Toxic Masculinity--Kylie

Throughout history women have faced constant oppression from men in every aspect of life. Although some may argue that today, women have come a long way in fighting this struggle but it’s become obvious that there is still a lingering sense of tension between the sexes. This tension is exemplified through toxic masculinity. Toxic masculinity has not been officially defined in Webster’s Dictionary, however many have come to define it on their own. For example, tolerance.org states, “Toxic masculinity is a narrow and repressive description of manhood, designating manhood as defined by violence, sex, status and aggression. It’s the cultural ideal of manliness, where strength is everything while emotions are a weakness; where sex and brutality are yardsticks by which men are measured...” The more popular website, Urban Dictionary, defines it as, “exaggerated masculine traits like being violent, unemotional, sexually aggressive, and so forth. Also suggests that men who act too emotional or maybe aren’t violent enough or don’t do all of the things that “real men” do, can get their “man card” taken away.” Like all humans, men struggle constantly with the pressures of fitting into social norms and to do “what everyone else is doing.” As a society, we cannot continue to put these pressures on men because the effects are not just toxic to other men themselves, but to women also. Toxic masculinity, on many occasions, teaches men that crying or expressing emotions is a sign of weakness or makes you less of a man, its toxicity displayed as instead of sharing, or seeking help, they bottle things up and try to act “tough” placing an immense amount of stress on their mental health. This issue can even be as extreme as being the leading cause of rape. Obviously

this is no excuse for rapists, however, the more we continue to support this behavior, the longer this line of toxic masculinity will continue.
Another example of toxic masculinity can be seen between fathers and their daughters. By pressuring their daughters into fitting this stereotype for women that has been the same for decades, they are only pushing them away. When daughters bring attention to the frustration and pressures that are caused by their fathers, they mainly tend to brush off those feelings and disregard them, as they do their own. Men commonly use the term “hysterical” to describe women. Hysterical originated from the Greek word hysterika, which literally means Uterus. They believed that women could have womb defects which caused physical and psychological symptoms of distress which was why they called women hysterical. This could also be the reason behind the cultural idea that women are just less capable of being as reasonable as men, this mindset is a core example of toxic masculinity. I encourage women to help put a stop to the long line of toxic masculinity by encouraging men to share their feelings and being cooperative in relationships. By this I mean, don’t tiptoe around trying to please them, stop letting them be the know it all that they think they are, be the strong, independent, badasses that we have come to be. Men, I encourage you to cry a little more, care a little more, and find ways to better control your anger. Don’t allow your “buddies” to control what you do or what you say because you could potentially ruin important relationships in your life. Toxic masculinity has more recently come to the attention of today’s society and needs to be addressed. The first step in making a difference, is to acknowledge that it is relevant and from here we work towards ending this outdated issue.

Artistic Journey--Jackie

When I lived in Camarillo, California at age five, my mother took me to my first art lesson in hopes of discovering something that I would be interested in. At the time, we were lower economic class, as my mother was still trying to figure out her life and secure a stable job after immigrating from China to the U.S., so money was tight, and with art classes being expensive, formal schooling in the arts was a luxury we could barely afford to keep. However, my mother always made sure to provide me with as many opportunities as she could; she struggled through long days to make wages to support me and my ambitions, and when we saved enough money to move to a better area of Southern California, we moved from Camarillo to Rancho Cucamonga, where I enrolled in classes at KidsArt Studio for several years thereafter. It was here where I met my art teachers, Paul and Filomena Perez, who taught me virtually everything I know about formal art and technique. They were alongside me every step of the way in my journey to learn more about the arts, and I blossomed from a naive little girl with no grasp on artistic techniques whatsoever to a mature young woman who amassed years of knowledge about art to produce ethereal works. I studied how to use pastels, watercolor, acrylic, and finally oil paint for many years, and when I finished the standard curriculum set by my studio, I was free to choose which medium I preferred to work with. Not only did I paint landscapes, but I created still-lifes, cartoons, animals, and emulations of famous Impressionists’ art, specifically Camille

