Free Arts Mentoring Program (NYC)

      Calvin is... pretty effin great. I have a couple of bosses, but the big boss is so much more down-to-earth than I'd have ever imagined (+ she's a Jay-Z fan #points). Every interaction I have with her, I respect her so much more. She asked our entire department to dedicate a day to community service projects. I chose to work with kids with Free Arts NYC.

    I wasn't... scared, really. I just knew. I knew that I don't have any children and any child in my possession is a nerve wracking ordeal. Sparing you the details of "kids will be kids" I can say, I learned a ridiculous amount of wisdom from a 7-year-old. I'd say she mentored me more than I did her. 

       The Free Arts NYC program we participated in takes place on Saturdays from 10am - 3pm and all you pretty much do is arts & crafts. *sigh of relief* It's brilliant because you don't really have to teach the kid anything... you simply get to spend time & that was what I found most valuable. Sometimes, all you need is someone to make you feel special. To look you in the eye when you're having conversation. My buddy & I talked about everything and nothing: School, art, birds, architecture, God. "Nobody is perfect," she told me as I tried to manage her and another 6-year-old (who was a boss). "Only God." She finished explained. I sat back and exhaled. I spent lunchtime trying to understand how this little girl understood. I was having a tough time, man. Dealing with another person's child is difficult, but in that, you see how beautiful children are. All they want to do is sit, laugh, glue & eat pizza... and make a new friend here and there. A bit of attention. Isn't that what we all need, though? Not only was this great for the kids, but this gave me a bit of outside time with my 9-5 family that I surely appreciated  :) (#Secretly, I love my day-job.)

Loyola U - BSA Fashion Show 2012 (REVIEW)

COMING SOON.     

CLICK HERE for photos.

Save Our Sons #TrayvonMartin

"Our son was not committing any crime," said Martin's mother, Sybrina Fulton. 

"Our son is your son. I want you guys to stand up for justice 

 and stand up for what's right."

 -CBS News

     

      I don't trust you. Honestly, I'm not sure if it was because of your melanin deficiency or because, as you yelled at me for praising champagne, you displayed that same uncontrolled passion-infused anger I assume is at fault in taking the life of a 17-year-old boy. "Stop writing about champagne!" he yelled walking up W21st. "Kids are dying!" He went on. I turned and gave him the thumbs up. I applauded his fury but I had one question for the loud white man walking 30 feet from the silent black woman he was there with: I ask of you, before this day, did you worry about my sons? Because every day I worry about what roadblocks the world will build to make sure he doesn't make it out alive. Because I know every time my son steps out of my front door, someone will assume he is a criminal and decide to prove themselves correct. They will ignore his smile and refuse to hear him laugh. They'll know nothing about his strength and endurance or how sweet he sings because, to most of the world, he is nothing but a gang affiliated goon. In this case, though, Trayvon had nothing to shoot but skittles. Have you tasted the racism?