Poetry: Desires

I desire peace.
I desire understanding.
I desire straight forward communication.
But we don’t always get what we desire.
There are many factors at play and any misstep?
Leads to worse consequences than no step.
That’s what I believe, anyway.
So, here I am, unmoving.

I like watching chess.
I can see the expressions in the eyes of the players,
the shake in the fingers as complex plans are executed.
It’s a dance, a battle.
A movement creates a reaction.
Reactions tumble.
I desire this. To see it.
I like knowing how to move.
Make me player two.

Let me be the reeds across the water.
I can move with the breeze.
Any movement is fine, I bend.
Hot or chill?
Heck, it can even be shrill.
I want it to move me.
Show me what to do.

But I see the deer.
My contemplations come to an end.
Far across the field and it’s staring at the sun.
Do I raise my gun or walk?
I cannot tell if she’s gravid from such a distance.
I raise my gun to the sun and stand there
Blinding myself.
I don’t know how to make the choice.

I wish
I wish I knew what to do.
That’s what I desire.

An Email Unsent

My school newspaper,

Now, I don’t view myself as an uptight person but upon reading the Friday edition of the newspaper, I have a lot of concerns that need to be addressed. As a published newspaper, when an article is written it needs to be accurate and represent the situation fairly– especially when the article is the one on the front cover.

The article I am referring to is the one written about the alcohol policy in the residence halls. Keep in mind that the hall policy and procedures works with the Student Code of Conduct and all local, state, and federal laws so very little is repeated that is already mentioned at any of the other sources.

1. The policy regarding alcohol is misrepresented twice in the article.

a) The first time the article states that an underaged person cannot be present while someone of age is drinking in the of-aged’s room. This is false statement– in the residence halls, a resident’s room is considered their private space so as long as they are following the law, they may engage as they please. As long as the underage resident is not drinking with the of-age resident, the of-age resident is free to drink in their own room. It should be mentioned however, that if such a situation is found, the underage student will be breathalyzed by a police officer to ensure that underage drinking was not occurring but this does not mean either student is in trouble for socializing or hanging out with alcohol present. This is, of course, underage drinking was taking place.

b) The second time the article states that an of-aged resident cannot have alcohol in their room if their roommate is underaged. Again, a false statement for many of the reasons that the first statement was wrong. As an example, parents are allowed to have alcohol in their house and drink it at their leisure while their children are under age. The law rests the burden on the underaged student to not engage in unlawful activities– not in the of-aged participants ensuring that underaged access is minimized.

2. In the colloquial sense, calling the residence halls a ‘dorm’ is acceptable but in a formalized setting such as a newspaper that represents our University, this word should be discarded for the one that residence life and dining services (RLDS) has stated is the official term to utilize: residence hall or hall for short. This change of word choice is important to showcase what values RLDS has in mind when discussing the living situation of students on campus: the halls are a place to build community and integrate into the college life– not just a place to sleep. If you want to call the halls 'dorm’ while talking with others, go for it– I’m not here to police your jargon.
Do not do so in an article.

3. The first statement in the article states that our campus has changed the policies for on campus living to allow drinking. This statement is very misguided since really, the policies have only changed in the on campus apartments so residents may drink in common spaces in their apartment instead of just their rooms. Regarding the halls, the policy that is in place currently is the one that was in affect in the upperclassmen hall. When RLDS made the decision to shut down that hall, they transferred this policy to the freshmen residence halls for the upperclassmen that could no longer choose to live in an upperclassmen hall but would still like to live in the halls. This issue is not as major of a concern but since I’m already writing to you about the article, I figured that I may as well include this too.

