realize I was being lifted from the ground. I began to scream and move my body violently, fighting at anyone who came after me. I watched as he pulled the cover back over his body. I watched as they lifted his lifeless body and put him on stretchers. I watched as they took him. My life, my son.
It has been three years since my son’s death. I’ve never thought I’d over come that day, month, and the years. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of him. It took awhile, but I’m actually learning how to deal with his death. I realized that sitting here, being angry and depressed, wasn’t going to take the pain away. It wasn’t going to bring him back. I realized that I needed to get my mind focused on something else. I didn’t know what else to do so I decided to go to college. I’m still young so I figured that it wouldn’t matter. I’m studying the field of Criminal Justice. My son was killed by a hit and run driver and has never been caught. Justice hasn’t served its purpose yet and I’m determined to make a difference. I-
“Danielle!”
I quickly snapped out of my daze when I heard my name. I looked up and saw my best friend standing above me. I smiled and gathered my papers.
“Hey girl, what’s up?” I asked as I stood and grabbed my purse.
“Nothing girl. Are you ready for some lunch?” she asked as she held the door open for me. We walked out and began to walk across the street to our favorite restaurant. As we were walking, I noticed a little girl crossing the street, without her parents. I frowned as I wondered “where are her parents?” As I began to get Alicia’s attention, a car came zooming by. I instantly lost my breath. The little girl turned around just as the car came to a holt. I clenched my chest and sighed deeply, silently thanking God.
“Come on girl, let’s go.” Alicia said as she grabbed my wrist. We walked inside o the restaurant and seated ourselves.
“Are you okay D?”
“Yes. It’s just . . . you know.” I said as I glanced down briefly.
“Yeah, I know. D, you are so strong. I look up to you girl! I mean . . . I don’t see how you can do this.”
“Do what?” I took a sip of my water.
“Being patient. D, it has been three years since De’Shawn’s death and his killer hasn’t been caught yet. I mean if I was you, GIRL I would’ve flipped!”
“I did.” I quickly said.
“I mean yeah, I know. But I still would be flipping!”
We laughed. I loved this girl.
“I did Alicia. You were there. You know I was out of it for awhile. There’s just a point of time when you have to accept things. Deep down inside do I want to kill that person? Yes! But I can’t sit here and be angry at the world when I can be doing something about it.”
“I feel you girl. I know De’Shawn is looking down on his mommy AND his God mommy,” I smiled and giggled “I’m proud of you D. I love you girl.”
“I love you too girl.”
Monday, November 19, 2007
The Connection, by Brianna
Every single year you are put into a group of new classes, with a group of new and old people. You learn the teacher’s name, how long they’ve been teaching, where they taught before, if they’re married, or if they have any kids. You go through an entire ten months staring some man or woman in the face when they’re supposed to be teaching you something. Showing you some life altering information like what x will equal if 23x+5x+2=150, or better yet what the perfect construction of a sentence looks like. For 180 days we look these people in the face, and nine times out of ten, we will never know who were looking at.
Ms. Marquis took the time. She spent 180 days with us and the time went by too fast. She told us her aspirations, her experiences, what she expected from us as students AND as people. She was kind and generous, but business was business. As long as you held your own she was going to hold hers.