I haven’t always been a good basketball player. Many of my friends believe that I’m a solid point guard and very talented at that position. I earned two nicknames. I was called either Russell Westbrook or LeBron James. Many people admired my playing style and skills, but obviously I haven’t always been this good. At a young age, my left knee was not healthy and for years I suffered through knee pains. My mom often wondered why I was limping. She thought I was just walking funny at first and ignored it. After awhile I started complaining about my knee and that it hurts to walk. She didn’t know whether to believe me or not because I had a history of playing around a lot at home as a kid.

After 2 years, she finally made an appointment to see what was wrong with my knee. It turned out that two bone joints in my knee were rubbing together which was not good. I don’t remember what the medical term was but I understood that it was very serious. The doctors said this had to be like that all my life, but as I grew the pain started to grow as well and I felt it more and more. The doctors then suggested that I should do physical therapy for about 2 months.

After I completed it, my knee still had problems. A month or two later, I went back to physical therapy again. That also did not work at all. Being in and out of physical therapy twice sucked for me,I felt like my knee could never get better. I was tired of having knee pains especially when I’m active. I did various exercises that I was instructed to do at first, they were difficult but after awhile of getting used to them, they became easier to do.  When I was in 7th grade they suggested that I needed to have surgery to stop the pain or at least decrease it. I went through with the operation.

It was a Friday morning, I could remember my parents and siblings being there with me in the hospital sitting in the back waiting for the doctor and nurses to come take me to the operating room. I was laying down on the stretcher, waiting. One of the nurses explained what was going to happen and gave me medicine to drink that would make me fall asleep also with some juice to get rid of the funny taste it had.

As the the two nurses were talking to my family I started to feel sleepy, after about 10 minutes and I was out cold. When I woke up, I was laying down in a different area still feeling sleepy just a bit. I looked to my side and saw my mom approaching with some juice to give me. She asked how I was feeling.

“Good", I said as I tried to pull my back my covers to see my leg. My mom at first tried to tell me to relax until it was time for me to go, but my eagerness to see overcame me. I struggled to pull the covers back until my mom helped me. I took a look at my leg. It was covered in bandages and a big black cast to keep it from bending too much if I moved it. My leg was as stiff as a log. The nurses and doctor came to greet me once again. They said the operation was a success. They said I wouldn’t be able to bend my leg or walk on it until my stitches healed up after completing physical therapy for 3 months. I used crutches for two months as well. They grabbed a wheelchair for me, my dad wheeled me out and into his car to drive home.

I missed a whole week of school because the doctors suggested I be on rest for about that long. I really wanted to go to school and show off my toughness to my friends. I often became so bored because I stayed in my bed the whole week and I couldn’t go anywhere but to the bathroom and my mom often had to help me hop there because there’s about 4 steps to go up right outside my room leading up to the bathroom and I mostly never had the energy to make it by myself. When I walked into class on morning with my crutches, everyone stared at me as I headed towards my seat. My friends that I sat at the same table as asked me what happened. I told them about the surgery. They asked me a lot of questions about it including how it felt afterwards and I answered all of them.

I later discovered that the surgery meant that I couldn’t play basketball for awhile. Basketball was definitely one thing that contributed to my knee pains in the past because it’s a sport that requires a lot of leg movements such as running and jumping which could put a lot of pressure on my knee joints and cause too much pain for me to handle at times. I loved the sport so much though and I was good at my position. Since I was taller than most of my friends, I was a big man or played center. My role was to mostly stand near the basket to grab rebounds, score, or block shots.

During the process of healing, It felt like what others would refer climbing Mt. Everest as; very impossible. I went to physical therapy twice a week for 3 months as instructed. I did every exercise that my therapist told me to do. The first few weeks were focused on getting me to be able to bend my leg, the next few was strengthening it, then getting me to walk normally, and the final few were a mixture of all. I had to do many different painful leg exercises to get my knee back in shape. Although I couldn’t still yet bend my leg far enough to make my calf touch the back of my thigh and the doctor said I was medically cleared, I still was determined to make it better. I continued to do the exercises at home like my physical therapist suggested I’d do. I finally stopped when I felt like I didn’t need to do it anymore. My mom said that I shouldn’t stop if I didn’t want to run into anymore problems. Being so naive, I didn’t listen. I felt great and I could finally get my calf touch to the back of my thigh. I thought nothing could go wrong.

After the process of recovering I needed to get better at basketball. I didn’t play at all for at least 3 months so I had to be really rusty. I practiced a lot when it got warmer outside, but I noticed that there was a difference over time as I played. My vertical jumps and running jumps weren’t the same anymore. The operation did help decrease my pains, but it also decreased my leaping ability. I felt horrible because my friends were starting to grow and that meant that they could touch what I used to be able to touch when I jumped. I felt so small compared to everybody.