Pissarro, in my master artist study program. I became entranced with the way Pissarro used pointillism and seemingly carefree brush strokes to produce the impression of landscapes, and I desired to study his works more deeply. Thus, I attempted to learn and emulate Pissarro’s style and apply it to my own works. Pissarro’s works were my muse, and I viewed him almost as a father figure and a guiding hand along my pathway to knowledge about Impressionism.
Freshmen year of high school, my beloved art teachers moved to Chicago to continue their studies in a master program at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago Visiting Artists Program. Concurrently, I was becoming increasingly busy as I progressed through high school, and these circumstances led me to decide to discontinue studying at KidsArt and work independently at home as a freelance artist. For the next three years, I produced oil paintings at home with a newfound goal in mind: I wanted to do something to give back to my hometown in China, where my roots were. My parents and I planned to host my own art exhibition in Luoyang, Henan, China, where they were born and raised. So, throughout the following three years, I worked day after day to finish over 35 oil paintings, which were shipped to China each summer for my father to store and prepare for my exhibition. The summer of 2018 finally approached, and it was truly an indescribable feeling of euphoria to see my works be showcased in a beautiful gallery, and I was in awe for the most part of this past summer. I couldn’t believe that I had such an amazing opportunity to host my very own art show at 16 years old, and at the conclusion of my three-day show, I auctioned off almost all of my works and raised 40,000 RMB (approximately $6,000) to donate to two local elementary schools! I was even featured in the local newspapers and interviewed by the television station of Luoyang. In this way, I did what I could to pay my respects to my hometown. I saw how young girls were treated still to this day in

the countryside of my hometown: married off once they become teenagers to bear sons for their husbands and never to enjoy the feeling of learning and the opportunities that education brings in attempts to uplift their quality of life. I feel extremely blessed and grateful for all the opportunities I have here in the States, and I wanted to help ameliorate the conditions of the local education systems with more funds to acquire resources to better educate children in the rural areas. Hosting my own art show was not only an incredibly developing and eye-opening experience for me as an artist, but one filled with joy in seeing how my works have been spread to my family and friends in China and a chance for me to do something worthwhile for others through something that I love to do.

How to be a great performer (in dance)--Toby

How to be a great performer(in dance)
Dance is a beautiful,yet misunderstood form of art that many enjoy for entertainment, but aren’t knowledgeable of the intricacies implemented into the performance as a whole. The audience only knows that they are impressed by what is put on stage, however they don’t know how to explain why and how specific pieces attract them. Well I am about to go step by step of how a dancer lures their audience in. 

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1.)Going full out and trying your best
Though many talents revolving around dance, such as flexibility and ones capability to pick up choreography and moves quick, come naturally to some, if they don’t use it and work harder to maintain that talent, they are going to get left behind in the dust while others, who constantly practice and work day and night, pass them up. I remember I was always known to be naturally flexible though I had never taken stretching classes before that, yet when most of my friends started taking technique classes that required that type of ability, they would stretch anytime they could and they had surpassed me and I felt that my limberness had gone to waste. But, once I found a love for styles like ballet, jazz, and contemporary, I fell into the routine of working everyday to further my abilities and

talents as many of my friends had before me like it was muscle memory. And within a few months I had developed so much more as a dancer because I was consistent with putting in all my effort and energy into growing as a performer. As a dancer it is necessary that you give your all because when you don’t you just stay where you’re at instead of learning more, accomplishing more, and setting even higher stakes for yourself. You get caught in a bubble because you’re capable of only doing so much. 

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/39/a2/1e/39a21e78eaeb18638847d2d2924ba766--encouragem ent-studio-ideas.jpg
2.) Facial expressions
In order to create a story and to portray what you’re trying to get across, without facial expressions that can’t happen. And what’s more important is that the feelings that you create with your look and face, is genuine and not overdone because when you’re over the top it takes away from the purpose of the piece. When I was in competition dance during my elementary and middle school years, I first started out only focusing on the dance moves themself and that was it. I never realized how important it was to feel how the music made me feel and to share what my choreographer had in mind for the dance. However, once I entered high school and I became a choreographer I finally acknowledged the significant change emotions made when trying to produce a story through dance; it completed my personal narrative. It is essential that you have facial expressions because without them the piece will just be a piece with dance moves that have no meaning and your message will not get across according to your plan.

