I’ll be honest, I’m guilty of exactly what I am about to complain about. But that’s just because I didn’t realize the problem until recently.
Anyone with an Instagram account knows that there is a myriad of photos of crazy food items. They are incredibly aesthetically appealing. But they also promote narcissism, gluttony, and waste.
I first heard about Black Tap Craft Burgers’ milkshakes from a YouTube video by Casey Neistat (see below if you’re interested):
When I saw the milkshake with the cotton candy on top, I knew that I just had to have one. However, I wasn’t too keen on the obscene wait time, or the drive to NYC just for a milkshake. I figured that if I ever happened to be in the area, I would get one; otherwise, I would probably forget about it.
Soon after seeing that video, I passed by Coney Waffle ice cream shop in Belmar, New Jersey. They are famous for their Freak Shake, now renamed the Sideshow Shake. I love milkshakes and candy, so when I heard about the Freak Shake, I was intrigued. Could it be anything like the one in Casey Neistat’s vlog?
For $18, this is what my Freak Shake looked like:
It was a mint chocolate chip milkshake with all of the following (and probably more that I have since forgotton) on top: cotton candy, chocolate waffle, ice cream cone with an extra scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream, chocolate covered Oreo, chocolate covered pretzel with Reese’s pieces, ring pop, and gummy candies.
Does it look amazing? Absolutely. Is it possible to eat that entire thing? Gosh, I hope not.
Upon serving me, they handed me a plate and a ton of napkins, explaining that I could put all of the candy onto the plate so that I could actually attempt to drink the milkshake. They knew that there was no way that one could possibly try to eat that milkshake the way it was assembled.
So the whole purpose of this shake is the photo op. I’ll be honest, I was excited about that myself. I absolutely took a picture before I proceeded to take it apart. I ate some of the candy, but most I kept for later. I drank some of the milkshake, but it took me three days to finish the whole thing since I couldn’t even begin to fathom how many calories that would be if it was consumed in one sitting.
You know what? It wasn’t anything that special. The milkshake tasted like a mint chocolate chip milkshake. Nothing more, nothing less. You might as well go buy a vanilla milkshake from McDonald’s, add in some peppermint flavor, and then purchase a whole bunch of candy to put on a place next to you while you drink that milkshake. It would be MUCH more cost effective.
The craziest part of all of this is that the Freak Shake is actually small in comparison to the newer Sideshow Shake:
And this brings me to my point. I have realized that the main purpose of a person purchasing a Freak Shake or Sideshow Shake is the photo op. In our Instagram/Snapchat-obsessed culture, we care more about the picture than the experience.
We want everyone to see our picture and envy us for getting to go to such a unique place. Yes, I did go to Coney Waffle and yes I can afford an $18 milkshake. (Note: I did not purchase the milkshake for myself, nor would I ever even consider it because I have much better ways to spend my $18. Someone else bought it for me.)
These items also lead to gluttony and waste. Although most people couldn’t consume and entire Sideshow Shake, I’m sure that some of them will try. Don’t even get me started on all of the restaurants offering free shirts if you eat some insane amount of a particular food. We have a problem with obesity in America, yet you can have that 1-pound burger absolutely free if you can consume it in its entirety in 20 minutes without vomiting. And we’ll throw in a free t-shirt so that everyone will know about your feat. Hooray!
Many people who want the Instagram pic without the weight gain end up discarding most of the shake. They just want the picture. We are blessed to live in a country where most people are not facing hunger. And this is what we do with our privilege. Starving kids in Africa? Ehh…someone else can help them…I’ll continue to find the best angle for my Sideshow Shake and post it with the best hashtags so I can get a ton of Insta-followers!
Not convinced yet? Let’s go through a few more examples.
– Playa Bowls. I love acai bowls; I buy them because they taste amazing. But I also notice how a TON of people order them and seem to care more about the picture than the actual taste. People will walk from the Playa Bowl shop down to the beach before taking a bite because they need the perfect playa-bowl-in-front-of-the-ocean photo.
And yes, I’m also guilty of taking pictures of my acai bowls. They are really pretty, after all:
–Brother Bruno’s Pizza. I loved dessert pizza when I had it in Brazil for the first time in 2012. However, we American’s can’t keep anything simple. Bruno’s took the dessert pizza and put it on steroids.
I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t want to try it. But at the same time, they’re just getting out of hand. I would love to try a pizza with some chocolate and bananas. Or the one that has apples and caramel. But here’s a more recent photo:
That’s their raspberry/cannoli/nutella/brownie pizza, as if the other dessert pizzas weren’t unhealthy enough. They had to take it up a notch. Diabetes on a plate, anyone?
-The Unbaked Bar / Cookie DO NYC. I love the taste of raw cookie dough, as do many people, despite the dangers of salmonella due to the raw egg. A few companies realized that if they just made cookie dough without the egg, it could be consumed raw. Enter the unbaked bar and other similar shops.
Yes, those images may appear to be ice cream, but they’re actually cookie dough. And no, that cookie dough cone on the right wasn’t quite cutting it…they really needed the cookie dough-filled cookies on top.
–The Bagel Nook. I don’t feel very strongly about bagels. They’re fine. I rarely eat them. But Bagel Nook got me hooked with their Instagram pictures like the ones below:
I finally went there with my boyfriend, excited to order a tie dye bagel with cotton candy cream cheese. Yes, I did take a picture:
It looks nice, but gosh was it disappointing. It just tasted like a plain bagel with funky cream cheese. Nothing too special. I don’t plan to ever go there again. But the taste doesn’t even matter since Bagel Nook will probably always have great business since it makes such a great photo-op.
Back to the problem here. We’re purchasing these food items not because of their exquisite flavor, but because of the image that goes along with it. We can show all of our friends “hey look, I went to this trendy place and here’s the photo to prove it!” It ties in nicely with our narcissistic culture (something that’s on my mind lately, since I’m currently reading The NarcissismEpidemic…great book, I recommend it). It doesn’t really matter if we enjoy the food item; we just want our followers to see it and in return, envy us and our lifestyle.
But that isn’t the only problem. These food items also promote gluttony. Some of these food items are probably a week’s worth of calories.
Anyone surprised about the American obesity epidemic? Not I.
On the one hand, we have a constant barrage of beautiful men and women in the media and advertising. We have advertisements about the Brazilian butt lift, age-defying cream, weight loss surgery, plastic surgery, you name it. We all want to be beautiful. Most of us want to be beautiful without the hard work that coincides with working out and eating healthy.
“I want the six-pack abs, but I also want a cookie dough sundae. Actually, I don’t just want that sundae…I deserve the sundae since I did such a nice job at the gym today!”
I keep hearing a radio ad for a bariatric surgeon who promises that his patients can lose 30 or more pounds without even working out. Let’s not even try to get Americans to improve their lifestyle — that’s unreasonable. Let’s give them the quick fix surgery that they want, which will eventually fail when they continue drinking their two-liter of Pepsi while eating that Big Mac followed by a dessert pizza.
So as I said from the start, I am absolutely guilty of trying some of these food items myself, and documenting them through my own photos. Am I proud of that? No. But I didn’t realize quite how crazy it was until my Instagram feed began to be filled with more of these obscene food items.
In a world in which so many people are starving and suffering, we Americans must become aware of our overconsumption, overindulgences, narcissism, and wastefulness.
This issue extend far beyond a silly cookie dough cone or an overfilled bagel. But none of it can ever be confronted if we do not recognize some of the lunacies that are present in our society.
Day three of Father Larry Richards’ mission centered around adoration, healing, and thanksgiving (You can look up older versions of this talk on YouTube.) Our opening prayer centered on thanking Jesus for all that He has done in our lives.
We started by reading Revelation chapter 4, which was written by John. It’s all about the Mass, which cannot be understood without understanding Revelation. When we attend Mass, we are experiencing Heaven. He read through John’s description of Heaven in chapter 4 and how everyone there is constantly singing praises to God.
Most of us Catholics always want something from God. We want forgiveness, happiness, you name it. We’re constantly saying, “gimmee, gimmee.” But our main focus should be thanksgiving to God for His incredible mercy. Jesus gave His life for us and that should be our focus. We go to Mass to worship Him, glorify Him, praise Him, and thank Him, not to get something from Him. After all, He gave us the most precious gift we can ever receive in His death on the cross.
Father Larry then spoke about Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament after exposing the Eucharist. The bishop of his diocese was not keen on adoration, but Father Larry wanted an adoration chapel in his church. Despite the bishop’s refusal, he was able to eventually start holding perpetual adoration.
There were many naysayers, but he didn’t care. He had faith that the adoration chapel would come to fruition and after that, he had faith that through the prayers of his parish in that chapel, the local abortion clinic would close. After only a few months of perpetual adoration, the abortion clinic closed. Then, when it opened again two years later, it was only open for two weeks before closing again. There is now no abortion clinic in the entire diocese of Erie, Pennsylvania.
It’s so easy to lose hope in evils like abortion as a Catholic living in the year 2017. It seems to be so common today that some people give up in their fight to end abortion. But part of the problem is that we lack the faith to truly believe that abortion can be ended as a result of our prayer. God can do anything and we need to start believing that. We don’t see miracles because we don’t believe in His power.