What actually hurt me the most is that the doctors said it would be a miracle if I were to grow to be over six feet tall. It hurt me a lot. I knew what that meant for me. I had to do what I always tried to escape doing since I started getting used to how I played basketball. I had to be a point guard if I wanted to be in the NBA. All point guard are required to have above average ball handling skills, very high basketball IQ, and be able to shoot jump shots sometimes. They’re basically the leader on the court for their team. I sucked at dribbling, I wasn’t that smart on the court, and I couldn’t shoot at all unless it was close to the basket or sometimes a mid range jump shot. Going through knee injuries really make it hard for you to play the same way in a sport such as basketball. I used to love driving to the basketball for layups often since I was usually stronger and faster than my opponent.

Things changed as I started to shoot 3’s more and more. I was scared to get  hurt. I was never known to be a good three point shooter in basketball and I can admit I was terrible at it at first. Driving to the basket definitely is very scary because you could potentially injure your leg somehow. That’s why I started shooting 3’s more. I needed to make some big changes though and I needed to make them fast. Just standing at the three point line to shoot 3’s wasn’t going to cut it for me. It was time to be aggressive. I started training with my nephews who were around my age all the time to get better. I did get better, but not high level point guard status.

In eighth grade, I joined the basketball team. I was very excited to play because it was my first time playing in any league. Well let’s just say it didn’t live up to my expectations. In the first game, We played a team who had mostly tall players who were at least 6 feet tall or taller. Our tallest player was 5’9”. I started that game at power forward as planned. I was being thrown around like a ragdoll in that game. There were many rebounds that I could have grabbed but didn’t because I wasn’t playing hard enough to grab them from the taller guys. Deep down, I was scared to get hurt.

We ended up losing that game and I also lost my starting spot to a friend who was one grade under me. It was tough dealing with losing my starting spot because that’s what I wanted. I did end up accepting my role coming off the bench  after the first 3 games or so. I may have not been a good rebounder for my team but I did play outstanding defense. In one game, I stopped a guy who had to be at least 6’5” from scoring to help us take the lead. We won the game even though it was really close. I did play good in a blowout win the previous game. I finished with what I could only remember was four points and two blocks. It was the only game I scored in and it made me gain my confidence in playing like myself again. I worked hard during the summer to gain a consistent jump shot and better dribbling ability.

A year later, I had already emerged as a good player in my first year of high school. I impressed a lot of my peers. It all happened that day. It was July 30, 2016, As I walked in through my front door from hanging out with my friend, I noticed that both my parents and stepmother sat in the living room as if they were expecting me. I greeted them and ran upstairs only for my mom to call me back down when I was halfway. She clearly wanted to tell me something important.

She told me to sit down next to her. She reached for my hand and held it with hers. I thought she was going to tell me that we were going out somewhere special. I was actually the words I never thought I’d hear. She said “Your brother, Lance. He’s dead.” All I can remember is a strange feeling that I’ve never had before explode in my body. I quickly rushed upstairs to the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it afterwards. My chest felt like someone reached in and snatched my heart. I loved my brother really much. He was the reason I even started playing basketball. He taught me a lot about basketball. He was my mentor and now I felt like I was on my own. I do remember our last one on one conversation about it. He wanted to know what position that I wanted to play so that he could teach me how to play it well. I wasn’t sure of my answer at the time, but he told me to start seriously considering it at my age. After his death, I didn’t play basketball until the middle of September.

Moving on from the situation was very tough. I still struggle with the thought at times. One thing that I know for sure is that I have family and friends who have my back no matter what. I’ve had talks with them before about situation. I haven’t opened up fully to anyone about it. I managed to keep all my feelings to myself. The main thing that fuels me to be a great point guard was him. I strictly was against having off days when I played. In the book “The Yellow Birds”, the Bartle faced many changes during his time at war in Iraq. His best friend was killed and he had to live with that. He showed signs of PTSD but tried to resist help.

When I was in 5th grade, I got my first C ever in writing, which was a subject I struggled with. I don’t remember how it happened. I don’t count it as a huge thing for me. I don’t know why, but I could never really tie any significance to it. I remember feeling really upset about it. I don’t think I have had a report card without a C since, which I guess never really seemed to bother me. I used to be a star student. It’s not like I lost motivation or stopped caring, things just were never the same. Everything changed for the worse. Every year since then my life has seemed to get progressively worse and worse in every way possible.

That’s the version of the story I tell myself...and only myself because I don’t tell this to anyone until now. Maybe if I did it wouldn’t have taken me so long to realize what actually happened. Here’s the real story: I got my first C in 5th grade. It happened to be in writing because I struggled to write that piece and turned it in late. I saw it coming, but when I saw it in black-and-green I think it did something to me. It was very devastating and discouraging. I haven’t had a report card without one since and that’s extremely embarrassing for me to admit. I used to be a star student. I became careless and had less drive to be that star student. I had a lot going on internally and externally and was excused in many ways because of that. I think I really got comfortable with hiding behind them, because facing the actual problem would have been really hard to do. Because of this, the school aspect of my life has suffered incredulously and that in turn negatively impacted all the other aspects of my life.