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3.) Technicalities (musicality and dynamic)
The steps I mentioned previously to this one are important to attain, however understanding the technicalities of dance and implementing them into choreography and the way you perform is just as necessary. First, musicality can be defined as understanding where the movement is placed within the music. Going according to the basic counts of 8 is boring, but once you create different relationships between the music and the dance, the audience is more satisfied with how well the performers are able to use the smallest intricacies in the music and how synchronised they are because they all know when to do a specific dance move at a specific time. On the other hand, utilizing dynamic as a tool in style of dancing makes the performance more unique with it’s different textures and levels of energy and the height of movement. The saying that “ less is more” does apply in dance because it is referring to texture. With dynamic a dance isn’t monotone and changes how a dancer’s shape of movement is executed.
https://youtu.be/HOSmGnDN3xk
This link is a video of a group called the kinjaz who use musicality and dynamic very well in their choreography
4.) Individuality
The last step to becoming a better performer is understanding yourself as an artist and what your speciality is as a dancer. Without something unique or that sets you apart from the rest of the dance crowd, you won’t be chosen or noticed within the very competitive world of dance. A very good example of this is my friend and fellow dance team mate,Ethan. If he were to audition against other dancers he could use his talent of tutting to get the attention of those holding the auditions because he knows a style and has practiced it for quite some time that is very difficult to incorporate in improv, yet it’s

so entertaining. He is comfortable with what makes him different and is confident to showcase it when he needs to. If you don’t know yourself and what compliments you, it will show in your in your movement of uncertainty or lack of comfort.
https://youtu.be/_znIgo5xTaE
The link is of a dancer who may not dance the prettiest, but has a creepy yet intriguing style of dance that expresses her special form of art and it impresses the judges.

The Life Journey--Avel

To me, breakdance is, first and foremost, an art. I spend hours in the studio, creating unprecedented, unique movements to stand out among other dancers and discover new manifestations of my body and soul. After all these years, people recognize me because of my original style, and when dancers from other cities and countries ask me for advice, I'm happy to share my knowledge, and I'm incredibly grateful to be part of hip-hop culture.

I had the opportunity to use my talent successfully in a lot of different ways. For the most part, I showcased my talent in world and national championships and dance battles, in which I earned more than 50 awards in solo competitions as well as in team competitions, including multiple 1st place awards nationally and regionally.

I grew up in a small town in southern Russia, where people don't always have the

opportunity to achieve their goals.

At eight-years-old, I created my first team called “Super Boys,” and years later, I became a member of one of the best teams in my home country, Russia,
called “Refresh Crew.”
One of the most difficult problems I encountered as Refresh Crew’s leader was to organize and host a breakdance championship-competition. Here, I gained leadership and management experience through holding meetings with local authorities, searching for sponsors, renting the venue, and inviting guests such as judges, DJs, and MCs from across Russia, all at the age of 14.
world championship “Yalta Summer Jam 2014” (Yalta, Russia) and the world championship “Battle of Styles 2014” (Vladimir, Russia).

In Stavropol, my team (Refresh Crew) and I were performing at almost

every event, including in downtown, at restaurants, for holiday celebrations in malls, and much

more, and that’s how we became recognized by public. Because of our experience, we made a

trustful and popular name for ourselves, and even the mayor of our city and neighboring cities

were inviting us to perform at government events and in city hall. I went on to eventually

become a leader of Refresh Crew, and gained valuable experiences and persevered through

struggles.

Personally, I was hired by a local dance studio at 14, where I started teaching people how

to dance and receiving my first real, self-earned money. Often, I was going to orphanages to

present my workshops for kids there, as my father owned a charity called Helping Hand, which I

often volunteered at. I always longed to become a person who my parents would be proud of,

and in 2014, after 6 year of practice, my dream became a reality: I triumphed as the champion in

two world competitions for youth dancers: the

I still

remember the overwhelming support and pride of my family and team, and this moment inspired

me to never stop dancing.