As a pastor, Father Larry challenges his parishioners. He makes the men of his church attend the nightly hours of perpetual adoration since it is located in an urban area. Anyone who is an extraordinary minister of the holy Eucharist must have a holy hour. He says that if they do not have an extraordinary devotion to Jesus Christ, then they should not be distributing His flesh at Mass.
His job is to get every parishioner to be a saint. So is he demanding? Absolutely. But when someone dies, will they really be upset that they had to spend on extra hour per week with Jesus? A good pastor gets you to Heaven; he doesn’t just take your money and build things.
My mom’s parish in Connecticut has had a perpetual adoration chapel since Ash Wednesday of 2003 and she goes to her holy hour from 2 to 3 am on Tuesday mornings. Through her witness, I have seen the tremendous blessings that have occurred as a result of her weekly holy hour. It is not easy for her to wake up in the middle of the night to pray, but it has changed her life.
Father Larry said the same thing, adding that churches with perpetual adoration have many more people who have discovered their vocation to the religious life. He prays for an hour in adoration every day and he encouraged us to pray in adoration once a week. He also says that he can tell a priest with a good pastor when he sees that pastor sitting in adoration. Priests must pray for their parishes and if that is not the case, they are not doing their job.
When on the road, he likes to stop into churches that he passes to say a prayer. Sometimes he finds locked churches. This happened once in Illinois and six months later, the pastor contacted him to ask if Father Larry would hold his mission at their church. He refused since they do not keep their church open to the public. He explained that although his church is in an inner city, he still keeps the door open. Sure, he has security cameras, but it is important to have an open church so that people can go there to pray any time of the day.
He also told us how he was kicked out of seminary. His preaching was “overly optimistic” and the Franciscans did not believe that he had a good grip on reality. His first talk in the seminary was about how everyone was called to be a saint, but they wanted him to instead tell messages of God’s love for us. His second talk was about our need for a daily prayer life and again, they asked him if that was actually realistic. How would a person with a high-paying job have time for that? He couldn’t believe that they were upset with him for that message. How can we not have a daily prayer life and call ourselves Catholics?
So he was thrown out due to “an apparent lack of self knowledge” and a “Pollyanna attitude toward life.” He didn’t like that term, Polyanna, so he had them change it. The newer version said “excessively optimistic” attitude.
During seminary, he had a daily holy hour, and people thought that was too extreme. They looked at him like he was crazy, but he knew how crucial daily prayer life was.
On another occasion, a parishioner told him that he should leave the priesthood because of his personality. He was living in Pittsburgh, so he drove 45 minutes to Franciscan University in Steubenville, Ohio, to pray at the Portiuncula Chapel in front of the Blessed Sacrament. He was in tears praying to Jesus, telling Him that he would leave the priesthood if that was what God wanted. He then felt hands on his shoulders and a student said, “Father, thank you for being a priest. We need you.” God clearly met his needs, which happens for each of us when we pray to Him and share our needs with Him.
He then spoke to us about healing and healing services. There have been people who were physically healed of their illnesses, but that is not God’s will for everyone.
Father Larry himself even had a mass on his lungs that doubled in size over the course of a month. The day he had an MRI, he spent some time on his knees in front of the Blessed Sacrament, prayed 10 Memorares (a mini-novena) and then soon received a phone call that the mass was completely gone.
Too many of us believe that sometimes healing works and other times it doesn’t. But that is not the case. Healing ALWAYS takes place, but it isn’t always in the way that we expect or desire. We need to believe that and then we will more easily see God’s miracles in our lives.
We also have to realize that the greatest healing is death. Our end goal in life is to end up in Heaven. This world isn’t our home; we’re just passing through on our journey to Heaven. We become satisfied by worldly goods. If we live in a nice home, we feel content, not realizing that the fleeting joys of this life are nothing compared to the ecstasy that is Heaven.
People sometimes say that they don’t understand how God can allow children to die, but an innocent child or baby who dies at only one year old is more blessed than the person who dies at 100 years old because they can skip most of life’s suffering and have a quicker path to Heaven. That teaching is difficult to accept since we cannot fathom the joys of Heaven, but that is what Jesus has promised.
Father Larry proposed an interesting analogy. For nine months, we lived in our mother’s womb. Everything came from her even though we couldn’t see her until we were born. We’re in God’s womb, with everything coming from Him, but we can’t see Him until we are born into eternal life. That is why the saints’ feast days are the days on which they died because that is the day that they entered Heaven.
Life doesn’t truly begin until Heaven and once we accept that teaching, we will stop being afraid of death. It is what we do now that will determine where we will spend eternal life. When we die, God will give us whatever it is we loved the most, but if that isn’t Jesus, then Heaven may not be our end. If we hold onto too many worldly objects, people, and desires, we show God that He isn’t what we love the most. That is why we need to show our commitment to Him every single day. We must prove that He is the one we want and love the most.
That is a quite challenging concept. We want success, love, acceptance, and other worldly pleasures, but none of that will gain us eternal life.
After discussing adoration and healing, he took Jesus around the church in the Blessed Sacrament. Having attended Franciscan University, this is something that I was familiar with, but some people may have never understood the real presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament until that evening.
He told us that while he was going around with Jesus, he wanted us to make an act of faith. He wanted us to cry out, “My Lord and my God” in our hearts. To receive healing, faith is necessary, so of course we cannot be healed if we don’t believe it. For any sacrament to work, we need faith. We can go to Mass every Sunday and receive communion, but if we don’t believe in Jesus’ real presence in the Eucharist, nothing will ever change in our lives. The same is true during adoration. Do we really believe that Jesus is there with us?
He told us not to consider the healing that we wanted for ourselves, but to say, “God, whatever You want, I want” in order to let Him give us the healing that we need.
I saw many people wiping the tears off of their cheeks as Jesus passed them by. Although I try to attend a weekly holy hour, and I have been to adoration many times, I, too, was moved with awe for Jesus’ love and mercy and I had tears falling down my own cheeks.
After that, we blessed ourselves with the oil from St. Joseph’s Oratory in Montreal, Canada. After blessing ourselves, we said, “Saint Joseph, heal me.” And in the event that we receive a physical healing, we need to remember that we were not healed in order to enjoy the rest of our lives; we are healed in order to give greater glory to God. We are healed so that we may serve others.
One of his last promises for us was that we would die. We will all become dust, and we can be in that form forever, or we can live forever; it’s our own choice. We can live our lives for Jesus Christ and spend eternity with Him, or we can avoid Jesus.
He then invited those of us who wanted to surrender our lives to Jesus to kneel down and repeat this prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, I acknowledge that I am a sinner and I am sorry for my sins. Please forgive me. Come into my heart, take control of my life, be my Lord and God and Savior. Fill me with Your Holy Spirit and make me Your disciple. I love You, Lord Jesus Christ, and I give You my life forever. Amen.”
Again, he reminded us about the two promises that he made to us at the beginning of the mission. First, we would not be bored and second, our lives would be changed forever. Upon surrendering or re-surrendering our lives to Christ, our lives were changed forever.
Father Larry says that he is set on fire by the same Holy Spirit that wants to set us on fire. God wants us to end our mediocre lives and begin to change the world. We can do it if we surrender to Him, maintain faith in Him, and heed His will for us. God wants to use us in mighty ways, but we have to let Him.
In order to allow God to transform us into His disciples, we must do three things:
Sit at the feet of the Master (daily prayer)
Develop the attitude of the Master (be a servant)
Be transformed into the Master (be another Christ…we are called to show the world Jesus)
And he told one last story about an American who was captured in a prisoner of war camp. He was near a Japanese man who was being tortured for being a traitor. The American man was a Christian who eventually knew that the Japanese man would die after a day of brutal torture. He tried telling the Japanese man about Jesus and the Japanese man said that if Jesus was anything like the American man, he couldn’t wait to meet Him.
That’s what it means to be another Christ. Can the people we encounter say that same thing? Our husbands, wives, friends, parents, children, employers, employees, neighbors, strangers? “If Jesus is anything like you, I can’t wait to meet Him.”
We must show Jesus to the world so that they can feel that desire to meet Him.
And ultimately, we must always remember to pray and to love. That is the best summary of his mission. Pray and love. If we do that for the rest of our lives, we will be saints. We are all called to be saints, which will happen as a result of prayer and love. Father Larry also asked us to pray for him. Since he goes around preaching God’s word, the devil goes after him. He needs our prayers to help him to continue preaching the Truth, staying faithful, not doing anything contrary to the teachings of Christ, and not ever doing anything that brings scandal to the Church.
I wish I had been able to attend the first two days because Wednesday and Thursday were both amazing talks. I highly suggest looking up some of Father Larry’s videos on YouTube, or his homilies on iTunes.
This past week, St. Gregory the Great Catholic Church, in Hamilton Square, New Jersey, hosted a four-day parish mission led by Father Larry Richards. I was unable to attend the event on Monday and Tuesday due to prior obligations, but I made it to Wednesday and Thursday. Wednesday focused on confession and Thursday focused on adoration and healing.