I guess, you could say I began to give up on getting back to a place where I was satisfied with my academic standing because it seemed unachievable, and still does. It’s not until something motivates me that I start to gain momentum and get back on my feet pursuing school work and activities. I fall into the same slump over and over and over; it’s a vicious cycle that I can’t seem to free myself of.  The cycle usually goes like this: I get an assignment, something substantial like an essay checkpoint. I spend a few minutes trying to come up with an idea of what I’m gonna do (I’m usually unsuccessful in my endeavors). I tell myself I’ll get around to it later and then for whatever reason, I don’t and it’s not until a few days after it’s due that the pressure sets in and I’m able to finish the assignment. I usually work well under pressure, but my problem is that pressure sets in too late. I have become comfortable, in a sense, with underperforming. When I started high school I recognized that I was entering a world different than the one I was accustomed to in grade school. I set expectations pretty high for myself in a sense. I told myself I got this because confidence is key and I knew that if I went in feeling like I would fail I would. At the same time, I recognized that it wouldn’t all be smooth sailing and that things would get hard at times when it came to school; that I would turn in a handful of assignments late and even get the occasional bad grade. The only thing that mattered was that I would bounce back and get back on track.

Freshman year was a lot harder than I was prepared for it to be. It started off just as great as I thought it would be. My first assignment was in English 1. I had to write a 350-word essay on how my past shaped who I was at the time, which is nothing compared to the 1200 word essay I’m writing now, but back then it seemed like a lot. However, because I was so determined to take high school head on, I didn’t even flinch. That night, I finished it in under an hour and turned it in the next day, no problem. I didn’t have to think about it, I just did it and I was proud of my work. Looking back that might have been the best and most confident I’ve felt in my entire high school experience. As time went on, it got a harder to stay on top of things-and it showed. My grades went from looking the best they had since 5th grade to looking worse than they ever had before in a matter of months. Still, I told myself it was an adjustment period and I was having trouble adjusting. I had plenty of time to grow and make up for it. It’s only my freshman year...but sophomore year didn’t prove to be  any better either…

I decided that junior year was going to different. I wasn’t going to mess up because I couldn’t afford to. I had one last chance to fix all the damage I had done in the past 2 years and I was determined to be successful.  Everything was going to be perfect...and it was...for a month. Then piece by piece it all fell apart, again. I had a lot of things contribute to that. I kept using surface solutions, like completing an assignment or two, but that didn’t stop the work from piling up. I wasn’t getting to the root of the problem and so I fell behind over and over and over again. I play it back in my mind and can see everything slowly unravel, piece by piece dropping like the petals on the wilting rose from Beauty and the Beast. Like it was nothing, the delicate, magical flower my motivation was, wasted away to nothing more than a stem. I couldn’t see that that was the problem, though, which made it hard to it solve it.

I was determined to hold on to and maintain the results of my hard work, but they still suffered a little bit. However, I managed to end the quarter with grades I haven’t seen since my freshman year, which was a little comforting. That comfort was short lived, though, as my grades began to drop like flies again. This was for more than one reason, but one of them was that I got lazy and I’m paying for it as I write this essay, up to my neck in overdue assignments. Only, difference is I am here, admitting out loud that my lack honesty with myself is a problem that I need to acknowledge and work on. Hopefully, now that I’ve done that, I can

move past it and learn how I can break this cycle. I realize there are times where I’ll back into old habits, but I will have to figure out a way to overcome it, which is gonna be easier now that I can see what the problem is. I can now learn and grow from this and it’ll only help me prepare to get through the problems I will come into contact with.

Admittance is the first step. I was taught from an early age that it is very important that I take responsibility for my decisions and actions. Learning that lesson took longer.  

At first, it was easy. All I had to do is tell mommy that I broke the vase accidentally. However, as I got older, the stakes got higher and honesty got more complicated for a lot of other reasons. Sometimes it’s hard to face the truth, especially when it reveals the parts of myself I’m least proud of and intent on keeping under wraps. I found that I even lied to myself… and that can get dangerous, though, because, if I believe it, it can influence the way I see a situation. That snowballed into a mess of things that could have been avoided if I had just been honest with myself.

Over the course of life I really just struggle with death. Life has became a stress. Its like im dealing with a fight over and over again. Death is a rocky point, I just been dealing with this for a while. Funeral after funeral just waiting to know when will it stop. No beating or hearing is the only thing that was going through my body when I get announcements that I have l lost one. Death has impacted my life so much that I am lost when I just think about anything else. The thought of it changes my life for the better and not for the worst. I feel so empty. Emptiness is where i feel the most useless and worthless in this world. How come I can’t get a break you may wonder. Well it’s because I been struggling with death my whole life.