There were also special experiences I had, such as performing at the closing ceremony of the Winter Paralympic Games 2014 in Sochi, Russia with a group of the best dancers from all across Russia. For 5 years, me and my team “Refresh Crew” were sponsored by the largest oil

company in Europe and Turkey - Gazprom. The company sponsored my team, paid for all our expenses to travel around Russia and compete at monumental competitions, and through these experiences, I made some of my most interesting and genuinely fun memories with my team and the new people I met along the way. I felt so honored to be sponsored by the richest company in Russia, and the opportunities they provided my team and I allowed me to grow as a dancer.
I also had the experience of playing the lead character in the play "The Star Child" by Oscar Wilde at the local theatre in my city, Stavropol, in which I mixed my dancing skills with acting skills. In 2016, I decided to move out from my parents’ house to the capital of Russia because of better educational opportunities in Moscow, and there, I opened my very own dance studio with more than 20 students. I found and rented the place, figured out all the legal and financial requirements for opening the studio, and advertised it in a new city that I’d never lived in before. This is one of my most significant achievements, and I created indelible bonds with my students here. Later on, I was honored to be a part of a team of 10 of the best dancers in Russia to represent the southern half of Russia called “South Team” in the main competition between southern and northern Russian dancers called the “V1 battle” in Saint Petersburg. Here, there were no winners or losers, but rather was an exhibition of talent from each half of the country, in which I was called multiple times to showcase my skill. In that same year, I visited the U.S. for the first time with my family, and my younger brother and I took 1st place at a competition in Fresno, California called “Mp Boy Jam 2016.” Also, in 2017, I won one more competition during my second trip to the U.S. known as “Galactic Zone 2017.” After one month in the States, I returned back to Russia and placed 5th place in the national rank for the Youth Olympic Games 2018 for Breakdance for the Russian Federation. I had continued to compete in the Games, but unfortunately had to discontinue because of problems between my parents, which ultimately led to mother’s decision move and start a new life in the U.S., so I could not compete, but I will continue to search for and participate in similar opportunities in the future.

Teenagers nowadays cannot simply be themselves due to the influence of public opinion as a paramount measurement of our lives; social networks force us to imitate imposed ideals. However, I do not let these hindrances staunch my journey of self-expression, and regardless of these encumbrances, I articulate myself through dancing; being a dancer with more than a decade of experience, I cannot imagine my life without a constant attempt to achieve a full disclosure of my creative potential.

Regardless of possible roadblocks and setbacks, I passionately continue to

dance and express myself in every creative way I desire, and I hope to find more opportunities in

college where I can make an even bigger impact!

Special Olympics--Serina

On July 27, 2018 I volunteered as I do every year with my family for the special
olympics which is held at Cal State Long Beach. The Special Olympics is an event for those with mental, physical, and learning disabilities to participate in different sporting events. My family and I have been going ever since 2010 with my dad’s job, Frito Lay. On this Friday morning I remember when my family and I arrived there was a slight overcast and it was very humid. As we started to unload the car we grabbed the boxes of chips as well as the mascot costume ,Chester the Cheetah, as we were unloading the car we saw all of the competitors arriving with big similes on all of their faces and waving to us. When I saw all of these young adults excited to be there to compete i could not help but get be just as excited as they were to be there. After we unloaded the car my family and I made our way to the Frito Lay booth which was surrounded by many others and started to set up the beanbag game toss station as well as the facepaint area. While I was doing that, my older brother, Matt, got into the Chester the Cheetah costume and got ready to walk around and take pictures with all that came to the event. At around 8:00 pm the sun was shining bright and it was warming up and tons of people were arriving and going to all the different booths and having fun gaining prizes, taking pictures, playing games, but most importantly going supporting the athletes. As I was walking around Chester the Cheetah many of the competitors were ecstatic to see “the Cheeto guy.” They would come up to him with big smiles and my

brother would give them hugs and high fives as they came up to him. Seeing how everyone was reacting to him gave me a feeling of happiness and I felt so fortunate to be there. And, after awhile of walking we would take a break and go to a sporting event and cheer on everyone competing. This past year particularly was even more special to me because my uncle,who has down syndrome, was participating in the basketball event. Seeing him and his teammates compete and show off their skills was so amazing to watch and it gave me such a great feeling that knowing everyone in the audience was there supporting all of them. It almost was a shock for me seeing all these people there in support for them because I have seen many people look down upon those who have a disability. Growing up with a special needs uncle many people do not understand what discrimination they go through and how people want to limit them because they think they can not comprehend anything. However, they are some of the most smartest and strongest people I know. From these events it also taught me how a community of people can come together and support everyone and teach us that we should not limit anyone because everyone is capable of anything. This event also has steered me to my path of wanting to give back to these wonderful people who have disabilities and become a special needs teacher to teach them that no matter what disability they have they can do amazing things.

