On June 12th, SOLUTION had its second official event entitled "No Excuses". I want to give a shout out to all the volunteers and supporters that made our event possible. Thank you for being a part of the SOLUTION!
OxyJon
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Solution Series: Magic
There’s a bit of magic in everything and some loss to even it out….bit of magic in everything…some loss to even it out…bit of magic…everything…some loss…even it out…magic…everything…loss…even it out…magic…in…everything…
A young man darts from the sidewalk right into the middle of the street and picks up a coin. A speeding driver coming towards him slams on his breaks, missing him by inches. After getting across his derision for the young coin philately by way of sailor swears, he drives onward, maneuvering his car around the young man with coin in hand, barricading through the worn leash filled with rips and bite marks that was being torn in two directions by struggle—holding together the remains of a bittersweet friendship between a man and his German Shepherd. Scared by the vehicle and overjoyed by his newfound freedom, the man’s pet companion jolts off. The dog-chase led the owner to the shopping complex across the street, passing the entrance of a local clothing store, which gives a young girl running with a hand full of colorful jewelry just the moment of interference that she needs to get away from the security guard that cursed the dog sprinting in front of him.
Meanwhile, the young kleptomaniac makes it to the street just in time to catch the next bus going East, which gives the elderly woman trudging through the parking lot enough time to get on the bus as well, instead of waiting five minutes for the next one. On the bus, the girl sees a guy that spread nasty rumors about her all over their school. She greets him with a whirlwind of finger points and threats backed by breath that smelled of Starbursts and Jungle Juice. Things escalate. The driver stops the bus. He kicks the kids off. The old woman now has a bad headache from the noise. Her head throbs as the bus passes her stop.
The old woman finally realizes that she passed her destination. She sinks into her seat. She takes the bus to the closest stop near her house. She unlocks the door, walks in, and sits in her favorite chair. She cries.
“Is your grandma gonna be ok?” BT asks with uncomfortable concern.
Ed shook his head and made a stroboscopic shrug, “I don’t know, man. Some crazy girl got on the bus with her and started a fight with some dude and made her miss her stop. So ,she was gonna be late for work. She said her boss told her that if she was late again, they’d fire her. She was so upset she decided to just come back home instead of showing up late. “
“Aw man, that’s terrible!”
“Who you tellin? We’re already struggling enough as it is. I just lost my job when I went to jail last month…”
“Jail last month? You went to jail? For what?”
“Yea man, domestic violence. My ex girl is crazy. I come over trying to see my kid, and she starts cursing me out for no reason, telling me im no good and all this other stuff. She gets all up in my face, and next thing you know, she’s tryna hit me. So I grab her hands and wrestle her down. She gets mad, calls the cops, and tells them that I hit her. Can you believe that?
“What? Are you serious?”
“Yea man, I couldn’t believe it either. But, the cops did. They locked me up, and it was a Friday so I couldn’t go to work on Saturday…”
“Oh yea, because they hold you over the weekend.”
“Exactly! So I missed work, and they fired me. “
“Wow, so what are you gonna do now?”
“I’m going back to my first love—magic. I got a show lined up next week. Im really riding on this one, BT. I put every last dollar I had into this to rent out that old building off of Jackson St.”
There was a moment of awkward silence. In the background, BT could still hear Ed’s grandmother sobbing in-between the screeches of the plastic covering the furniture—the typical cry from those trapped in a world of antiquity and must. If the walls of Ed’s house could talk, they’d need inhalers first.
Ed pulled out a deck of cards and starting shuffling them around.
“Ed”
“Yea?” Ed said as he looked up at BT, showing the abyss filled with burden in his eyes.
“Do you believe in magic?”
Ed chuckled, “Naw, man. I do it. So, I know it aint no such thing as it. It’s just entertainment. Magic is just all about playing with people’s imagination. Everything that happens has an explanation for it. Here, I’ll show ya…”
Ed start doing magic tricks for BT and explaining how they work. Ironically, as Ed did more to convince BT that there was no such thing as magic, BT started to believe more and more that it must exist. It wasn’t because of Ed’s tricks. It was because of Ed.