     On July 4th blood rolled from his head and nose, As his friend in the car is gasping for air. All you hear is a loud siren noise heading towards the car. Reporting live from north philadelphia area. There are two men right now that was rushed to the hospital in cruidel conditions. I lost my favorite uncle in the whole wide world, this had a huge impact on how i live my life today. I really celebrate on the 4th of july just so that it feels like he is still here with me. He passed away on july 2 and his birthday was the 4th of july. I sat and cried and cried. Screaming and screaming as the family mourned all together. Thats my bestfriend I said to my dad as he than thought about how this would affect me the most. My dad just thought about how would the family work as one again because he was the life and the support of us. As we was watching the news that night, it appeared on the news channel:

   Reporting live from the scene where this car as hit a tree. The two men are in the hospital but we just got word that either one of them made it. Shawn Carter and Greg ford. My grandmother passed out and we couldn’t do anything but give her time to really think and process what happened in this moment. The doctors room was filled with puddles of water and heartbreak.

        We really enjoyed each other time and we loved to hang out as a family. This was one of my favorite things to do I just really enjoyed every moment with him. We spent basically every weekend together because I just loved being around him. I really just got stuck on what to write so that's all i can say right now. We use to have fight parties at my house. We would go out and celebrate on the 4th of july. We was always the party type. I love the way that my relationship is with him. He makes me so happy. We would go out to eat like every other weekend. I would think about all the good time every other weekend. We would go to Fridays every friday because that is my favorite place. I cried out. I really just loved when i seen him. He made me feel so happy. He was my favorite cousin. He was really the best. My family thought about how he was always the life of the party. When shawn came in that's when the party arrived. He would just make us all happy and thankful for living life to the fullest. We laughed as a family, we danced as a family, we even fought as a family but with when it was all said and done shawn was our rock and nobody in this world could change everything that he has did for us.

     This essay is hard for me to right because this is the most triggering spot in life. I really just think about this moment and these people everyday man. Everytime I think about this topic i get crushed and I feel like im a piece of cookies just crumbing to the ground. This topic is not something that I normally would express because i told myself that I would not keep letting people get into my personal life. But when the birthdays and the holidays come up I just can't stop thinking about them and everything they have ever did for me. I wish I could say i can’t wait for them to see me graduate. This has been a rocky road for me and I'm done with talking about this. I feel like my emotions are coming on very strong on i think about the goodness and what they have done for me over my life. If it wasn’t for the world and my family i don’t know where i would be today. This has been a emotional road but I am happy to say it is over and now I can move on and just think about how I know that he will always be here with me. I just think as for my family I have to be strong and I have to think about where my life can take me from here. This has been a very tuff topic for me and I hope you guys are all thankful for me sharing this.

When I first listened to Eminem It was my freshman year of highschool and before that I was never huge into rap. I had a small selection of random songs that I actually liked but none of it was rap. But In highschool that all changed for me when I got into rap. Its weird how it all worked out but I got into rapping before I even Got into listening to rap.   I've been rapping for all of highschool now and actually kind of took a break last year because the way the lunches were split up so most of high school. I even made a song and is still working on some more music, not as a serious career path but for fun and as a little bit as a hobby. Even though it isn't anything serious I still like to put it out there on social media and getting feedback from people. All the feedback has been positive which is great for me. The fact that i'm just playing around a bit is pretty big for me.

At lunch It was common for the upperclassmen to host rap battles and cyphers with each other.  I seeing one of my friends hanging with them decide to go over and listen and was asked to “spit”. This being my first time ever considering rapping.  I gave rapping a a try and rapped poorley not even reaching the status of sub par on a good day. Weeks passed and after many failed attempts at spitting something actually good or remotely close to fire, I kept trying. Eventually with each attempt getting a little better and better. I soon started to spit stuff that wasn't that bad and on some occasions pretty good.  To be honest I don't exactly remember how I ran across Eminem's music but I do know he's the first Lyricist i've listened to and at his first song I instantly liked it and had a huge respect for his craft.

Im 95% sure that the first song that I listened to made by Eminem was “The Real Slim Shady” which is still one of my favorite songs and a great one to work out to. After a week and a half to 2 weeks of listing (maybe longer) I somehow found Tupac's music which not only his music stuck with me but also his image and the persona that he made for himself. With his music was my first ever look of what's considered gangsta rap.  