"Normal" Days--Alexys

August 24, 2018
It was a normal day, just like any other... almost. First, I should explain that I have medical issues which cause me to have chronic neck and back pain, so my “normal” days are filled with the exhaustion of barring these physical pains all day and all night. Although, it isn’t alway unbearable, only sometimes, like August 24, 2018. On this day, I woke up with pain, of course, but it was slightly heightened. I didn’t think much of it, why would I? So, I got ready and went to school. By the time I walked down from the parking lot I could feel that the pain had intensified. My muscles were becoming overly inflamed and tight. I tried massaging my back but nothing could help at that point and I knew it would only get worse, so instead of going to first period I went straight to the nurse’s office. The nurse's assistant called my mom at work who gave me permission to go home. I had already decided that I couldn’t walk all the way to my car from the nurse’s office because when the pain gets so unbearable, like how it was, my legs weaken, it is hard for me to walk, I get a headache, I become nauseous because the pain is completely overwhelming, and I start to get dizzy. So, I decided to ask a security guard who was on the golf cart just outside the nurse’s office if he could give me a ride to my car because it was hard for me to walk and I wasn’t sure if I could make it there. I remember his careless, unconcerned response as clear as day: “I have something more important to do.” Then he drove off. I was left standing there, ready to collapse from the pain and trying to comprehend what he had just said to me. After realizing there were no other security guards around, I began my towering journey to the student parking lot. With each step I felt a striking pain up my back and down my legs. My eyesight was blurred by tears, my head pounded, my stomach turned, all while I was trying to keep my balance because I was so dizzy from hyperventilating. I walked on, terrified that I would faint at any given time and there would be no one to help me. I finally reached the stairs near the construction and dragged myself up them. At that point I knew I was going to pass out if I didn’t hurry and get to my car and it petrified me, so I tried walking a little faster. I was considering just laying down, in the middle of the parking lot, but I forced myself to keep walking. Then, I felt like the luckiest person alive. I saw a good friend of mine. Whether it was coincidence or fate, I really don’t care, I was just lucky that, of all days, he was late that day because if he hadn’t been, I don’t think I would have made it. He said hello and asked what was wrong, but before I could even finish asking for help walking to my car I collapsed onto the floor. Luckily he caught me and held my head so it wouldn’t hit the ground. He kept asking me what happened and what was wrong but all I could manage to say was a fractioned part of a sentence: “Back, my back, it’s my back.” I then heard a car pull up and a man get out and start asking “What happened? What happened?!” All my friend could say was that I collapsed, so the man immediately told him to call 911. Next, I hear a group of students coming, I knew them. At that point I had to put my full faith in the group of students who were there and the man who I never even saw the face of. I will forever be grateful for their kind help and quick thinking. One of the girls knew my sister, so she contacted her, which I am assuming is the one who told my parents what was going on. The next thing I knew a golf cart was pulling up with the nurse. The nurse annoyingly told everyone to leave me alone and said that I was fine because I was just in her office (clearly I was not fine). They sat me on the cart next to the same security guard who denied me help earlier. I’m not sure if my anger at seeing him caused me to hyperventilate more

or if I was just in more pain by being moved, but I started breathing a lot faster. If you have ever hyperventilated you will know that parts of your body will begin to tingle, your hearing becomes impaired, and you start losing your vision. This has happened to me before so I knew what was happening and I knew that I was going to black out if I did not get ahold of my breathing, but it was too late at that point. I had no control over my body, I was paralyzed and I relied solely on my friend to hold up my head, but the nurse yelled at him to let me go. She thought I was faking it and she kept asking me “Oh you want to play hardball?” Then, all of a sudden, I couldn’t breath at all. The nurse started slapping me in the face to wake me up but saw that wasn’t helping, so the split second before I passed out she cracked open something that woke me up. Soon after, a firetruck was there and paramedics were able to calm me down. They took care of me until my father arrived and drove me to the hospital. I don’t remember much after that.
This was an extremely significant day of my life because I realized that my medical condition can be immensely painful if left unchecked, so at that point on I knew that this was something I would have to manage for the rest of my life. That day I also learned that I need to have more faith in other people and I need to lean on others when I truly need help.