Wednesday, May 12 – Confession:
This is one of Father Larry’s most famous topics of discussion, so if you were unable to attend the event, you can see him speaking about confession at one of his other parish missions with a quick YouTube search. (Here is Part One on YouTube. It has four total parts). [see also: Part Two, Part Three, and Part Four]
Father Larry’s confession talk is extremely powerful in that he is able to make his audience examine their consciences in a way that probably goes deeper than ever before, but he is also able to cause them to feel absolute awe and wonder at God’s mercy.
At different times during the talk, I felt a combination of guilt, shame, gratitude, and overwhelming love.
He explained that mercy is when someone gives something good to someone who doesn’t deserve it. That’s exactly what Jesus did for each of us in dying on the cross. Jesus never sinned, yet He experienced excruciating pain in order to enable us to be forgiven for our sins and to one day reach the kingdom of Heaven. As Catholics, we know this to be true, but often we take it for granted.
Father Larry holds many conferences for men, so he initially spoke to the men and husbands in the audience. All of us, both men and women, should be praying daily, but it is the husband who is responsible for protecting and praying for his family. If that is not the case, he is not doing his manly duty and it is problems like this, sins of omission, that are often the most grave sins.
He spoke about the many scrupulous Catholics who are constantly going to confession over every little mistake, but they fail to realize that venial sins are forgiven during Mass. He says that Catholics should go to confession once a month, unless they have a mortal sin, in which case they must confess that as soon as possible.
He has a very blunt attitude about him, which is refreshing because he speaks the truth, not sugarcoating anything or trying to be politically correct. There are probably a lot of people who were offended by his words not because they were wrong, but because they were challenging. Any lukewarm Catholic was probably a bit frightened to understand that simply attending Mass on Sundays is not enough to inherit the kingdom of God. Even those of us who consider ourselves to be passionately Catholic were pushed in our faith, feeling humbled at the inadequacies he exposed in each of us. Priests were not exempt either, as he was very clear about the responsibility of priests to pray for their parishes.
He gave us a really good analogy of Jesus as the Good Shepherd. He once was working on a farm and had to carry a cow to a different area. While he was walking with the calf on his shoulders, it started to urinate, getting all over him and even into his mouth. This is the way that we treat Jesus. All He wants to do is bring us home to Heaven, yet we urinate all over Him through our sins while he is simply carrying us on His shoulders.
I have heard priests discuss the Passion and I watch the film, The Passion of the Christ, every year during Lent to remember Jesus’ suffering, but never have I heard it described the way it was on Wednesday night.
People sometimes wonder whether Jesus can understand their pain when dealing with the loss of loved ones, heartbreak, or even physical pain. Asking that sort of question is the equivalent of slapping Jesus Christ in the face. Of course He can understand our pain. The question is, can we understand His pain?
While Jesus was praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, he was sweating blood. Father Larry told us how our capillaries can burst when we are enduring significant stress and fear. This is what was happening to Jesus because although He accepted His death for us, that did not mean that he was immune to fear. He was terrified about the pain that he would soon experience.
Then, Judas betrayed Him with a kiss on the cheek. When we are experiencing heartbreak, we sometimes wonder if he can understand. Jesus didn’t date or marry, so how could He understand the pain of a breakup or divorce? But those questions show our lack of full understanding.
Jesus IS love. He loves everyone with a deeper love than we can ever imagine. He loved Judas, the man who betrayed Him with a kiss. Did He experience heartbreak in that moment? Absolutely. We cannot fully grasp the extent of God’s love while we live in these earthly bodies, so it is we who cannot understand this heartbreak, not Jesus.
Father Larry continued to describe the pain of His Passion in a more detailed way than I have ever heard before. He described the way Jesus was scourged and how the pieces of metal and sheep bone that were attached to the leather straps on the rod would not just slap Jesus’ skin, but tear it away. This reminds me of the scourging scene in The Passion of the Christ when the metal on the strap gets stuck in Jesus’ side and is then ripped away with an extra tug. I am unable to watch that moment in the film, yet this was the way the entire scourging process unfolded.
Father Larry described the crown of thorns as more of a cap of thorns. The thorns were not like those on your average rose bush; they were one to three inches long and he said that they would have pierced his eyebrows, ears, and even his skull.
All of this pain, and yet the actual crucifixion had not even begun. It was then that Jesus had to carry the wooden crossbeam. It was tied to his arms, but he was so exhausted from the scourging that Jesus could barely walk. If I was to fall down, I would catch myself with my hands, but every time Jesus fell, He landed flat on his face, with the wood of the cross smashing into the back of His head.
On most crucifixes, Jesus looks to be in pretty good shape. We don’t want to terrify the people who enter our churches by portraying Him in a more realistic way, with chunks of flesh removed from his body and other strips of flesh torn and hanging, but that was the reality of the crucifixion.
I have heard so many people who refuse to watch movies about the Passion because it’s too much for them to handle. I, too, prefer movies that lack that type of gore, but it is necessary to understand. Father Larry did not mince his words in talking about the crucifixion. It was absolutely gruesome, but we must realize that in order to be truly aware of the awesome gift Jesus gave to us in His death.
Once He was nailed to the cross, His body would sag down and forward. He would be gasping for breath, only able to breathe once he pulled himself up by the nails in his wrists. He only spoke seven times while on the cross, probably because every word was a struggle.
He was hanging there, experiencing more pain than we can ever imagine, yet He said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” He was forgiving the people who were killing Him at the very moment of His crucifixion. Yet we sometimes find ourselves unable to forgive those who hurt us years ago. During the crucifixion, Jesus also established His mother, Mary, as our mother, when he said to John, “Behold your mother.” He gave us the gift of Mary, yet some Catholics refuse to honor her as they should because they want to focus on Jesus. We take Jesus’ gift of Mary and say, “No thanks, I’m good.” She is a gift from God and we must give her the love and gratitude that she deserves as mother of our Savior. Father Larry told us how he completed St. Louis de Montfort’s Total Consecration to Mary and now wears a chain on his wrist to represent how he is a slave to Jesus through Mary.
Because God cannot be near sin, Father Larry explained that Jesus said, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” when He had accepted all of our sins. God could not be with Jesus in that moment because Jesus was sin, which could only be overcome through His death.
With that, many of us were already feeling quite guilty, knowing that we had a hand in Jesus’ death. I’ve met people who don’t like to say “crucify him” aloud when we read the Passion during Lent. But although we didn’t say that word for word, we say it every time we sin. We are the ones hammering those nails into Jesus’ hands and shoving the crown of thorns into His head with every sin we commit.
At that point, Father Larry started to review the examination of conscience with us.
When people hear the term mortal sin, they often think about murder, adultery, and devil worship. But mortal sin has three facets:
As a practicing Catholic who understands the Church’s teachings, that means that any time I commit a serious sin, it is probably a mortal sin since I know the teachings and I have chosen to commit that sin. That is absolutely terrifying since it only takes one mortal sin to end up in hell.
Missing Sunday Mass or a holy day of obligation is a mortal sin unless we were really sick or otherwise unable to attend, yet there are tons of Catholics all over the world who are not at Mass each week. Sure, some of them fail to realize that is sinful, but many of them do and are therefore culpable.
When Father Larry spoke about the first commandment about not having false gods, he explained that most people never confess that sin, but all of us are guilty of it. Unless God is always first in our lives, then we are culpable of that sin. We often value money, success, and relationships more than God, which is shown in our priorities. If we don’t pray daily, we definitely are guilty of this sin.
Father Larry did not shy away from sins of a sexual nature. This can be an awkward subject for many, so some Catholics shy away from this topic, but it is a sin that so many people struggle with. He admitted to dealing with his own lustful temptations on a daily basis. I think it’s extremely honorable for a priest to stand up in front of over a thousand people and admit to that. It also helps us to realize that we are not alone, that we all face temptation, but that we also all have the strength to avoid that temptation.
He also said how too many people focus too much on feeling bad about their sins of lust while forgetting about the sins of omission, arguably the worst sins.
He said how he often asks people in confession what they have done to help the poor and whether or not they pray every day. Failing to do either of those things is much worse than many of the sexual sins that we focus on. We should all be helping those in need as much as we can, giving 10% of our income away.
We must confess the sin if we ever had an abortion or helped anyone to get an abortion. He suggests making a good confession and then asking God to reveal the child’s gender. Then they would name the child, pray to him or her in Heaven, and ask that child for forgiveness. They will then be united one day in Heaven.
It’s also a sin if we use artificial contraception. This is a topic that many priests avoid. Many people don’t want to make too many waves, but we must not forget about pivotal Catholic teachings as a result. They want to pick and choose which teachings they believe in, but that is not how it works. When we think back to Jesus’ suffering and death, we know that it was a result of each of our sins. It is not up to us to decide.
Many frequently people say “oh my God!” That is a sin that used to be punishable by death. Just because we hear other Catholics and sometimes even priests or nuns say it does not mean that it is not a sin. We have no right to take the Lord’s name in vain.
People often think they’re safe in terms of the fifth commandment since they haven’t killed, but we commit that sin every time we feel anger. Anger is not of God. Father Larry admitted to struggling with this on a daily basis. Again, it was refreshing to understand that we are not alone in our struggles. Priests aren’t immune from temptation and sin either.