I first started out with Eminem which whose lyricism   grew on me very quickly and opened me up to more rappers like Tupac, Biggie, Big L, Big Pun, and other rappers of the 90ś which was known as the gangsta rap era. I also like rappers of today with a old school style such as Hopsin.  And nonstop that's all I listened to and that's still for the most part all I listen to till this day. But the more that I listened to the songs of my favorite artist, the better o a rapper I became. I was able to get a flow together to most beats, I was able to come up with anything on the spot, and people have even said when I rap I have an old school flow. Listening to people who influenced me and practice taught me how to freestyle wich also helped freestyle savage become my brand.

Eminem’s music changed my taste in music and put me on to other rappers.

Also in freshman year I have to admit it wasn't my strongest year. Although I was adjusting to highschool I did it pretty fast. But I did more joking around that focusing on my work. I had a never stress go with the flow mentality so I did not stress about grades and how much work I turned in. I still have that mentality but now but I work harder and take more pride in my grades. I definitely try harder in school and did better and better each year. I am a harder worker than I use to be and a strong work ethic is something I strive to perfect as I follow the path of what I want to do as a profession

The changes that I have made throughout high school were mostly mental changes and also a bit maturity too. High school has had changes on me that I think will last a lifetime other than friendships. The high school experience has changed my way of thinking and perception even on music part about the rapping and rappers aspect this was how My high school year has changed y life. I was introduced to Rap in my freshman year of highschool and it as had a huge impact on me from then till now and years to come. So thats how my years of high school and its huge impact that it had on mehas changed my life.

My hands wrapped around the chilled handle as I pulled the heavy door open. When  I walked through, I realized I was finally in my soon-to-be high school.  Before I was in, my parents had to fill out the last little amounts of paperwork that would grant me my admittance. I was nervous, mainly because just a week ago I was surrounded by my friends I’d known since fourth grade. Maritime Academy, my old school in Northeast Philadelphia was relatively big. It was a traditional school, with textbooks and paper. We would only use computers for special occasions, or classes orientated around them. I knew that I wanted change, so I sought out Science Leadership Academy. My intuition lead me to these very doors. I was nervous, to the point where my stomach churned with every footstep I took.

“Hi, you have to sign in before heading upstairs,” said a woman dressed in a black uniform.

My mom nodded in agreeance and explained to the woman, that we had a meeting with the principal.  We were pointed to the elevator, and proceeded to go up. I could feel my stomach drop with anticipation as the elevator glided up to the second floor. There were kids laying across the floor, throwing balls and blasting music.

“What is this lunch? What are they feeding these kids? They're practically bouncing off the walls,” said my stepdad.

This lead us to all chuckle in sync to our shared confusion, but the laughter did not uplift my nervousness. Mainly now, because I didn’t know where I would fit in this social atmosphere. I was invisible, as we passed through the hallway. It was a narrow yellow hallway, but somehow broad enough to fit every student possible. The hallway to the office was a straight route, but we somehow found ourselves making twists and turns to avoid the bodies that were in the way. Everyone seemed like they knew where they belonged, and how everything worked even though they all looked like freshmen just like me. Similar to Murph and Bartle, my world was changing right before me. The only difference, was they were going into the unknown of war and I was entering my first year of high school.  Although now I reflect, and although it may sound exaggerated to me it felt exactly the same. Time seemed to go slow, but we finally made it and were greeted by two men. One was relatively casual, dressed in a button up shirt and jeans. The other man was dressed in a suit. They were the complete opposite of each other. My parents filled out the paperwork, we shook their hands, and then left. I  was now a student at Science Leadership Academy.

…

Summer was finally over, and so was freshman year. I was excited for a new start. It seemed like the year before went completely over my head. I was excited at the thought of being surrounded by a new class of people, and new teachers. I met my boyfriend upstairs and was greeted by my friends from last year.

“Did you hear about what happened this summer?”

I was pulled aside, and was told of all the fresh gossip that would make me up to date with all the current affairs at school. The whispers of unknown truths and lies filled my ears and my jaw opened in disbelief. I was so into what was being said, I hadn’t noticed my boyfriend, Jahmar, had walked away in frustration. I had let my friends know I’d be back, and went to find him. When I finally did, he was by the huge windows on the third floor. His back was against the cool blue lockers, in which truth be told needed some remodeling. The light from the windows over casted the whole hallway, making it nice and warm from the sun.

“What’d I do now?”

“Nothing, I just don’t like the fact that your supposed friends always bring you into drama. It’s not good, because it’ll distract you from why you’re really here. You remember last year?”

I nodded in agreement, and suddenly all my mistakes from freshman year flashed before my eyes.

“You were so focused on making friends and fitting in, your grades weren’t the best. You know you can do better,” he said with a slight frown on his face.

I knew it was time to focus on bettering myself as a whole, but what about my friends. Were they really my friends? I nodded it off, gave him a hug and we went our separate ways, class was about to start. As I headed to class, I was stopped again. This time it was casual conversation, from a group of girls I hadn’t talked to all summer. We exchanged numbers and talked about everything we heard so far about the people in our grade.

