Destiny (draft)

     He could no longer see where the ocean ended and the sky began.  There was nothing but darkness, and the wind bristling through his hair was coming from that darkness.  The faint chime of a buoy was barely audible over the sound of the waves, but he knew it was out there.  There was something else out there on this night, although what it was was still uncertain.

     The young boy at his side gripped his hand tightly.  "Daddy, what are you looking at?"
     "Not looking," he replied.  "Waiting."
     The surf was nearly at their feet.  As each new wave bid farewell, the wet sand inched closer and closer.  The wind was beginning to pick up and he could tell that the boy was growing restless.
     "It's getting colder, daddy.  We've been here forever."
     "Forever?" he replied.  "I said the same thing to my father when he took me here.  I was the same age as you are now.  And I was full of questions also."
     The boy began to shiver as he continued to follow his father's gaze.  Staring out towards nothing.  Although there was something.
     "What we're waiting for... has been here forever.  But us?  We're just a blip.  We've barely been here for an instant."
     Cold and confused, the boy didn't know how to respond.  His father had always been mysterious and distant, but this was something different.  For the first time in his life, the boy was afraid of him.  For the first time he didn't know if he should trust him.
     "What are we waiting for?" he asked, loosening the grip on his father's hand.
     A soft rumbling sound began in the distance and grew louder and louder as the waves carried it towards them.  The boy stepped back, but his father kept hold of his hand.
     "Our family has many secrets.  Things that I have purposely kept from you for many years."  For the first time since they arrived, he looked down at his son.  "You're old enough now to know the truth."  

     A flash of lightening in the distance caught the father's attention, briefly revealing where the ocean met the sky.  Another soft rumbling accompanied the flash, and as the sound dissipated into the void, so did the horizon.
     The boy tugged on his father's arm.  "Daddy, it's going to start raining.  Can we please go home?"
     "That's not a storm.  And if we leave now, we won't have any home to go back to."
     The howling of the wind grew deafening.  They could no longer hear the sound of the ocean waves.  At first the boy thought it was because of the wind, but soon realized that the entire shoreline was gone.  The ocean was slowly disappearing into the horizon, leaving behind a darkness more striking then the sky above them.  It was not the darkness of the abyss, rather something else.  Something that began to rise.  The boy was terrified and desperately tried to separate himself from his father's grasp.
     "Try and remain calm.  It can sense your fear," his father yelled over the roar of the wind.  His gaze still hadn't left the horizon.
     It was the size of the entire ocean.  It was a site the boy could barely comprehend.  A bright light appeared in front of them and for the first time his father looked down at him.
     "When your time comes, you must bring your son here, just as my father once brought me and his father once brought him.  You must be brave and accept your fate."  He released his son's hand and stepped into the doorway.  "Your destiny and mine are different than anyone else's.  You must face yours without fear, just as I am doing right now."
     The wind stopped.  The sky turned blue.  The ocean returned.  The world remained.  The light disappeared.  And with it, his father.

Reworking my ending... Destiny

After reading it over and over, I realized that I really hated my original ending, so I trashed it and am now trying to figure out a new one.  

     He could no longer see where the ocean ended and the sky began.  There was nothing but darkness, and the wind bristling through his hair was coming from that darkness.  The faint chime of a buoy was barely audible over the sound of the waves, but he knew it was out there.  There was something else out there on this night, although what it was was still uncertain.

     The young boy at his side gripped his hand tightly.  "Daddy, what are you looking at?"
     "Not looking," he replied.  "Waiting."
     The surf was nearly at their feet.  As each new wave bid farewell, the wet sand inched closer and closer.  The wind was beginning to pick up and he could tell that the boy was growing restless.
     "It's getting colder, daddy.  We've been here forever."
     "Forever?" he replied.  "I said the same thing to my father when he took me here.  I was the same age as you are now.  And I was full of questions also."
     The boy began to shiver as he continued to follow his father's gaze.  Staring out towards nothing.  Although there was something.
     "What we're waiting for... has been here forever.  But us?  We're just a blip.  We've barely been here for an instant."
     Cold and confused, the boy didn't know how to respond.  His father had always been mysterious and distant, but this was something different.  For the first time in his life, the boy was afraid of him.  For the first time he didn't know if he should trust him.
     "What are we waiting for?" he asked, loosening the grip on his father's hand.
     A soft rumbling sound began in the distance and grew louder and louder as the waves carried it towards them.  The boy stepped back, but his father kept hold of his hand.
     "Our family has many secrets.  Things that I have purposely kept from you for many years."  For the first time since they arrived, he looked down at his son.  "You're old enough now to know the truth."  

     A flash of lightening in the distance caught the father's attention, briefly revealing where the ocean met the sky.  Another soft rumbling accompanied the flash, and as the sound dissipated into the void, so did the horizon.
     The boy tugged on his fathers arm.  "Daddy, it's going to start raining.  Can we please go home?"
     "That's not a storm.  And if we leave now, we won't have any home to go back to."