After he reviewed the examination of conscience, we said the Act of Contrition aloud. There were eleven priests who would be hearing confessions and he told us to be quick, not using it as a time for counseling since there were so many people there. He also said that if we were one of those scrupulous people who had just been to confession three days ago, we needed to go to the back of the line to allow other people to confess their sins.
The next night, he said how he ended up hearing confessions until 12:10 am and how there were some people there who had not been to confession in over fifty years. He wanted to make sure that people in situations like that would not have to stand in the back of a line, possibly changing their mind and leaving with all of that sin hanging onto them.
Although I go to confession regularly, I felt even more renewed after confession on Wednesday. I had never delved that deeply into an examination of conscience. I had never felt so guilty about the sins that I have committed but simultaneously, I had never felt so loved and grateful for God’s mercy.
When my CCD students went to confession this year, I explained how fortunate they would be if they ever died on a day they went to confession. They were obviously taken aback, but Father Larry explained the same thing, how if we died following a good confession, we would go straight to Heaven. He even mentioned his movie idea of a priest who performs confessions and then slits the throats of the person who just confessed his or her sins since that would get them straight into Heaven.
Father Larry promised that during this mission, nobody would ever be bored and that their lives would be changed forever. Through his animated, enthusiastic speech, jokes, and storytelling, we were definitely never bored. And our lives were definitely changed forever. I will never consider my examination of conscience the same way I had before hearing this talk. I am so grateful that I was able to attend Wednesday night’s talk and I hope to be able to share Father Larry’s messages with the people who were not able to attend the mission.
A little over a year ago, I started attending hot yoga classes. I have Lyme disease and I find that sweating helps to decrease my symptoms. In Connecticut, I belonged to a gym that had a sauna, but here in New Jersey, I was unable to find an affordable gym that had one.
Instead, I decided to try hot yoga and I have had very positive results.
However, I remember hearing a Catholic priest warn us against yoga back when I was in high school. I hadn’t ever practiced yoga at that point, so I didn’t look into his reasoning. More recently, I decided to look into the stance of the Catholic Church on yoga.
“Catholics should not participate in any of the “spiritual” aspects associated with yoga, but technically can do the actual physical exercises. However, many people who practice yoga caution that it is often difficult, if not impossible, to separate the exercises from the meditations.
For example, a common mantra repeated in yoga is ‘So’ham’ that roughly translates to ‘I am the universal self’. This focus on the self is contrary to the focus on God to which we are called. In the words of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI: ‘Christian prayer… flees from impersonal techniques or from concentrating on oneself, which can create a kind of rut, imprisoning the person praying in a spiritual privatism which is incapable of a free openness to the transcendental God.'”
“Should you take up yoga? As a spiritual path, yoga is incompatible with Christian spirituality. But if you can separate the spiritual/meditational aspects of yoga from the body postures and breathing techniques common to yoga, then you might be able to use those postures and techniques beneficially for health. If you’re at all unsure of your ability to do so, you may well be advised to find another form of exercise.
It is important for Catholics to know that yoga should neither be hallowed nor damned. As a spiritual path for Eastern peoples unfamiliar with Christianity, it may serve to assist them as ‘they seek freedom from the anguish of our human condition either through ascetical practices or profound meditation or a flight to God with love and trust’
On the other hand, Christians seek as the goal of their prayer to ‘flow into the way to the Father, which is how Jesus Christ has described himself. In the search for his own way, each person will, therefore, let himself be led not so much by his personal tastes as by the Holy Spirit, who guides him, through Christ, to the Father’.”
So to me, it seems that the practice of yoga could be acceptable if a person practices for the exercise and breathing techniques without the spiritual aspect. That is what I do in my yoga class. I like to work on my strength and stretching but I do not consider it to be a spiritual activity. I also prefer certain instructors over others.
One of the instructors always reads from a yoga book that has lots of spiritual passages. Every time I hear them, I think about how everything that she is saying is good, but it should be centered around Jesus rather than “the universe.” “The universe” is meaningless. It is God who reigns supreme; the universe is simply His creation.
So when she reads these passages, I either ignore them, or I think about the way they relate to God.
I do the same thing when it comes time to set an intention. The instructors tell us to set an intention for our practice, a place to send our energy. I don’t believe in that part of the practice. I don’t think that by exercising, my “energy” is going to go heal my sick loved one. If it did, I would go work out for hours a day to cure the ailing people across the world. That’s just not reality.
So when it comes time to set an intention, I either just wait for us to move on, or I say a prayer in my mind since I believe that saying a prayer to God is more significant than choosing some place to send my energy.
At times, yoga also seems too selfish to me. The instructors tell us to pat ourselves on the back for giving up 75 minutes to ourselves each time. Yes, we must take care of ourselves, but some of the instructors seem too interested in this, which is opposed to the teachings of the Catholic Church. They act as though we are the center of the universe, which I do not believe to be true.
So I will continue to attend my yoga classes, but I will substitute a prayer for an intention and I will focus on my practice as a physical exercise rather than a spiritual exercise.
I went to Vernon, New Jersey this past Saturday for the Spartan Beast. My boyfriend, AJ, and I drove up to the race early Saturday morning and then we met up with my friend, Jayme, and two of her friends. While registering, AJ met a guy he knew from high school who was also at the race.
I had completed four previous Spartan races back in 2014, but this was going to be my first one since then, so I was feeling a little nervous. (Previous races: Sprint in Uncasville, CT; Super in Vernon, NJ; Beast in Killington, VT; Stadium Sprint at Fenway in Boston, MA)
I had injured my shoulder about two months ago, so although I had increased my strength training early on this year, I had to cut back tremendously in order to rehab my shoulder.
I knew that I was in good shape in terms of running, but I was curious how I would do with the obstacles.
Our start time was 9:45am, but the race was delayed since there had been thunderstorms that morning.
Once we started, the race went straight uphill. I knew from previous races that hills are meant to be walked. A Spartan beast is over 12 miles. They told us that this one was mapped out to be 13.8 miles (though their mileage doesn’t account for obstacles, so it was probably actually between 14 and 15 miles total). That’s more than a half marathon, plus crazy hills and obstacles. If you try to run up the first hill, I can almost guarantee that you are going to use up too much energy.
The hills seem almost endless at times. Before even getting to mile two, my quads were already burning (despite how often I had been running and climbing stairs before the day of the race). I was actually feeling a little bit nervous at that point, knowing that I still had over 10 miles left, yet my legs were already feeling sore.
I tried to run or at least jog every time the race became flat or downhill. I’m really good at running downhill. Some people step very gingerly when going downhill, but I find that I do better letting my momentum take over. There were many times when my legs felt tired to walk, but once I started running or jogging, they felt less fatigued.
Even going down rocky slopes, I still usually jogged, remaining confident with my footing so that I wouldn’t slip.
There were a total of 32 obstacles. Here is a review of some of them (in no particular order):
In any Spartan race, there are a number of walls to get past. Some are short and I can easily jump, push myself up on my arms, and climb over. For the 10-foot walls, I definitely need someone to help give me a boost. Racing with AJ made these walls a lot easier since he could give me a boost whenever needed.
There was also a wall in the water. For this one, we had to swim under it. I didn’t mind going under the wall, but the water is brown and muddy, so some people don’t prefer submerging themselves. I just felt for the bottom of the wall at first, to make sure that I knew how deep I had to go underwater.
After coming out of the water, there was a slanted wall with ropes on it. We had to hold the rope to pull ourselves up.
For obstacles like this, the type of sneaker you are wearing makes a HUGE difference. Lots of people were slipping all over the place. When I tried, I didn’t slip at all. I just held onto that rope and pulled myself up, one step at a time.
I prefer racing in trail shoes since they have a strong grip on the bottom. Lately there are a lot of running shoes, especially Nike ones, that are very flat on the bottom. They have little grip and although their lightweight nature may be nice when running, they are not the best option when grip is needed.
I have Adidas trail shoes that I have used for the past three or four Spartan races and I swear by them, rarely failing at an obstacle only as a result of my shoes.
There are a few times when you have to walk through water. This time, there was no swimming obstacle, but for one part of the race, you had to walk through water. I’m 5’2′ and eventually the water was up to my chest.
I expected the water to be really cold since it was only April, but surprisingly, it wasn’t bad. It was actually pretty refreshing.
I really like the water, so I enjoy the water obstacles. The hardest part is that you can’t see where you’re walking, so sometimes you trip on stones or branches. In Vermont, I cut up my shin quite a bit because I kicked a rock that I didn’t see.
This time, there were some times when we had to cross a stream. One time, I jumped into the water and tripped as I went to take a step. I fell onto a rock and cut my knee. I saw the blood coming down my sock and soon after, we were walking through deep mud. It’s never ideal to get a bunch of mud into cuts, but that’s what happens during this race.
I had forgotten about this, but there is a memory component to the race. You get to a wall and have to memorize a certain word/number combination, based on whatever the last two digits of your bib number are. My bib number was 12517, so I had to memorize “Romeo 213 1089.”
When looking at some YouTube videos, I can see that some racers did have to tell a Spartan volunteer their number at some point. If they couldn’t remember, they would have to do burpees. But somehow we never had to do that. I don’t know if we somehow ran past the people asking, or if they stopped asking. But after finishing the race, I was so frustrated that I had remembered my number for nothing.