BT had been friends with Ed for over ten years, but their lives were so different. BT was a student at Hughes College. He was squeaky clean. On the right path—if there is such a thing. How was their friendship possible? After all that Ed had been through, why wasn’t BT afraid of him or judging him? Why did BT still believe in Ed? Magic.
Why did BT still believe that his literacy program could make a difference? Why did he still have faith in the volunteers? Why did they always seem to come through? How did Gene know to text him? How did Gene always know? Magic.
It started getting late. So, BT decided to head out. He and Ed exchanged good-byes and BT walked to his car, which was parked on the street. On his way, he saw a coin in the road. He picked it up. A car slammed on its brakes a few feet in front of him. He looked up. As the driver gawked at him, he got into his car and looked at the coin. It was just like the one he accidentally dropped out of the window earlier that day. When that guy was struggling with his dog.
He made it come back. Maybe he never even lost it. It depends on your imagination.
Good or bad. He’s magic.
OxyJon
A young man darts from the sidewalk right into the middle of the street and picks up a coin. A speeding driver coming towards him slams on his breaks, missing him by inches. After getting across his derision for the young coin philately by way of sailor swears, he drives onward, maneuvering his car around the young man with coin in hand, barricading through the worn leash filled with rips and bite marks that was being torn in two directions by struggle—holding together the remains of a bittersweet friendship between a man and his German Shepherd. Scared by the vehicle and overjoyed by his newfound freedom, the man’s pet companion jolts off. The dog-chase led the owner to the shopping complex across the street, passing the entrance of a local clothing store, which gives a young girl running with a hand full of colorful jewelry just the moment of interference that she needs to get away from the security guard that cursed the dog sprinting in front of him.
Meanwhile, the young kleptomaniac makes it to the street just in time to catch the next bus going East, which gives the elderly woman trudging through the parking lot enough time to get on the bus as well, instead of waiting five minutes for the next one. On the bus, the girl sees a guy that spread nasty rumors about her all over their school. She greets him with a whirlwind of finger points and threats backed by breath that smelled of Starbursts and Jungle Juice. Things escalate. The driver stops the bus. He kicks the kids off. The old woman now has a bad headache from the noise. Her head throbs as the bus passes her stop.
The old woman finally realizes that she passed her destination. She sinks into her seat. She takes the bus to the closest stop near her house. She unlocks the door, walks in, and sits in her favorite chair. She cries.
“Is your grandma gonna be ok?” BT asks with uncomfortable concern.
Ed shook his head and made a stroboscopic shrug, “I don’t know, man. Some crazy girl got on the bus with her and started a fight with some dude and made her miss her stop. So ,she was gonna be late for work. She said her boss told her that if she was late again, they’d fire her. She was so upset she decided to just come back home instead of showing up late. “
“Aw man, that’s terrible!”
“Who you tellin? We’re already struggling enough as it is. I just lost my job when I went to jail last month…”
“Jail last month? You went to jail? For what?”
“Yea man, domestic violence. My ex girl is crazy. I come over trying to see my kid, and she starts cursing me out for no reason, telling me im no good and all this other stuff. She gets all up in my face, and next thing you know, she’s tryna hit me. So I grab her hands and wrestle her down. She gets mad, calls the cops, and tells them that I hit her. Can you believe that?
“What? Are you serious?”
“Yea man, I couldn’t believe it either. But, the cops did. They locked me up, and it was a Friday so I couldn’t go to work on Saturday…”
“Oh yea, because they hold you over the weekend.”
“Exactly! So I missed work, and they fired me. “
“Wow, so what are you gonna do now?”
“I’m going back to my first love—magic. I got a show lined up next week. Im really riding on this one, BT. I put every last dollar I had into this to rent out that old building off of Jackson St.”
There was a moment of awkward silence. In the background, BT could still hear Ed’s grandmother sobbing in-between the screeches of the plastic covering the furniture—the typical cry from those trapped in a world of antiquity and must. If the walls of Ed’s house could talk, they’d need inhalers first.
Ed pulled out a deck of cards and starting shuffling them around.
“Ed”
“Yea?” Ed said as he looked up at BT, showing the abyss filled with burden in his eyes.
“Do you believe in magic?”