Abuelita--Leslie

Death might just be the scariest thing anyone has to endure. Dying sounds scary, however, knowing and anticipating death is even scarier. I sat confused in the hospital waiting room, where the smell of hand sanitizer, the grey walls, the faint sound of the TV, the cold hard uncomfortable leathered seats that feel like you’re sitting on a rock surrounded me. People praying, others eating, others crying, and some just staring with a lost look in their eyes making me feel even more numb than I already did. Chills ran through my body, imagining the worst as a gazillion of unanswered questions ran through my mind. I watched my family from the corner of my eye as they were huddled in a small circle conversing about my grandma’s situation and leaving me out of it, not wanting to let me know what they’re talking about. I felt absolutely isolated, I didn’t know what to do and what to think or how to react. A couple of hours passed when I watched the doctor walk up to my family. He looked down, he sighed, and he looked back up again. Why is he taking so long to say what he needed to say? He looked sorry. His mouth formed words but for some reason I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Everything was in slow motion as I watched the disgruntled looks on my family members faces, I watched as my grandpa broke down and ran to the elevator and threw himself on the ground. He angrily punched the floor and he looked up at the ceiling sobbing and screaming. My aunt took me to the cafeteria, I couldn’t speak because I was confused and in shock. When we went home my parents told me everything was fine but they lied. The doctors told everyone that there was nothing left to do, he couldn’t help my grandma. He asked everyone if they wanted him to take her off life support, they said no. I had to find out by eavesdropping on my mom’s phone call. Each time a word flew out of her mouth I felt like a part of me was slowly dying. Today, she has ALS and has been in the hospital for four years, she can’t leave. There is no cure whatsoever. Her nerves are slowly shutting, she can’t move her body anymore. She can’t talk and I would give up anything to hear her laugh again. She relies on a little machine to keep her alive, her life depends on technology. My grandma is my best friend and the fact that I can’t even remember what her voice sounds like pains me. A part of me is mad at my parents even after all of these years for keeping me in the dark. Another part of me is angry that I didn’t enjoy my time with her more, that I didn’t tell her I loved her more often, or that I never took the signs seriously. I should’ve listened when she said that she couldn’t feel her hands or when she would randomly fall because her legs would give up on her. My parents visit her every day for hours. I can’t bring myself to go though, of course I do visit her and I love seeing her but it hurts to see her like that. I’m not able to converse with her, she can’t eat, she can’t move, but her brain works perfectly fine. Visiting her makes all of this seem much more real and I don’t want it to. I just wish I could water her garden with her again and watch telenovelas together.