I love this obstacle. It’s a wall with wooden rectangle hand and foot grips. I’m usually pretty good at it; I think it helps that I’m small so I can more easily rest my feet on the rectangles and grab the hand pieces with my whole hand.
For this version, though, the wall isn’t just flat across. It is in the shape of a Z. I had made it 2/3 of the way across and AJ was standing behind me. I told him to just spot me in case I needed help. I got to one of the corners and I couldn’t see the other side of the wall. I tried to reach out my foot to feel for the next wooden rectangle, but I couldn’t reach it even with my leg fully extended. The same was true with my arm.
So AJ put a hand out for me to step across since I couldn’t reach and I got my foot on the rectangle, but I still couldn’t reach with my hand, so I suddenly slipped and hit the ground. I was so frustrated since I was so close to the bell.
I forgot that I could have tried again, but instead I went and did the 30 burpee penalty while AJ crossed the wall.
Men get a larger log and females get a smaller one. You must carry it up and down a hill. The logs are pretty heavy, so although they don’t feel too bad in the beginning, it gets tiring by the time you carry it up.
I like to carry the log on my head because I find that to be the easiest option while walking uphill. Not too many people do it this way, but it works for me. Most people carry it on one of their shoulders.
On the downhill, I carried it horizontally across my stomach and that wasn’t too bad.
I hate this obstacle. It’s so hard to get the spear to actually stick into the hay. So many people have to do burpees at this obstacle. AJ was able to complete every obstacle without assistance except for this one since he missed the hay.
The females and males have different weights to carry. Just like the log carry, you walk up and down hills, over some branches, and through a little bit of water. Some people carry it on their shoulder or behind their heads.
I carried mine on my head and later kind of hugging it in front of me.
These are my major weakness. I just can’t do the monkey bars. But one day I will be able to. They have normal monkey bars…well, as normal as the Spartan race will have it. They’re still wider than normal monkey bars, so they’re really difficult to grip with my small hands.
They have monkey bars that have a long metal piece that you must get across, followed by different chains, baseballs on rope, and grips that you have to cross.
They also had ones that spin around while you’re trying to reach the next one. AJ completed each of these obstacles with ease…me, not so much.
They have these big cement stones on the ground. You must pick it up, walk a few yards, drop it, do 5 burpees, pick it up, walk back, and then drop it.
Picking it up is the hardest part. Looking online, I can’t find a definite answer about the weight, but it seems that most people agree that it is somewhere between 40 and 60 lbs for women and 80 and 100 lbs for men.
40-60 lbs doesn’t sound terrible, but the size of the stone makes it difficult to get off of the ground.
I squat as low as I can to the ground and try to push it against my stomach to get it up. Looking at tutorials online, some people roll the stone up one of their legs while the other leg is in the squatting position. That way they can get it up against their stomach/chest more easily.
Once it’s up, it isn’t too difficult to walk with the stone, but picking it up is the tricky part.
Gravel Bucket Carry
This is an obstacle that most people hate. It’s brutal. It always comes towards the end of the race. In the Spartan Beast in Vermont, this obstacle occurred twice. You have to fill a bucket with gravel. It has to be filled up to the line, which is a little bit lower for women than men.
Then, there is an extremely steep hill that you must climb while holding the bucket. If you drop it, spilling gravel, you have to start all over again. This is an obstacle that anyone can finish, but not quickly.
This was at the end of the race. My legs were so tired from all of the previous running and obstacles. Every step was difficult. I hugged the bucket in front of me, slowly putting one foot in front of the other.
Going up the hill, every time I needed a break, I put my right leg in front of me, up the hill. I would rest the bucket on my thigh. That gave me the break that I needed so that I could catch my breath. Many people rest by putting the gravel all the way back down on the ground, but that seems to waste a lot of unnecessary energy since you have to bend all the way over to drop the bucket and then lifting it off of the ground is much more difficult than lifting it off of your thigh.
At the top of the hill, it was flat, so I was sure to rest before the top and then after the flat part. I knew that if I rested at the flat part, I wouldn’t have a hill to position my right leg on in order to rest the bucket on my thigh.
I expected the downhill to be more difficult, but that was not the case. The downhill was definitely easier, but I was still very careful with my steps. Parts of the hill were very steep and had quite a bit of spilled gravel. I didn’t want to risk falling and dumping out my gravel since I would then have to start from the beginning.
I’ve still never been able to climb the rope in the race. Usually, the ropes are over water. This time, the ropes were over foam mats. And for the first time, I am able to climb a rope at the gym. However, this obstacle was the last one in the entire race. My body was entirely drained, especially from the gravel bucket carry which I had just completed. I hopped onto the rope and although I thought that I might be able to get up partway, I could tell that my arms just didn’t have the strength to get me all the way up and back down without just falling. I opted for the burpees. Again.
Here’s a nice video that someone took of all of the obstacles:
I finished in 5 hours and 3 minutes, which placed me 9th in my age group (out of 280 females ages 24-29).
I was 27th out of all 1374 females.
AJ and I both finished at the same time, so we were 299th out of 4,200 total competitors in the open division. Not too bad!
Tops: I like to wear a sports bra with an athletic tank top. I avoid cotton, t-shirts, and loose-fitting tank tops since they become heavy when wet. Some girls just wear a sports bra, but I don’t want my stomach and back to get cut while crawling over walls and under barbed wire.
Bottoms: I wear spandex shorts, or capris with long socks. If it’s around 55 degrees or warmer, I’ll go for shorts because I don’t like to feel too hot while racing. If it’s chillier, I’ll wear the capris. I opt to just wear the spandex without underwear so that there are fewer layers of fabric, but that’s a personal preference.
I used to wear shorter socks for my first few races, but then at the Beast in Vermont, I cut up my heels pretty badly since my socks were too low. That was pretty painful. I was running at last 10/17 miles with bleeding ankles. They especially hurt when I had to do the rope traverse obstacle, dragging my bleeding heels across the rope.
Those were my bleeding ankles in Vermont. Ever since then, I remember to wear tall socks to avoid that unnecessary pain.
I tend to get blisters on my toes when I run, especially if my feet are wet, so I wear Injinji toe socks:
Shoes: I always use trail shoes because of the grip. These are similar to the ones I have:
I noticed that there were a lot of people slipping on the wall that we had to climb holding onto a rope. We went from water straight to this wall, so it was pretty wet. Thanks to the grip on my sneakers, I didn’t slip at all. Most of the people who slipped had sneakers with flat soles that might work for running, but not obstacle racing.
Hydration pack: I prefer to race without a hydration pack, but I learned that it is almost essential on the beast. In Vermont, there were times when I was so thirsty that I considered asking a complete stranger for a sip of their straw.
I have a small Camelbak. It’s called a mini-mule and it’s actually a child’s size, but I found that the adult ones were larger than I wanted when I went to buy one a few years ago. This is mine:
Even better than the fact that it held water was the pockets in the Camelbak. I brought 8 GU gels to the race: 4 for AJ and 4 for me. We ended up having 3 each. In the past, I have stored my GU gels in my sports bra, but sometimes I end up with cuts between my breasts as a result. It was nice to just keep them in the pocket of the Camelbak.
I also kept our headlamps in another pocket. We didn’t need the headlamps in the end, but we had them as a precaution because you get kicked off of the race if you don’t have a headlamp after the sun begins setting.
After the Race:
Upon finishing, they give you your medal, a banana, and a protein bar. Then you can grab your T-shirt. I was happy that the T-shirts were specifically for the Spartan Beast this year. In 2014, all of the shirts were exactly the same, regardless of whether you ran the Sprint, Super, Beast, or Ultra. I have 4 of the exact same T-shirt since I ran 4 races that year.
I tried to walk around a little bit after the race because I knew that my legs would tighten up once I sat down. I was pretty dirty, so I rinsed off some of the dirt before getting on the shuttle back to our parking lot.
After the two-hour car ride home, my legs were super stiff. AJ and I were both super tired and sore, so we just went out to get dinner and then had a lazy evening. Sunday was another lazy day. They suggest running a slow, short jog the day after the race, but my legs were already so sore that I don’t think that I could have gone for a jog.
If I had, maybe that would have helped my sore legs. I’m not really too sure. I can’t even describe the pain I felt with each step. It felt as though my quads and calves had been torn apart and were unable to support my legs.
Stairs were my absolute enemy. I have had sore legs after running full marathons, but I think that I was more sore from this race than from the marathons. My right knee was locking up every time I stepped because my muscles just weren’t firing accurately.
We were finished with the race around 3pm on Saturday. Sunday and Monday were the most painful days in terms of my sore legs. Tuesday was still pretty rough. Wednesday I was almost walking normally. Thursday was normal other than steps. Finally on Friday I could walk up and down steps normally (though there was still some soreness).
After the race, I had rolled out AJ’s legs, but mine were already so sore that I told him that I didn’t want it. Maybe it would have helped.
I was also really sore in my inner arm. I had bruised it when getting up and over one of the 10-foot walls. I had an immediate bruise during the race, which just kept getting darker after the race.
Anyway, I’m really happy about the race overall. I wish I could have avoided my shoulder injury so that I could have performed better at some of the obstacles that require mainly upper body strength, but I guess that is what next year is for.