Ed chuckled, “Naw, man. I do it. So, I know it aint no such thing as it. It’s just entertainment. Magic is just all about playing with people’s imagination. Everything that happens has an explanation for it. Here, I’ll show ya…”
Ed start doing magic tricks for BT and explaining how they work. Ironically, as Ed did more to convince BT that there was no such thing as magic, BT started to believe more and more that it must exist. It wasn’t because of Ed’s tricks. It was because of Ed.
BT had been friends with Ed for over ten years, but their lives were so different. BT was a student at Hughes College. He was squeaky clean. On the right path—if there is such a thing. How was their friendship possible? After all that Ed had been through, why wasn’t BT afraid of him or judging him? Why did BT still believe in Ed? Magic.
Why did BT still believe that his literacy program could make a difference? Why did he still have faith in the volunteers? Why did they always seem to come through? How did Gene know to text him? How did Gene always know? Magic.
It started getting late. So, BT decided to head out. He and Ed exchanged good-byes and BT walked to his car, which was parked on the street. On his way, he saw a coin in the road. He picked it up. A car slammed on its brakes a few feet in front of him. He looked up. As the driver gawked at him, he got into his car and looked at the coin. It was just like the one he accidentally dropped out of the window earlier that day. When that guy was struggling with his dog.
He made it come back. Maybe he never even lost it. It depends on your imagination.
Good or bad. He’s magic.
OxyJon
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Texas Re-Makes History
Recently, the Texas Board of Education passed a law allowing politicians to rewrite history by making changes to the state-mandated history, social studies, and economics textbooks. Their Board of Education has called for changes that are considered politcally conservative--leaving out the writings and philosophies of Thomas Jefferson, focusing more attention on the conservative resurgence of the 1980's and 90's, justifying McCarthyism, highlighting the violent efforts of the Black Panther Party during the Civil Rights Movement, and leaving out a number of major hispanic figures from the curriculum being taught in a state with an extremely high hispanic population.
Texas is showing us what happens when politics gets too tightly entangled with education. Telling the truth about our country and molding the minds of future generations should not become a battle between the right and left. The crazy thing about the truth is that it knows no political ideology. Hopefully, we can learn the value of education outside of the classroom. Texas shows us that the truth has been, is, and will probably always be missing from the classroom. So, instead of debating over what our kids learn at school, lets counter the politics with what our kids learn, once they step out of the classrooms. Education is about more than textbooks. Be a part of the SOLUTION.
OxyJon
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Solution Series: Spirits
Our Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. On Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And, lead us not into temptation. For, thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory forever. Amen. Our Father...hallowed be thy name...thy kingdom come...thy will be done...on Earth...in Heaven...give us this day...forgive us our trespassors...forgive those who trespassed against us...lead us not into tempation....kindom, power, glory forever...give us this day....forgive our us our trespasses...lead us not into temptation...forever...lead us...forever....Amen.
BT turned around to see who had requested his attention. It was none other than Sidney Carter—the mysterious man that sneaked into the back towards the end of the meeting. Sidney was a local minister ,who had gained a reputation as very a intimidating and authoritative leader. It was his way—which in his eyes was “God’s way”—or the highway.
“Oh, Pastor Carter! Sure! What can I do for you?”
“Well, first of all, brother, I really want to let ya know how much I like what you doin’ with the college kids. It sho’ is a blessing to see what ya’ll tryna do for our young folks.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate that. We are just trying to do our part, ya know?”
“Yea, I know. I know. I just have a few concerns about ya program. It’s good that you got the college kids and all, but it would probably be better if you had some adults workin’ with ya too. I just would hate for stuff to go wrong. I mean yall’s meeting just about got outta control. I just think ya could use a lil help from some older folks.”
“I’ll…I’ll think about it. I think we’re fine though. Everything is under control.
“I really don’t think it is. Look, this is what I’m willin’ to do for ya. I’ll let you move ya program over to the church and have a couple of my ministers help ya take control of things. Then, you can have me and Councilman Hicks come and speak to the kids and…”
“I’m sorry, Pastor, but with all due respect, we will not be needing your services. We will be fine with what we are building on now. But, again, thank you for the offer.”
“Look, boy can’t you see im tryna help you? Now, I heard about what you don done last year, and God done put it on my heart to save your lil project and take it to the next level. This is bigger than you and me. This is about doin’ God’s work. Don’t you know failure to do God’s work is a sin,boy?