4. If you are going to write an article about the policies in the halls, interview at least one RA (resident assistant), RC (residence coordinator), AD (assistant or associate director), custodian or maintenance staff worker, RHA (residence hall association) member, or someone who works in RLDS. List of people interviewed: two past residents and 2 underage residents. This one-sidedness in the sources is most likely a reason that this article had so many issues– a person who understands the policies was not spoken to in order to have a better understanding of the situation. In addition, because of the sources used and the ones blatantly not used, a certain tone regarding hall policies and policy enforcement seeped into the article to showcase RLDS and RAs in a negatory light. When it comes to hall policies, RAs are not watch dogs: they are students employed by the University whose job consists of student advocacy and safety. When issues arise, it is on the students to inform RAs of the situation so that it can be dealt with– the job does not involve scouring the hall to find violations and reasons to call the police. It is a much larger concern that students are handling the transition from high school to college in a healthy manner and that roommate conflicts are resolved in a speedy fashion.

I hope that my email makes sense and it clearly lists my reasons for concern. I have lived on campus for four years and it is very discouraging when fellow students misrepresent what hall life entails out of ignorance. Several residents who have read your article have been bombarding RAs with questions regarding the policy since the article differs from what they understood the policy to be and it is very frustrating to have to explain to them that the policy is not as the article states. There are consequences to every action and when you chose an action, you must accept the results of that choice. I hope that in the future, this newspaper is held to a higher standard so it can be a newspaper that students may trust.

Thank you for your time,
Resident Assistant for two years

Poetry: Understand

Do you ever apologize for things that you don't understand in a truly heartfelt manner or merely using a snide tone that expresses your discontent with the situation unraveling?
I thought I understood a foreign planet but I didn't so I'm left confused and unsure on how to move forward, grasping at my orbit and daily routine to steady myself as the effects of the impact resolve.
I don't know what I am but I know what I'm not.
Isn't that the next best thing?

Education

The biggest problem with education in our country is not the education. It’s the mindset about education; the misinformation and the backwards efforts to improve it.

You do not need a college degree to be successful. There, I said it. We have a multitude of opportunities and careers that can be obtained without ever stepping down that road to debt. Can we please stop pretending that these options don’t exist or that you’re doomed to work at Mickey D’s if you don’t go to college?

Before you get higher education, think of what getting a degree entails. Not in the, ‘I need a degree to get a job’ way but at the root of it– what should your education be doing.

Through high school, it’s a base line introduction to different types of thinking, a short flirting session with many types of information. You learn nothing because you’re not supposed to. It’s supposed to spark your creativity to learn a subject without actually telling you anything at all about any of the subjects that you flirt with.

Bachelors– finding a subject of interest and learning that you know so little that you don’t even know what you don’t know.

Masters– discovering what it is that you don’t know about said subject of interest.

Doctorates– learning how to self study and expand so that the areas that you don’t know decrease. Furthermore, learning how to find the answers to what you don’t know so that if you ever have to know, it is guaranteed that you could figure it out at that time.

You stop when you are satisfied with your level or realize that you don’t need to stay in school longer because you have picked up the purpose of the next degree without needing to study further.

But no one thinks like this anymore. People come in drones to colleges to get the essential BA, not knowing what subject they want, not knowing what career opportunities that it leads to, not knowing if said opportunities would satisfy them. They flounder until they get that certificate in their hands and then wonder if they learned anything and go onto the job market unable to apply their degree to a job, getting hired for work that they are incapable of completing correctly for they lack the proper understanding and training.

It’s nuts. And not because schools are corrupt or because teachers are bad though both may be true. We no longer understand the purpose of education. Instead of rectifying this, the focus is on manipulating how the information gets presented or switching who the instructor is; thinking new person, new style means better. But this… this is not true. Your education is dependent upon one thing only: you.

Welcome to America. The land of the uneducated educated elite.