On Tuesday, I was picked up at 4am (along with a coworker of mine) by a Marine recruiter and driven to Newark airport to hop on a plane to Atlanta, Georgia, and then another plane to Savannah, Georgia. We then boarded a bus with other educators from the state of New Jersey and headed to our hotel in Beaufort, South Carolina.
This was the first leg of our journey to the United States Marine Corps 2017 Educator Workshop and we had no idea what to expect.
We were given no itinerary. Our short packing list included just four items: sunscreen, bug spray, comfortable clothes, and a business casual outfit.
Some of us (like me) had watched a fewYouTube videos from previous educator workshops, so we had some vague expectations. My roommate and I knew that we would be yelled at, but we didn’t know when that would happen. As we rode the bus to the hotel, we just held our breath in anticipation of when the yelling would begin.
Upon arriving at the hotel, the Marines were all very kind to us. We checked in and had free time until dinner, so I went for a run to see some of the area.
Going for a run around Beaufort, SC
When we piled back onto the white buses to head to Parris Island for the first time for dinner, we were again nervous, waiting for the yelling to begin. We eventually realized that none of that would happen until Wednesday morning. So much worrying for no reason.
One group of educators (28 of us) was from Recruiting Station (RS) New Jersey and the other group was from RS Pennsylvania (30 of them). We had dinner together, along with some of the Marines. We were able to ask any questions that we had while enjoying our meal together.
After dinner, they told us to expect Thursday to be the physically active day. For Wednesday, they just made it clear that we would experience the wrath of the drill instructors. Uh oh.
We rode the bus back to the hotel. I went swimming in the hotel pool, and then hit the sack early since breakfast would be from 5-6am the next morning.
After an early breakfast we loaded onto the buses toward Parris Island. Immediately upon arriving, a female drill instructor boarded the bus and started screaming at us.
She ordered us to get off of the bus and run onto the yellow footprints, leaving no empty spaces between the members of our “platoon.” Even though we knew that we were not actual Marine recruits, the drill instructors were still quite terrifying. The yellow footprints are a significant tradition at Parris Island. Every new recruit steps onto these footprints upon arriving, which means that every Marine who has ever lived has stood either on the footprints in Parris Island, South Carolina, or those in San Diego, California. (Recruits from the east of the Mississippi River head to Parris Island while those west of the Mississippi head to San Diego.)
The first thing we did was head into the first building that the new recruits would enter. We each sat in a small metal desk while we learned about the intake procedures. Each recruit gets just one phone call home to let their families know that they have arrived safely. They get three attempts and if they are unable to reach a loved one, they will try again each day until they are able to relay the message of their safety. After that, there is no contact with anyone from home (other than letters) until the day before graduation (12 weeks later).
After learning about the intake, we asked some questions and were then released back into the hands of the drill instructors. For RS New Jersey, we had Staff Sergeant King and boy, was she intimidating.
“Roust that march!” “Ay, ma’am!”
“Sprint!” “Sprint, ay, ma’am!”
“STOPPPP!” “Stop, ay ma’am!”
She had us lining up in formation, sprinting forward, then turning around to run back to the footprints to line up again. Every time she spoke, we had to scream a response. If it took too long to get back into formation, we ran another sprint. If someone didn’t scream the response loud enough, we would run another sprint. If someone scratched their face, we would run again. “Did I tell you to scratch your face?” “No, ma’am!”
We also had to learn how to count off. So after she yelled some commands, we would kneel down one at a time while calling out our number. There were 28 of us, so whenever the last person said “28,” all of us would yell, “28, done ma’am!” Unfortunately, people kept messing up with the counting and kneeling and yelling back commands, so we went up and down a ton of times. All of us had sore legs and butts the next day.
Then she had us run into the pit. It’s a box of dirty, sand flea-filled sand where the drill instructors command the recruits to go through a series of exercises: running in place, running in place with arms lifted and high knees, push-ups, crunches, mountain climbers, you name it.
We were probably only in the pit for 5-10 minutes, but we were exhausted. People were dripping with sweat. Thanks to the combination of sweat, sunscreen, and bug spray, the sand/dirt from the pit stuck to any exposed skin.
“I need to text my wife and tell her how I don’t know what to expect for the physical day if this is the non-physical day,” said one of the teachers who was regretting his decision to wear jeans on Wednesday.
We then went into one of the barracks to hear from more drill instructors and to ask questions. Most people were hesitant to ask questions around the drill instructors since they were so intimidating when they were yelling at us.
Later, we went into an auditorium, where we would be learning more about the Marines. They explained that we had 5 minutes to “make a head call” if we “desperately” needed it. They use the term “head” to refer to the bathrooms.
I opted not to go to the bathroom since I wasn’t desperate, but then I was soon nervous, wondering when they would offer another head call. I quickly learned to try to go to the bathroom any time they offered it since we never really knew how many hours it would be until we had another chance.
During the presentation, I learned so much about the Marines that I previously had no knowledge of. We heard about the qualifications and how 71% of current high school students are ineligible, for a variety of reasons which may include:
-incidents with the police/law
-low ASVAB scores
-lack of a high school diploma
I had no idea how tough it was to get into the Marines.
We also heard from a woman who explained the educational benefits of the Montgomery GI Bill and the 9/11 GI bill. And we heard from a man who told us about the musicians who are in the Marines and the requirements to enter that program. I had never considered mentioning that as an option to some of my students who are musically inclined, but there are some Marines who are responsible for playing in their bands at various celebrations, ceremonies, and other gatherings.
After that, we had lunch. We got to eat with some of the Marine recruits. It was really nice to be able to speak with them and to ask them questions about their experiences. The Marine who was sitting across the table from me had finished his Crucible a few days prior. He had received his ring and his new uniform and he was very excited to graduate on Friday. His girlfriend’s graduation occurred three days after he started boot camp, so we hadn’t seen her in about six months. He was clearly proud of their accomplishments, yet very humble at the same time.
After lunch we went to learn how to shoot the M16 rifles. First, we tried it indoors on the virtual version. The gun was much heavier than I expected. The Marine who was helping me asked me if I was a lefty or righty. I told him that I wasn’t sure since I do some things lefty, others righty, and I’ve never held a gun before.
He then asked me which eye is my dominant eye.” “Um…I don’t know that either.”
So he told me to squint. Because I immediately shut my right eye, he said that meant that my left eye was my dominant eye. Learn something new every day.
Then it was time to practice shooting the target on the screen. The gun was pretty heavy and my right shoulder is a little bit injured right now, so I took my 3 shots and then gladly put down the gun to pass it off to the next person.
After everyone practiced shooting, we went to the firing range. We learned about safety and then each of us was able to take a turn shooting the real M16. We had the option to shoot standing, kneeling, or prone (laying down). I opted to shoot prone so that I didn’t have to worry about my shoulder and lifting the heavy gun.
We each got to fire 10 shots. There were targets placed in the field anywhere from 100-500 meters away. The first shot I took was a miss, but after that, I did really well, hitting the next shots on targets between 100 and 300 meters away. Once I tried the 400 and 500 meter targets, I missed again.
Most people were really excited to fire the rifles. I’m not really interested in guns, so although I was happy that I performed well, I don’t really feel the need to ever shoot a gun again. We were in a competition between RS New Jersey and RS Pennsylvania to see who could get the most hits. RS Pennsylvania won.
We left the firing range and then headed over to the pool to learn about the swim test. We heard from the MCIWS (Marine Corps Instructors of Water Survival) team. For many recruits, this is the scariest part of boot camp since they don’t know how to swim and may have never had the opportunity to try to swim before.
They said that if a recruit cannot swim physically, that is an easy fix since they just teach them flotation techniques. What is more difficult to overcome is those who cannot swim psychologically because of their fear of the water. If a recruit is unable to pass the test after multiple attempts, he or she will not be able to become a Marine.
The recruits don’t really need to know how to swim well. It’s more about survival than actual swimming. They have to be able to float for a certain amount of time while treading water. They have to be able to remove their gear in the water. They learn how to tie off their pant legs and inflate them with air as a makeshift life vest. It’s not like they are training them to swim laps.
They told us the story of a Marine who fell off of a ship and nobody noticed when it happened. He ended up floating in the middle of the ocean for over two days, surviving as a result of his Marine training and because he was able to inflate his pants to use for flotation.
Then they let us watch instructors go through the tests that the recruits experience.
They also showed us some extra games that the MCIWS instructors do together to try to push themselves and to have a little fun. One guy took two 35-lb kettle bells, jumped into the water, walked all the way across the bottom of the pool and then back to the other side in just one breath.
After that, we drove the buses over to the aviation part of Parris Island. We heard from some Marines who work on the fighter jets (mainly the F18). They also told us about the new F35. Two of the pilots also spoke to us and then they brought us outside to look at the jets.
They let us put on a helmet and climb the ladder to look into the F18, but we weren’t allowed to take any pictures up there.
After that, we went to have dinner. It was a crazy long day, with every minute accounted for. By dinner, I was pretty tired and REALLY hungry. Luckily there was delicious eggplant lasagna as one of the buffet options for dinner.