“Did you hear that she had like four boyfriends this summer?” Said one girl.

“That’s disgusting, she needs a thorough cleaning.”

I stood there, stunned by the fact they were talking about their own friend. By the time the conversation was over I was fifteen minutes late to class. I didn’t care though, there was too much to be talked about, and too many people to talk to. So I slowly made my way to Biochem.

As soon as my foot touched the other side of the door frame, I was welcomed with an angry tone.

“Oh nice of you to join us, we picked seats but since you were late you were assigned one.”

She pointed to a chair in the front of the class. I couldn’t do nothing but roll my eyes, and trudge my way to my seat. I pulled out my notebook, and got through all the first day of school antics.

The next day, before school my boyfriend and I went to get breakfast from Arch Gourmet. It was basically the hangout for science leadership students. It was so bad, that the principal literally had to come everyday to pull students out for school. Once we got our food we headed across the small street, and into the two glass doors of the school. We went our separate ways, when I finally reached the fifth floor I let out an exasperated sigh.

“Were you talking about me?” Said a voice from behind.

“No, who told you that?”

“Don’t worry about it, and don’t have my name come out of your mouth.” She was so loud, it seemed like almost on purpose. Everybody stopped to watch. I heard low chuckles and conversations, obviously about what was going on. She walked away with an agitated grunt, and went back into her class. It was like she was waiting for me, but at the same time she came out of nowhere. I was confused but, I continued on heading to class. When I got to class, I texted Jahmar to tell him what happened.

It’s like she came out of nowhere and knew where I was like it was planned. The other day her own friends were talking about her, I just was around them. Somebody in that group had to have said something to cover their own butt. It makes no sense.

He replied quick, almost if he knew I was in distress.

You just need to think about who you’re around, and who really is your friends. They were all probably talking about you too. You never know.

Those last three words stuck to me, every time the same group of girls came up to me to say hi. From that point on, I was fine being by myself. I realized trying to make peace with everyone in school I in a way lost myself. Before coming to SLA I was passionate about drawing and my work, but when I only thought about the social aspect of school it slowed me down. It went from me doing my work or drawing occasionally to not at all. Days went on, I started to only worry about me and my boyfriend. At lunch, instead of being energetic and practically running around the school, I sat and did my work. It became a routine, and I finally came to the conclusion that it was okay.

Having this experience made me okay with being in tune with myself. Before, especially during freshman year and sophomore year I wasn’t. I think when you hear about high school or see it on TV. They focus mainly on the social part. Compared to the complete dynamic of school as a whole. When I first heard of SLA, I thought the school was the absolute perfect fit. When I came to tour I saw everyone getting along, it was a friendly and free atmosphere. Kids were in groups, wandering the halls and blasting music.When I finally did come to the school, I was ultimately alone. I wasn’t okay with that, so I tried to fit in with everybody. I Came to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be able to please everyone and drama would occur somewhere down the line. The social norms of highschool doesn’t really fit everyone. There’s is more to it compared to the polished ideal in myself and others head.

Developing as a person requires openness. Being open about certain things will help people develop their habits throughout their life, developing character in the long run. But something that we need to take into account is that not all people are the same. Hiding certain beliefs or just keeping secrets from one another is known to be a common thing from any age. As humans we observe many characteristics in people. The way they greet you, look at you, help you and how they are involved in your daily life. Us, being humans keep secrets from one another thinking that it would solve the troubles we go through. I’m not saying that keep secrets from a loved one, a friend or someone important in your life is necessarily good, but it helps slow down the pain in the beginning.

From personal experience I can account for how keeping a certain secret made a significant impact on my life. It was my 5th grade year in middle school. Being 10 years old, I was ignorant about many things, but still willing to try and understand. I was a very social kid, in and outside of school. I was willing to make friends wherever I went and help others. But I hadn’t known the feeling of emotional damage. He was the new kid in town, named Justin. He was very quiet but still had that “I’m tough” look on his face whenever he sat down during class. At first, I was intimidated by him, I thought to myself “Should I say hi? He is a new student after all.” It was time to go to lunch, we had just been taught some mind boggling fractions in math class, I know right?! I went over to Justin, since he was two students away from me in the lunch line and I said, “Hey, nice to meet you my names Sean!” With a big smile on my face. Justin replied with a relaxed but yet insensitive tone, “Sup.” I thought to myself, “Well I guess he really doesn’t want to talk...I’ll just go get my lunch and talk to my other friends.” “Uh...I’m going to go get lunch.” I replied as I tried to make our quick conversation less awkward, walking away in embarrassment.  