At that moment, BT started boiling on the inside. For that moment in time, he hated Sidney, and he hated God. No, he hated the God that Sidney created—not the God that created Sidney. Yet, as that deep-seeded hatred spewed through BT’s body, infusing into his blood and wrapping its claws around his bones, his spirit calmed him. And, he responded to the minister by saying:
”Ok. Well, I will think over a plan that we can work on, and I’ll get back to you soon. I look forward to doing God’s work with you, pastor. “
BT had walked a tightrope between being respectful and being a coward. After all, Sidney was his elder and a leading figure in his community. He could not disrespect him. But, BT also knew that Sidney had no right to use God as a weapon. Or, at least not his God anyway.
As BT turned and headed back towards his car, he saw none other than Gene standing next to his driver’s side mirror with her arms folded and opprobrium written all over her face.
“What?” said BT with a sweet-and-sour blend of vexation and apathy in his voice.
“You know what”,said Gene as she stood with her arms still tightly folded, almost as if she foolishly believed that she could physically guard her heart.
They stared at each other for a moment. The tension grew like a magic beanstalk. Then, Gene muscled the courage to do what the bravest men have often feared to attempt. She talked.
She talked about the conversation that she had just witnessed between BT and Sidney. She talked about how they both looked like fools. She talked about how Sidney had no business talking to BT in such manner and how BT was a coward for letting it happen. She just kept talking.
“You walk around campus and all through Alexandria in a daze all the time, having all these dreams. You’ve been dreaming about this program for so long, and this man tries to take your dream from you, and you want to be a nice guy. Of all times, BT, now you want to be a nice guy!”
And, she was not done, yet. She kept talking. She talked about Sidney. She talked about his ulterior motives—how he cared more about the interior in his car than the kids of Alexandria. She talked about how Sidney just wanted to gain favor in the community because he has ambitions of running for mayor in the next election. She talked about his thirst for power, pride in himself, and abuse of the people.
“BT, he is against you! It makes no sense for you to run a literacy program and not be able to read the signs.”
She kept talking. BT knew that she was right. Yet, he would never admit it. That would give her too much power. And, when he admitted that to himself, he realized that, for that single moment in time, he was just like Sidney. At that moment, BT wanted to confess to Gene. He wanted her to pour out his fears and inundate her in his trials. He wanted to stop swimming upstream and, instead, ride the current.
But, he didn’t. He almost did. But, he didn’t. He just couldn’t. So, he didn’t.
The next moment came. BT started changing. His spirit started burgeoning again. He started thinking of what he could do to stop Sidney from taking over his program. Then, he thanked Gene for inspiring him, but he hid his praise behind a frustrated head shake, a head rub, a deep breath, and the words , “Yea, whatever”.
BT finally got into his car. He drove off. Gene still standing there—arms folded. As he gripped the steering wheel and his car glided down the street, he thought about God. He thought about Satan. He thought about the battle between these two ideas that he had heard stories of since he was a child. With his eyes open and staring at the road in front of him, he prayed. He prayed that he was on God’s side. He prayed that he would hear God’s voice and get all the answers. He prayed for the easy way out. Then, he thanked God. For what? He did not know. But, he thanked God.
By the time BT finished his prayer, he was halfway across the town from that old building at which they held the meeting. But, Gene was still there—arms folded. She kept talking. BT heard an alert from his phone. He had a text message.
“U R welcome [Gene Yus]”
BT smiled and shook his head. She kept talking.
OxyJon
BT turned around to see who had requested his attention. It was none other than Sidney Carter—the mysterious man that sneaked into the back towards the end of the meeting. Sidney was a local minister ,who had gained a reputation as very a intimidating and authoritative leader. It was his way—which in his eyes was “God’s way”—or the highway.
“Oh, Pastor Carter! Sure! What can I do for you?”
“Well, first of all, brother, I really want to let ya know how much I like what you doin’ with the college kids. It sho’ is a blessing to see what ya’ll tryna do for our young folks.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate that. We are just trying to do our part, ya know?”
“Yea, I know. I know. I just have a few concerns about ya program. It’s good that you got the college kids and all, but it would probably be better if you had some adults workin’ with ya too. I just would hate for stuff to go wrong. I mean yall’s meeting just about got outta control. I just think ya could use a lil help from some older folks.”