Many of the teachers wanted a drink, so they were excited to learn that we could go to the officer’s club for drinks. I was tired (and I don’t drink), so I was just ready to get back to the hotel and go to bed.
On Thursday morning, we again had breakfast from 5-6am and loaded up on the buses. I was simultaneously excited and nervous for the day’s activities since I knew that it was our physical day.
First, we got to see the Marines who would be graduating the following morning as they took their motivation run. This was their last workout before graduation and also the first time their families would see them. Since there are so many Marines and they all look very similar, most families probably couldn’t pick out their son or daughter, but the energy was vibrant.
We took a group picture and then we went to the visitors center. I had a chance to speak to the chaplain, which was interesting. She said that they have quite a few conversions because some of the new recruits end up finding their faith as a result of trying to cope with the difficulties that accompany boot camp. She said that she would be performing seven baptisms later that day.
After that, we went to the Marine museum. Then it was time to go to the obstacle course. I was excited for the obstacles since I would be running the Spartan Beast soon after heading back to Jersey.
The first obstacle was a series of logs across other logs. You had to jump on the first horizontal log, then up to the next, and finally up to the third, before bear hugging it, rolling over, and jumping down. This is what it looked like:
Then, we had to run and jump onto this rope and swing across the gravel area:
Then there was an inverted wall. Here, one of the Marines is helping me to get my leg over:
There were also monkey bars and then this balancing log obstacle:
After the obstacles, we had lunch with more Marine recruits. Then it was time for the 50 foot rappel tower. I’m not scared of heights, so I wasn’t as scared as many of the other people in our group, but the tower definitely looked pretty tall.
First, they taught us how to tie the knots for our harness. The Marines checked to make sure that each of us had tied the harnesses properly and then we walked up the steps to the top of the tower.
I stayed close to the front of the line because I didn’t want to have to wait too long for my turn. I knew that the longer I waited, the more nervous I would feel. They ensured us that even if we slipped, we wouldn’t crash down to the ground. Worst case scenario, we would flip upside down, still attached to the harness.
When it was my turn, I intentionally just stepped backward toward the edge of the ledge, not looking at the ground below me. I knew that I would be more scared if I saw how far the ground looked.
When the Marine told me to, I slowly leaned back, still not looking down.
We were told to keep our legs straight. If we bent them, we might end up flipping over. Our left arm was supposed to hold the rope loosely while the right arm was supposed to hold the rope tightly since it was our break hand. As we let go with the right hand, we would start rappelling down. The Marines would rappel really quickly, almost running down the wall. I didn’t want to go that fast, so I never loosened my right hand too much.
I slowly made my way down the wall and it was pretty fun. I’m happy that I went early on because after me, there were a few people who slipped. I saw at lease three or four people flip upside down. I would have been absolutely terrified if that had happened to me and I was hanging upside down at the top of the tower.
After the tower, we went to the gas chambers. First, they asked who wore contacts. I raised my hand. They said that any of us with contacts would have to close our eyes as we walked through the gas chamber. Otherwise, we would get these crystals stuck under our contacts and they said it would hurt even worse when they did whatever was necessary to clean them out.
I had an immediate stomachache because I was so nervous about going into the gas chamber without my eyes open. I had to hold onto the shoulders of the person in front of me. I tried to hold my breath for as long as I could, but I eventually had to breathe. I breathed in through my mouth and immediately felt a burning sensation in my throat and lungs.
We were probably only in the gas chamber for a matter of seconds and I probably only took 2-3 breaths while inside, yet all of us were immediately coughing the moment we exited. People without contacts probably had it worse because their eyes had been open, so they were burning in addition to their noses, throats, and lungs.
They told us to walk around to get fresh air. The gas chamber was pretty painful and the gas wasn’t even on. They said that it was worse for us because it was such a hot day, so the brick building was hot. The gas gets stirred up by people walking through it, so even though it wasn’t on full blast, it was still pretty strong.
The Marine recruits enter the gas chamber with gas masks on. Then they eventually must break the seal, letting the air into their masks in order to get used to training in a chemical situation and not just freaking out. I can’t imagine how strong the gas must feel when it’s on full blast.
After that, we went to see part of the Crucible, the last event that the recruits have to endure before becoming actual Marines. It’s a 54-hour culminating event. We got to participate in more obstacles there. These were team-building obstacles that required everyone to work together in order to accomplish the tasks.
We also got to see the recruits doing some sparring during the Crucible.
From there, we went to a dinner that they were having. Some of the families of the Marines who would be graduating on Friday were there. After dinner, we went to a shop that was on the island and then back to our hotel.
My roommate and I went on a 6 mile run with one of the Marines. The rest of the group had a karaoke night at the hotel bar.
Friday morning we had breakfast and then went to the ceremony where they raised the flag. From there, we went to the graduation ceremony.
It was amazing to realize that they have this same ceremony every Friday for a new group of Marines.
Then we went to the auditorium to talk to the General. We then took pictures with the Marine dog, Legend, and with some of the Marines we had been working with during the workshop.
This woman, staff sergeant King, was the drill instructor for RS New Jersey. By Friday, she was nice to us and speaking normally, but on Wednesday morning, she was completely terrifying with all of the orders she was yelling at us.
We then got some boxed lunches and hopped on the bus for our flights home. I flew from Savannah to North Carolina and then from North Carolina to New Jersey. At Newark, I was picked up by my local Marine recruiter and then brought back home.
Overall, the experience was really awesome. I learned so much about the Marines. I definitely feel better prepared to give advice to some of my students who may be trying to decide whether the military is right for them.
I actually have a student who just told me this week that he signed up for the Marines and he was asking me questions about my experience at the workshop. I like the fact that I can now better understand what he should expect in terms of enlisting and eventually heading off to Parris Island for boot camp.
I would definitely encourage any educator, principal, or guidance counselor to attend the Marine Educator Workshop if they have the opportunity.
I am currently still in a state of shock. I cannot believe the ways that God has blessed me as of late.
I had recently been feeling very stressed financially. For the first time, I owed money back when I completed my taxes. So instead of receiving at least $800 as I had expected, I actually owed $1200.
I was also overwhelmed because I have to decide whether to fix some things on my car or to purchase another used car. Plus, Friday night was one of my payment deadlines for my mission trip to Africa. All of these numbers and bills were piling up and I wasn’t sure if I would have to drain my savings to get by. I felt like maybe instead of volunteering, it would be more prudent to have a summer job, since I technically could work full time in the summer (since I’m a teacher), though I would prefer not to.
I knew somewhere deep in my heart that God would provide, but at the same time, I saw dollar signs looming on the horizon and I couldn’t help feeling worried about it.
Had I made a bad decision in my choice to volunteer in Africa this summer? Maybe I was taking on more than I could handle financially. Should I have opted for a cheaper, week-long mission trip somewhere in South America, which would have been more affordable?
Had I been too lavish in buying mainly organic produce, and meat? Maybe I should risk the health concerns and go back to the antibiotic-infested meat and fish and pesticide-rich fruits and vegetables. I really didn’t want to, but somehow, my finances had become a burden.
A few weeks ago, I was receiving phone calls from Franciscan University, my alma mater. I knew they were calling for donations, as they typically do once a year. I love that school so much, so I donate every year, but this year the timing was less than ideal.
After a week or so of intentionally not answering the phone, I finally picked it up one night, deciding that I needed to show God that I did, in fact, have faith in Him. I couldn’t hoard my income and expect any fruit to come from that. So despite my anxiousness about my finances, I made a donation to Franciscan University.
On a separate occasion, I was listening to my friend on the Catholic radio station. It was their fundraising drive and initially, I planned not to donate because I knew that I already had too much to take care of financially in my own life.
But eventually, something made me realize that I couldn’t have that attitude. I had to give with the faith that things would work out for me in the end if I could be generous to those who needed it.
And sure enough, that is exactly what happened.
By Friday evening (April 22nd), I needed a certain amount of money in my account for my mission trip to Uganda, followed by the final payment that was due by May 22nd.
All day, I left the donation page open on my computer, knowing that I would have to just put the amount (over $1500) on my credit card and hope that I would be able to raise some more money in the future.
That evening, almost immediately before I was about to put it on my credit card, I received a phone call from my mom that a family member of mine was interested in helping to make a substantial donation to my trip.
I almost burst out crying. I am beyond humbled right now and incredibly gracious.
I feel so guilty for the amount of stress I have been experiencing lately with regard to my financial situation. I should have maintained my faith in God, but I just kept doubting myself and my choices.
Yesterday during Mass, I couldn’t stop smiling and thanking God for His abundant blessings.
I am so glad that I made those donations to Franciscan and the Catholic radio station (in addition to my regularly scheduled donations, like the monthly $38 that goes to my sponsored child in Rwanda through Compassion International.)
When we give, we also receive. That is so true in this very moment.
At the time that I signed up for the mission trip to Uganda, I truly felt that was my calling. I absolutely love having a teacher’s schedule so that I can travel to volunteer each summer. I have been blessed to experience a variety of mission trips serving in Ecuador, Haiti, Rwanda, and Nicaragua. When deciding where to go this summer, the description of the Uganda trip immediately stood out to me.