Once I got my school pizza, something that all middle schoolers dream about getting, that fresh five star school lunch quality, I sat down next to my other friends in my class as we began to talk about what games to play after school. Time flew very fast and it was time for recess! We quickly lined up to go outside in the warm sunny weather, it was the start of the school year after all. I walked in a group of friends as we reached the light that was outside. I’m not kidding, when our vice principal opened the door, it was really bright! But it was probably because of how bad our school lighting was. We all rushed outside screaming in excitement, to have forty-five minutes of freedom. As I traveled in the group of my friends, that was when I saw Justin all by himself. I went over to him and I invited him to play dodgeball with us and he accepted. I thought to myself, “Cool! Now we can be friends.”

Once we began the game of dodgeball, my favorite sport next to swimming, Justin gave me an intense look. A look that to this date, I cannot forget. It screamed “You’re going down.” I was very intimidated but I didn’t think too much of it in that moment. We started throwing the “spherical orbs of death” as I liked to call it, at one another. Justin came out of nowhere and throw two dodgeballs at me, and not on the arm. One hit me directly on the face while the other one collided into my left ear. The pain was a sting, a burn, a bad feeling. I immediately stopped the game and screamed at him, “What’s wrong with you?!” Soon after my eruption, the vice principal came over and assed the situation. He took Justin out of the game, to the office. My group of friends came over to make sure I was okay, I said “Yeah...I’m fine.” I walked away from the group and sat in the corner of the playground waiting for class to start back up again. Class resumed and the school day was regular as always, except that I had a gloomy look on my face until the school day ended. One thing I noticed during class was that Justin wasn’t there anymore. “I know what happened to him...He probably got expelled!” I thought to myself, smiling…”That’s what he gets.” I continued thinking about the severe punishments he can get. The school day ended, my father came to pick me up and we went home.

Although the school day ended, the actual day didn’t end. My father asked me if anything interesting happened at school as he handed me my sandwich since school lunch really didn’t satisfy my lunch. I told him, “No, same old, same old.” But being my father he knew something was up, and I knew that he knew. So I tried to look away from him whenever he tried to see my face. He saw a bruise on my face and asked me “What the hell happened?!” As rage consumed his eyes. I told him that I feel during recess and tried to laugh it off as I covered my tears. My father replied with a reassuring “Alright. But be more careful next time.” I responded with a “You got it!” trying to make myself seem fine so my dad doesn’t find anything suspicious.

The next day, I had school...Again! I know right? Five times a week for an entire year...Yeah tell me about it. My friends greeted me with big smiles as I waited outside the gate with my dad waiting for the school doors to open. “I really hope that kid Justin isn’t here…” I thought to myself, as my worried eyes spoke for me when my friends looked at my gloomy face. “Good morning!” The principle shouted. “Have a good day, Son.” my dad told me as he kissed my head and patted me on the back, “See you soon” I said as I tried to force a smile out of my resisting body. I walked up the mountainous steps for a 10 year old, to the auditorium. Just to be greeted by the vice principal and next to him, Justin. “Justin would like to say something to you, Sean.” The vice principal said to me in a firm manner as Justin looked at me, teary eyed. “I’m sorry about yesterday, Sean. I got too aggressive when we were playing.” “Oh, it’s okay! Let’s be friends, right?” I asked Justin as my day felt like it was beginning to shine once again. “Yeah! That would be cool.” Justin responded as we shook hands and walked to our classroom.

The day presume, regular classes, regular me. Once recess approached, I asked Justin if he wanted to play tag with my friends and me. He replied, “Yeah, I love tag dude!” “Ha! Me too.” I said smiling as I reached out for a high-five. He rose his left hand up high, to what I thought was a high-five coming back at me...But it wasn’t. He slapped me across my left cheek, causing a red mark to appear on my face. Once he had made contact with my face I immediately thought to myself, “This kids insane...I try to befriend him but he just wants to hurt me. No wonder he’s alone.” Tears quickly fell down my face, the pain was nostalgic. I looked at him, with rage and sorrow, uttering these words, “I hate you.” I’ve never actually said that to someone and meant it...But in that moment I knew I meant what I said. Justin looked back at me, cocky, grinning and heroic. He asked me “Oh, yeah? Well what are you going to do about it?” “Just wait…” I said, threatening him as I was hurt emotionally and physically.” I walked away, I walked to do the right thing. I tapped the vice principal on the shoulder as he patroles the playground. “Justin’s bullying me!” I said with anger, wiping my tears off my face, looking at the vice principal in the eye. Justin ran over to the principal nad I, exclaiming that he didn’t do anything “wrong.” The vice principal and I both knew he was in the wrong, due to his prior actions. The vice principal called my dad over to asses the issue for good.