Untitled--Eric

I remember a time, four years ago exactly, when I found out I was adopted. And although this doesn’t help the case of an emotionally abused/unstable, 5’8 (at the time), african american boy whos happiness was clouded with thoughts that a child shouldn’t have, with hardly any friends in the first place along with no clear indications of anyone liking him; I remember feeling happy, as I looked over at my father eyes knowing in no way more than a document I was related to him. I’ve been through and seen some things many other children have too, yet for some reason I internalize everything about my childhood and can only come to the conclusion of how bad, sad and depressing it was, with an ignorant father somehow managed to multiply those feeling by 7x. Walking around with a smile 90% of times was complete bull as 15 minutes before we had gotten to our destination he was calling me a retard because my shoes were untied. Much of my current mindsets are based off of him and what to never do to anyone, let alone the people I care about.
For someone who’s done rocket science, his common sense level is lower than imagined. But besides all that, let’s get to the story.
Roughly a couple months later after finding out about said adoption, me and my dad had the weekend alone together cause my mom was going somewhere. Now although I was a 4.0 student, I definitely lacked in the memorization category. I forgot to do something at the time and my dad had another outburst, different than his usual. My father is a stupid donkey, and he has been my entire life. Time and time again he has consistently had outbursts that has hurt the family, at one point even causing me and my mom to stay in a hotel for a day. I’m not a person to tell all my business to people, but let’s just say the bad has outweighed the good for him in the past 17 years. There always seemed to be something he had to fuss about, or something that always wrong with the two of us. But as I said this one was different. His demeanor was calm and truthful, yet I call it outburst seeing as unnecessary yet clearly needed on his end this was.
He said: “You know, after 13 something years, I regret doing this. I personally shouldn’t have to deal with this. If it weren’t for you, I’d have been divorced your mother and I wouldn’t be here or we wouldn’t have these issues revolving around you. Time and time again you continuously haven’t made my life easier and you can never do the simple things almost as if you’re an idiot. I’m (something something) years old, I shouldn’t have to go through this. I thought you’d be a blessing but... I regret it. I wish we never had adopted you.”
As I walked back into my room and sat in my chair, a lot of things ran threw my mind, but the last thing I said I would do is be hurt again over something he’s said. “Why did he say that? Am I that much of a mistake? Not even my own dad wants me? Why adopt something you don’t want in the first place?” And after all those questions, a sense of euphoria came over me as he slammed the door leaving me in the house alone for a bit. As much as I had hated being alone, for some reason I hated his presence even more at that point. Beyond everything that occured I was still smart enough to say to myself “people show their true colors when they’ve reached a limit, his was clearly 13 years.” Though we’ve moved on from that point as my mom has never

known of this incident, an apology I never accepted, and a fake “love you pops” every now and then, I still hold a huge amount of resentment in my heart. I will forever know that deep down, now the 17th year, he wishes I was never in his life. He’s shown many times that he hasn’t cared about how we feel, besides doing the simple stuff that a “man” should yet barely putting money on the table sometimes isn’t enough... at least for my retarded ass. Ironically though, of course in its own subtle fashion going on my 12th year, I’ve felt the exact same way.

How To Coach A Basketball Team--Luke

How To Coach A Basketball Team
Recently I have undertaken the obligation to coach my teenage brother’s basketball team. My former middle school’s varsity team needed a coach for a team no one bothered to lead. The coaching interview process had been anything but grueling, waiting for the school’s athletic director to accept my proposition only minutes after I entered into her classroom. Following those several minutes, she then assumed all responsibility for a team that had only won a single game in the last three years upon me.
Materials:

• -  Basketball court
  
• -  5 Basketballs
  
• -  5 to 10 players
  
• -  10 Cones
  *Optional
  - Patience
  Step 1: Assess every player
  Within the first week prioritize team scrimmages. This will give you the ability to analyze every player’s skill during these early practices. Scrimmages are also beneficial to categorize players into varying positions on offense and defense. 
  
  
  
  
  Step 2: Create a practice agenda
  Similar to most routines there must be a time set for each and every drill that a coach will want to use during practice. Formulating a pattern with players consisting of when and how long a drill should last will allow for more orderly practices to occur. 
  
  
  
  

Step 3: Build upon fundamentals
Utilizing practice drills that focus on teaching the basic concepts of basketball should be priority number one. Following the principal training, assemble advance drills that will challenge every player’s ability. 

Step 4: Implement an Offensive and Defensive system
An important aspect of being a coach is finding the best fit for all of the team’s players. Maintaining order during games with rules and options for players to follow will give them the greatest opportunity to excel. Therefore, executing a simple system will allow the players to increase their own feel for the game as well as expand their Basketball IQ. 

Step 5: Instill the concept of Teamwork
Creating a brotherhood and bond with each and every player will prove fruitful. Having the respect of every player will allow them to play at their best when you want to create adjustments. Furthermore, developing an atmosphere in which the team trust each other elevates chemistry during games. 

Step 6: Promote Sportsmanship
Wins and Losses will occur; therefore, as a coach remind players that they must control their emotions and sustain their efforts. Within games, situations may go against your team but they must know to disregard these obstacles and continuously play as you want them to. 

Tip: Always maintain your patience. The players will test your limits each and every practice, for that reason utilize your authoritarian power to run the team whenever necessary.