Just Part of the Job

There’s a student in one of my Fresh/Soph classes who has crippling OCD and ADHD.  He simply cannot sit still and can be extremely disruptive during class.  He calls out, interrupts both his teachers and fellow classmates, and rarely remembers to complete homework assignments.  Sadly, many teachers have no patience for him.  They yell at him to sit down and to stop interrupting almost every period and everyday.  Unfortunately, this only frustrates him more and makes him get very down on himself.  It makes him feel like he’s a bad person.

I say it’s sad because I’ve been able to get to know him over the last two months and we’ve actually established a nice relationship. If you take the time to talk and LISTEN to him you will find that he is actually a very polite and intelligent young man.  He excitedly greets me every morning and has grown comfortable enough to come to me for help with his assignments and for advice on some of his anxiety issues.  I read a short story that he wrote and was blown away by his writing ability and creativity.

As a teacher I hope to be able to continue to build this kind of rapport with my students.  In my experience over the last 3 years, I’ve found that I’ve been able to do that with a lot of the “problem” students in the school.  Something as simple as finding a common interest and talking about it with them can completely change your relationship.  Most students just want to know that you care about them and are willing to give them your time.  That shouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience.

Revised Critical Lens

           Henrik Ibsen once wrote, “…the strongest man upon earth is he who stands most alone.”  This quote applies to characters created by both William Golding and J.D. Salinger.  Golding uses symbolism as a way to further support this in his novel Lord of the Flies, while Salinger does so in The Catcher in the Rye.

Ralph, the protagonist of Lord of the Flies, best exemplifies Ibsen’s quote because he is the last of the survivors to cling to the notions of humanity and civility.  Ralph uses the conch shell to summon and lead the survivors.  Whoever holds the conch, has the floor, so to speak.  Golding uses the conch shell to symbolize what’s left of humanity.  As the other boys turn to savagery, both the conch and Ralph, lose power.  Ralph is left to “stand alone” in his hope for morality and ability to survive Jack’s rival tribe.  Consequently, once the falling boulder destroys the conch, all hope for humanity is lost.

            While many consider Holden Caulfield a very unsympathetic character, he shows great strength in his unwillingness to conform.  In The Catcher in the Rye, Salinger uses Holden’s red hunting hat as a symbol for his uniqueness and nonconformity.  Even though Holden recognizes that it is ridiculous, and at times appears embarrassed by it, he still wears it in order to be different and stand out.  Late in the novel, Holden tells his sister that his dream job is to become a “catcher in the rye.”  Of course this is an occupation that does not actually exist, but Salinger uses the phrase to again symbolize Holden’s individuality.  As the "catcher", Holden wishes to protect children and “catch” them before they fall off the proverbial “cliff.”  In other words, Holden hopes to save children from entering the phoniness that he considers adulthood.

Both characters also experience and overcome inner struggle.  Ralph exhibits tremendous strength in his determination to resist the darkness that takes over his fellow survivors.  For example, he comes close to giving in to the evil within him after killing the boar, but is able to overcome those feelings and remain strong in his convictions.   Coincidentally, at the end of Catcher, Holden is also faced with a difficult inner struggle.  Should he allow his sister to reach for the golden ring as she rides the carousel, or should he make sure that she doesn’t fall?  By resisting the urge to help her, he has reluctantly accepted the notion of morality, thus left feeling more alone and isolated then ever.

Both Golding and Salinger use a number of literary elements to support Ibsen’s quote, “…the strongest man upon earth is he who stands most alone.”  The symbolism that both authors employ certainly makes their respective novels more powerful.

Critical Lens

           Henrik Ibsen once wrote, “…the strongest man upon earth is he who stands most alone.”  This quote applies to characters created by both William Golding and J.D. Salinger.  Golding uses symbolism as a way to further support this in his novel Lord of the Flies, while Salinger does so in The Catcher in the Rye.

Ralph, the protagonist of Lord of the Flies, best exemplifies Ibsen’s quote because he is the last of the survivors to cling to the notions of humanity and civility.  Ralph uses the conch shell to summon and lead the survivors.  Whoever holds the conch, has the floor, so to speak.  Golding uses the conch shell to symbolize what’s left of humanity.  As the other boys turn to savagery, both the conch and Ralph, lose power.  Ralph is left to “stand alone” in his hope for morality and ability to survive Jack’s rival tribe.  Consequently, once the falling boulder destroys the conch, all hope for humanity is lost.

            While many consider Holden Caulfield a very unsympathetic character, he shows great strength in his unwillingness to conform.  In The Catcher in the Rye, Salinger uses Holden’s red hunting hat as a symbol for his uniqueness and unconformity.  Even though Holden recognizes that it is ridiculous, and at times appears embarrassed by it, he still wears it in order to be different and stand out.  Late in the novel, Holden tells his sister that his dream job is to become a “catcher in the rye.”  Of course this is an occupation that does not actually exist.  Salinger uses the phrase to again symbolize Holden’s individuality.  As the "catcher", Holden wishes to protect children and “catch” them before they fall off the proverbial “cliff.”  In other words, Holden hopes to save children from entering the phoniness that he considers adulthood.