Justin and I both walked to the office to resolve this issue. My dad walked in a couple minutes after, as our house was close to the school. “Sean? I knew something was going on!” My dad shouted in rage as he entered the office. I’ve never seen him this angry, but not at me...At Justin. “How could you do this to my son? I assumed that the vice principal had informed him of the bullying Justin had done to me. “All he wanted to was welcome you and be your friend!” He continued, Justin looked like he was going to cry, but he held back. “I-I’m sorry...I really am.” Justin muttered as a tear rolled down his face, onto the ground...Splashing like the ocean had dropped onto the dry ground of the Earth, expanding onto the cracks of the ground. “It’s okay, Justin.” I said quickly, before my father went off on a further rant. “I understand where you’re coming from.” I said when I really didn’t. “Just make sure to be kinder to others, because not everyone's tough as you!” I said laughing to bring some humor to the tension. “Dad, it’s okay, he’s learned his lesson.” I said to my dad to calm him down. “Alright Son.” “Thank you.” My dad said to the vice principal, as pulled me out of school early. We walked home, I didn’t want to look back at Justins face, but I did. I saw him crying, but I knew it was for the best, for him to learn his lesson and become a better person.

I’ve learned throughout the 16 years that I’ve been on this planet, that not everyone's the same but we all sometimes desire the same thing. That “desire is to seek help when we are on the needing end. Many people, like you and I, may go through strife once in awhile but the main question that rises is “How do we deal with it?”

 Have you heard of nonverbal learning disability? A nonverbal learning disability is a condition based on the brain that makes everything in life more difficult. People need to be tested to be diagnosed. The limitation is also called Right-hemisphere disorders. People with the learning disability have poor motor performance, poor vision, poor organizational skills, poor with personal space. People, with the learning disability, also have a hard time processing and reconciling nonverbal skills and sloppy handwriting. There is no cure for the learning disability but people who have it get accommodations, I have an IEP (individual learning plan) this gives me accommodations such as using a calculator because it is hard to remember basic math.  To be diagnosed with a Nonverbal learning disability you need to be tested by a psychologist. Who gives a standard IQ test. If the certain areas are low you are diagnosed with the learning disability.  When I was in kindergarten, I was tested, and the test found that I have a nonverbal learning disability. I was diagnosed at a young age which means that the issue was caught early. Now I am versatile, but I have a hard time remembering stuff, but when I remember the thing I remember that thing well, this means I struggle with math. I struggle with remembering specific steps and equations. I struggle with spelling test and vocabulary test because I just can not remember all the words. My handwriting has improved immensely, but I am sure past teachers in middle school would agree I had very sloppy writing. I find history to be my most active class because I remember a lot of history and when I remember something I Remember that fact very well.

   Many might know that I am athletic, yes I play hockey and recently quit baseball due to having pain in my elbow and enjoying hockey more. Many might not realize that baseball was hard for me because I had trouble seeing the baseball when hitting and also when fielding.  I played catcher, and the coach would make signs for different pitches, this was hard for me because I could not remember the signs and I had to write them on my arm because I could not remember the signs.

For many years I overcame this and played baseball. I play hockey full time out of school, meaning when I am not in school, I am usually at the rink. Hockey is a high-speed, intense and violent game. If you don’t play them with the right position, the puck will end up in the net for the other team. I have been playing hockey for seven years now, and I know the positioning by heart. But it did not start out that way. When I was first starting playing hockey, I was not playing at an elite level, and merely positioning did not matter because everyone sucks at hockey at a young age. When I started playing at an elite level, this changed. We as a team began to go over the positioning on a small whiteboard, and I struggled immensely with the positioning because I could not remember the correct positioning. In hockey one of the most basic, the winger (my position) job is to get the puck out of the zone at all cost because you don’t want the other team to score. The first thing you do is skate to the hash marks on the left or right side. The second thing you do is pass to the player who is playing the passion center. I Know this might seem simple, but I struggled with doing a breakout for a long time. The hockey puck unpredictable, you never know what bounce or turn the frozen piece of rubber will take. The hockey puck plus my vision sometimes does not make a good match because sometimes I can’t see or predict where the puck is going to go.   

   I got to give credit to my hockey old coach who helped me with this; my old coach would take his time to explain everything and make sure I understood everything. If I made a mistake my coach would not be mad he would again make sure I got everything down. My coach would state “ I don’t care if your mistakes, just make sure you try and skate hard.” I give credit to him for helping me with hockey. My old hockey coach is probably the only reason I am still playing today because he gave me confidence and the skills needed to be good at ice hockey.

 I have a learning disability, and I accept that I have learned that having a learning disability doesn't define me as a person. I have proven that if you have a disability, you can still live your life. I have exceeded the expectations placed on me. Playing both sports took time and patience, but I have overcome my learning disability to play both ice hockey and baseball. I also realize that things take time; you need to be patient, and the right things will happen. You can’t be perfect at something at first, when you first attempt then you may struggle;  Things take time. The more you practice, the better you get. Although there is no cure for this, I have become well versed in navigating the world and finding ways to manage.