“I’ll…I’ll think about it. I think we’re fine though. Everything is under control.
“I really don’t think it is. Look, this is what I’m willin’ to do for ya. I’ll let you move ya program over to the church and have a couple of my ministers help ya take control of things. Then, you can have me and Councilman Hicks come and speak to the kids and…”
“I’m sorry, Pastor, but with all due respect, we will not be needing your services. We will be fine with what we are building on now. But, again, thank you for the offer.”
“Look, boy can’t you see im tryna help you? Now, I heard about what you don done last year, and God done put it on my heart to save your lil project and take it to the next level. This is bigger than you and me. This is about doin’ God’s work. Don’t you know failure to do God’s work is a sin,boy?
At that moment, BT started boiling on the inside. For that moment in time, he hated Sidney, and he hated God. No, he hated the God that Sidney created—not the God that created Sidney. Yet, as that deep-seeded hatred spewed through BT’s body, infusing into his blood and wrapping its claws around his bones, his spirit calmed him. And, he responded to the minister by saying:
”Ok. Well, I will think over a plan that we can work on, and I’ll get back to you soon. I look forward to doing God’s work with you, pastor. “
BT had walked a tightrope between being respectful and being a coward. After all, Sidney was his elder and a leading figure in his community. He could not disrespect him. But, BT also knew that Sidney had no right to use God as a weapon. Or, at least not his God anyway.
As BT turned and headed back towards his car, he saw none other than Gene standing next to his driver’s side mirror with her arms folded and opprobrium written all over her face.
“What?” said BT with a sweet-and-sour blend of vexation and apathy in his voice.
“You know what”,said Gene as she stood with her arms still tightly folded, almost as if she foolishly believed that she could physically guard her heart.
They stared at each other for a moment. The tension grew like a magic beanstalk. Then, Gene muscled the courage to do what the bravest men have often feared to attempt. She talked.
She talked about the conversation that she had just witnessed between BT and Sidney. She talked about how they both looked like fools. She talked about how Sidney had no business talking to BT in such manner and how BT was a coward for letting it happen. She just kept talking.
“You walk around campus and all through Alexandria in a daze all the time, having all these dreams. You’ve been dreaming about this program for so long, and this man tries to take your dream from you, and you want to be a nice guy. Of all times, BT, now you want to be a nice guy!”
And, she was not done, yet. She kept talking. She talked about Sidney. She talked about his ulterior motives—how he cared more about the interior in his car than the kids of Alexandria. She talked about how Sidney just wanted to gain favor in the community because he has ambitions of running for mayor in the next election. She talked about his thirst for power, pride in himself, and abuse of the people.
“BT, he is against you! It makes no sense for you to run a literacy program and not be able to read the signs.”
She kept talking. BT knew that she was right. Yet, he would never admit it. That would give her too much power. And, when he admitted that to himself, he realized that, for that single moment in time, he was just like Sidney. At that moment, BT wanted to confess to Gene. He wanted her to pour out his fears and inundate her in his trials. He wanted to stop swimming upstream and, instead, ride the current.
But, he didn’t. He almost did. But, he didn’t. He just couldn’t. So, he didn’t.
The next moment came. BT started changing. His spirit started burgeoning again. He started thinking of what he could do to stop Sidney from taking over his program. Then, he thanked Gene for inspiring him, but he hid his praise behind a frustrated head shake, a head rub, a deep breath, and the words , “Yea, whatever”.
BT finally got into his car. He drove off. Gene still standing there—arms folded. As he gripped the steering wheel and his car glided down the street, he thought about God. He thought about Satan. He thought about the battle between these two ideas that he had heard stories of since he was a child. With his eyes open and staring at the road in front of him, he prayed. He prayed that he was on God’s side. He prayed that he would hear God’s voice and get all the answers. He prayed for the easy way out. Then, he thanked God. For what? He did not know. But, he thanked God.
By the time BT finished his prayer, he was halfway across the town from that old building at which they held the meeting. But, Gene was still there—arms folded. She kept talking. BT heard an alert from his phone. He had a text message.
“U R welcome [Gene Yus]”
BT smiled and shook his head. She kept talking.
OxyJon
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