Both characters also experience and overcome inner character.  Ralph exhibits tremendous strength in his determination to resist the darkness that takes over his fellow survivors.  For example, he comes close to giving in to the evil within him after killing the boar, but is able to overcome those feelings and remain strong in his convictions.   Coincidentally, at the end of Catcher, Holden is also faced with a difficult inner struggle.  Should he allow his sister to reach for the golden ring as she rides the carousel, or should he make sure that she doesn’t fall?  By resisting the urge to help her, he has given in to the notion of morality, thus left feeling more alone and isolated then ever.

Both Golding and Salinger use literary elements to support Ibsen’s quote, “…the strongest man upon earth is he who stands most alone.”  The symbolism that both authors employ certainly makes their respective novels more powerful.

A Little About Me

When I was very young I loved to draw.  I created a number of characters and made my own comic books, coming up with stories to put the characters in.  At the same time, I also kept a notepad filled with all sorts of story ideas.  I envisioned continuous story lines that would evolve over the course of a number of issues.  Then I had other story lines planned out for when the previous ones reached their conclusions.

As time went on I realized that my drawing output could no longer keep up with the tales I was concocting.  I found myself drawing Part 3 of a six-story arc, yet writing story ideas that I wouldn't be able to get to for months.  That was when I began to see myself more as a writer then an artist.  I continued my passion for art but also started writing a lot more.  I wrote short stories and screenplays based on brand new characters.  I experimented with different genres and really fell in love with writing.

I've completed the writing portion of two children's books and have looked into how to go about getting them published.   Revisiting my original love, drawing, I am working on illustrating them as well. Unfortunately, once again, I am finding that the artwork is taking a lot more time to finish.

Not-so-Emergency Room

A few weeks ago I woke up on a sunny Sunday morning to the sounds of birds chirping, kids playing outside, the distant hum of a lawn mower, and my own scream of agonizing pain. It literally felt like something had exploded inside of me. Was I dying? Had my appendix burst? Was it just really bad gas?

I got up a paced around my room frantically. I tried stretching and doing crunches; anything to relieve the pain. Unfortunately, nothing worked. It was clear that this wasn't something that was going to simply go away. It wasn't your typical morning Charlie horse or leg cramp. This was going to require medical attention.

I called my mother and tried to explain that I was in excruciating pain, but I could barely speak. My father raced to the hospital at about 80mph. Notoriously a slow driver, I wish I could have better enjoyed seeing him race through red lights and take turns on only two wheels. Sadly though, I was fully reclined in the passenger seat, clutching my stomach. I'm pretty sure it was the first time I had cried since seeing The Lion King in the theater.

My father pulled up to the emergency room entrance, blatantly disregarding the "Ambulance Only" sign.  He dropped me off and then sped off to find a parking spot.  I hobbled into the ER, bent over like a figure 7.  Barely able to speak, I told the guy at the desk that I needed help.  He simply handed me a clipboard and told me to have a seat and fill out the paperwork.  I looked at him dumbfounded and then reluctantly sat down in the waiting area.  There were maybe three other people in the entire room.  No one appeared to be in any immediate need for assistance.  I did my best to fill out the four pages of questions and then returned it to the guy at the front desk.  Again, I told him that I was in a lot of pain, but he simply told me that they would get to me momentarily and I'd have to wait my turn.

My dad frantically entered the room and tried to explain that I needed help, but the helpful male nurse told him that there were a lot of people ahead of me.  Again, I counted three, and two of them were most likely family members of the one person who was there for assistance.

Finally they called me over the desk, where another nurse, this one female, took my temperature and blood pressure.  She then began to read from the paperwork I filled out and ask me every question I had just answered.  I asked why they had me fill out the paperwork if they were just going to re-ask me every question: name, age, current prescriptions, insurance provider, etc.  "Your handwriting is very sloppy", was her response.  It was the first time I ever wanted to punch a woman.  Through the entire exchange I was bent over in agony.  I couldn't even tell you what she looked like because I'd been staring at the floor the entire time.  

My dad almost lost it and told her that he could answer every question for me.  She ignored him and continued to ask me to translate my answers.  I screamed something in agony and they called security.  

The dofe of a security guard came wobbling over and tried to look intimidating.  "It's a kidney stone", was his diagnosis. "Great", I thought to myself, "Now we can finally go home.  The security guard just diagnosed the problem!"  He went on to say that he had a kidney stone a few years back and was in the waiting room for three hours before he was treated.  How comforting.  What excellent bedside manners.  I couldn't believe the pain didn't just miraculously disappear right then and there.

I waited about another ten minutes before a nurse finally came out and brought me into the ER.  It was another hour before I was finally hooked up to an IV and given pain medication.  The security guard was right.  It was a kidney stone.  I spent the entire day at the hospital and was finally released around 8pm.  I wanted to tell the security guard that he was in the wrong profession but unfortunately there was a new shift on duty.  Maybe next time.