My Story

I fell in love when I was 12 years old. I dated this person when I was 14 and we broke up before I turned 15. I didn’t understand my feelings for a very long time and it took me years after he was long gone for me to come to terms with what he meant to me and the damage that those feelings had caused to my mentality. He used to call us opposites and would joke that ‘opposites attract’. It was just a dumb phrase that he would say but after he left me, hearing that phrase would make my blood run cold and I would feel like crying. I’ve always said that he was dangerous for me because if he ever wanted to take me back, I’d go. Despite being against dating your ex’s, I wouldn’t be able to refuse his invitation. He owned a place in my heart that no other could ever fill and I called that place 'first love’. When I was 20 he asked for me again It had been almost exactly 6 years to the day that I once again became his girl. Full of insecurity and hesitancy, I constantly tested him with deal-breakers wondering if I’d be able to keep him for sure this time. Somehow, he passed everything that I threw at him. I’m not sure he was even aware of my dumb challenge yet… he always answered beautifully. Despite being his again, that phrase he used in the past still left a sore spot. I feared that he would use it again but when I asked him why he wanted to be with me he simply said, 'we complement each other’. A wound that I thought I would never be able to leave behind me was gone. This shift in word choice, in mentality… he was the same yet he was a man. There was no way that I was letting him leave me a second time.

Poetry: Sleep

I'm laying on my bed in my dark room alone and I've told everyone who might bother me that I'm sleeping for a nap but in reality, I lay here with my dark thoughts and feel morose as the sensations of being alone well up and consume me.

I miss my man for many reasons but here in this moment a primary one would have to be his refusal to let me cry. I physically crave the happiness that he brings me whether it was done intentionally or not. And how can I tell him what this separation does to me without him feeling guilt? It is not his fault that he is gone and there is nothing he can do to quicken his return. He craves me as I, him. And I know what he'd say if he was here... giving gentle reassurances in his embrace, pleading me not to cry and to be strong for him. I know these things... Somehow they just make me more sad.

I cry a guilty tear and tell myself that I'm not depressed-- just homesick. We have forever so don't worry so much about the now. But I ache to be touched, to be held, to be loved... more than I've ever felt hungry. More than I've ever felt tired. It is a need deep within my soul, a wound in my spirit that is bleeding. I don't know how I'll make it to tomorrow...

I guess I'll just sleep.

Reassure Me

My head spun with anxiety. All I wanted was to be in his arms but I didn’t feel like I belonged there. I looked at him with torn emotions and bolted out of the room without any explanation, running down the hallway and collapsing against a closet door.

Why did I always have to create such drama? If I just let things be, we could be happy…

I cried at my own weakness, my inability to let things go. My personal refusal to accept his love. I wanted to die. As much as I didn’t want to let him go, I felt guilty for having him. He was better than I. Curling up really small, I felt immature and stupid. My fears and incompetence swirled in my head and crawled to the back of the closet, feeling the cold walls touch my skin as if to further accentuate my point. I was alone.

Tears blurred my vision not that I would have seen much anyway in the dark armoire I had escaped to. Just kidding, it was a closet. My ears rung in my sorrow so all I could hear was the soft noises that were escaping from my own person. The shuffling of my limbs against the ground, the unsteady beating of my heart, the small release of each new tear as it fell from my face. I buried my face in my hands as if hiding into layers of darkness as if I was the center of a matryoshka doll set.

I didn’t hear him enter the room.
I didn’t hear him come to the closet and sit outside.
I didn’t hear him place his hand onto the wood, as if to reach out to me across an unbreakable boundary.
I didn’t hear him sigh as he questioned whether or not to open it.
I didn’t hear him slide the door open slowly so as to not startle me.
I didn’t hear him.

Not until he sat next to me and pulled me into his lap and asked me not to cry. He stroked my cheek softly and made sure that I felt his arms wrapped around me tightly like a shield of protection from the outside world. I looked up at him with shame and only saw concern and love that wouldn’t let me refuse his offer.

We kissed softly and I’m not really sure who initiated but it was wet with my tears and gentle with uncertainty. He pulled me in closer and pet my head to reassure me.

“I’m not going to leave you,” he whispered slowly, as if answering a question that I forgot to verbalize. “I love you.”

“You’re too good to me,” I protested with gratitude.

“I know,” he said with a smile as he kissed me again.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, not wanting for the embrace to ever end. He just breathed me in while nuzzling my cheek affectionately. I forgot that we were in a closet. I forgot my fears and my doubts. Caught in his embrace I could only think of how much he made me happy and how much I wanted to please him.