We will be working in a children’s detention facility through Sixty Feet (prisons, the justice system, and justice reform is something that I care about quite a bit). Then we will be working with Sole Hope, which holds medical clinics to remove jiggers from the feet of children (and adults) who have been infested. It then provides them with shoes.
Everyone is on this earth with a certain calling. One of my callings is to teach. Another is to volunteer, specifically overseas, which is something that many people are afraid of, or simply uninterested in.
I regret how I had been second guessing my decision to join this mission trip because of finances and I am now more confident than ever that God has had a hand in forming this team and that there is a specific reason why that trip is the one that stood out to me.
I am absolutely astounded by the way everything happened this weekend. I am beyond grateful to everyone who made a contribution to this trip. I have received donations from close loved ones, to anonymous donors, to people who I have never met, but they know one of my friends of family members. I am completely humbled by all of the support and I will continue to keep all of my donors in my prayers as I prepare for this mission trip.
In the end, God has our backs in every situation. He is there for us and if we are able to accept that help and turn to Him when we are in need, we will reap great blessings.
We must give without knowing whether it’s a prudent financial decision because He will pay us back in ways we cannot even imagine. We must maintain our generosity even when it seems most difficult to do so.
“Give generously to him and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to.” – Deuteronomy 15:10
“Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it.” – Proverbs 3:27
I have been hearing lately about the desperate situations in which many people in eastern Africa are currently finding themselves due to famine as well as violence. Most of this information I have come across because I follow the Machine Gun Preacher’s Facebook page after having found myself very interested in his organization, Angels of East Africa, which helps those suffering, after watching the film Machine Gun Preacher with Gerard Butler. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it. The Machine Gun Preacher, Sam Childers, started out by choosing to go to Sudan to rescue children from the LRA and Joseph Kony. These children were taken from their families, often forced to kill their own parents, and then were trained to kill.
I could go on forever about Sam Childers, but that isn’t the point here. If I had not been following him on social media, I would have been like one of many Americans who are completely unaware of the current devastation in Africa.
There are also major problems occurring in Syria due to their current civil war. There are tons of Syrian refugees right now.
There was also a recent situation where 40 or more Somalian refugees headed for Yemen were killed by an air strike.
Many people here in the United States fail to pay attention to the news at all. However, even those who try to maintain an awareness of the world around them may have missed what is happening in countries like Somalia right now.
Why? Because American news sources are doing a poor job reporting much about it. Even the world news sources aren’t paying as much attention as they should be. Here is a look at some recent headlines from the home pages of these news sources from Saturday, March 18th, 2017.
New York Times:
Okay, you get the idea.
Out of all of those sources, Al Jazeera was the only one that mentioned the problems in Syria. The crises in Somalia and Syria are devastating right now. There are people dying every day. Yet out of four major news sources, only one of them mentioned it on their home page. I could have guessed that it wasn’t going to be the American news source.
Now, what would happen if I specifically looked for world news within these same sources? (I skipped Al Jazeera this time since all of their news is world news.)
NY Times world news:
CNN News world news:
Yep, just what I suspected. Even the world news sections fail to mention the travesties taking place right now in countries like Somalia and Syria.
Yesterday, I was watching Casey Neistat’s video and it gave me some hope that although our news sources do a pitiful job informing Americans about certain problems in the world, maybe other famous people can do the job. Casey Neistat gained popularity for his YouTube vlogs. In this video, he mentions a project that his friend, Jerome Jarre (famous on Vine and Snapchat) came up with, with the help of actor Ben Stiller.
Jerome decided to look into what it would take to get a Turkish Airlines flight to be loaded with food to bring to Somalia to help the many who are starving right now as a result of their famine. Fortunately, Turkish Airlines agreed to work with them.
Here is the video:
Casey Neistat posted his video yesterday, March 17th. It is currently March 18th at 2pm and the $1 million goal was not only met, but exceeded:
That is absolutely incredible. They were able to raise over one million dollars to help those dying of starvation in less than 24 hours. As of right now, there were 42,186 donations. Many of the donations are small amounts. $5 here, $8 there. Obviously there were some larger donations as well, but this goes to show how far a small amount of money can go. It also shows that people do care to aid those in need if they were just aware of the situation and given a way to help.
Why must it take people like a random Vine star to bring awareness to issues like this? Shouldn’t we already know about these sorts of problems from our news sources? From our president?
Despite my frustration regarding the media, stories like this give me hope. Maybe the news outlets will cover the story because Casey Niestat and Ben Stiller are involved, which will provide even more awareness about the issues.
I know that it is easy to get wrapped up in our own little circle of friends and family, to only pay attention to local news that affects us directly. I am guilty of this myself at times. But we have to remember that even when our problems seem like a major burden, we are blessed to be living in a country in which most of us do not find it difficult to meet our basic needs.
We are rarely, if ever, in a situation where life or death is dependent upon whether or not we are able to find a source of water. We do not have to hide in the bush while the LRA soldiers come looking to kidnap our children, rape our women, and murder or mutilate the rest of us. We do not have to fear that the next thunderstorm may decimate our home. If we get diarrhea, it’s an inconvenience, but not a death sentence.
I am thankful to be an American, but America, I expect more of you. I know that people are up in arms about some of the things that Donald Trump has been doing lately. I can assure you that I am not his biggest fan.
But despite all of that, we must remember that at this moment, someone in Somalia is taking his or her last breath, simply because he or she has gone too many days without a bite to eat or a sip of water.
Lately, I have been seeing articles about students and parents outraged over the dress codes at their schools and how sexist they are. People have begun fighting back against these dress codes since there are more rules for the girls to follow.
Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, ladies, but let’s take a trip back to anatomy class: you have more private parts that need covering than men, plain and simple. Nothing about the dress code in most schools is sexist. Schools simply wants both male and female students to dress modestly and appropriately.
Let’s take a look at common dress codes and determine if any of the requirements are, in fact, sexist:
–No exposed stomachs. Boys don’t typically wear belly shirts, but if they wanted to, they couldn’t, just like the girls.
–No exposed backs. Again – boys don’t tend to wear backless shirts, but if they did, they would be breaking school policy just like the girls. I’ve seen male students wear those workout tank tops where they basically cut the sides off of a regular t-shirt. It exposes their whole side from their armpit down to their hip. They get in trouble for those shirts just like a girl would get in trouble for a backless shirt.
–No cleavage. Men don’t really have cleavage, so it’s not sexist, it’s just the reality of female versus male anatomy. Guys aren’t typically wearing low-cut shirts anyway. If they were, then they would be breaking the dress code.
–No spaghetti straps, tube tops, or halter tops. I’ve never seen a guy wear a spaghetti strap tank top, but that wouldn’t be allowed either. As a teacher, I would never wear a shirt like that without a sweater on top. It’s not appropriate. Students should learn that there are settings in which they can wear that type of attire, but that they must also dress appropriately when the occasion calls for it.
-No leggings as pants. As a teacher, I really appreciate this rule. Do you know how many girls wear thin or worn out leggings and don’t realize that their striped, polka dotted, or floral underwear is clearly visible to everyone around them thanks to the florescent lights? Or worse, the tiny thongs that my female students were wearing under their leggings was also visible. It’s awkward to see that. Do I tell my student that her underwear is showing? Or does she know and not care? Or do I just ignore it and act like I don’t see it?
Leggings should not count as pants. They’re fine for the gym or lounging around on the weekend, but they aren’t school appropriate. Boys definitely stare at girls’ butts when they are wearing leggings. Do we really need those extra distractions in school? In most schools, teachers aren’t allowed to wear leggings as pants either. I am in no way offended by that. Leggings are skin-tight. Every piece of fat, muscle, or panty-line is visible. They simply aren’t appropriate workplace attire.
I still wouldn’t call this sexist, since boys also wouldn’t be allowed to wear leggings as pants either. Girls would probably be staring at the boys butts (or more than just that) if the boys were wearing leggings to school. They’re distracting to both genders. It just so happens that leggings aren’t popular for most males.
–No vulgar shirts. This rule bans shirts with any vulgar language, drug or alcohol references, or inappropriate images. I tend to see more boys who wear these types of shirts, but still, this has nothing to do with gender.
–No hats. No gender is being discriminated against here. I make both my male and female students remove their hats and hoods.
An article from Teen Vogue asserts that these rules are sexist and that while it’s true that boys become distracted by some of the girls’ clothing items, it’s something that they need to learn to get used to since it’s a part of life.
I disagree. Sure, there will be distractions, but do they have to be a part of our schools? Absolutely not.
I know from male teachers that they feel very uncomfortable when their female high school students are wearing tiny shorts or skirts, or have half of their breasts exposed for the world to see. They don’t want to get caught staring. But even as a female teacher, it’s sometimes hard to avoid staring when a 16 year old girl walks into my room dressed in an outfit that would be appropriate only for a nightclub. I don’t want to see her butt hanging out of the bottom of her shorts, even though it’s not something that would ever turn me on. It’s shocking, so most people would do a double take.
The article says that these dress codes “reinforce a message you’re already constantly given outside of school: the way you look is more important than your education. Of all places, a school should make sure it values a girl’s chance to learn over her appearance.”
No, not quite. Rather, they teach students that beach attire is appropriate for just that — the beach. In most schools, girls can still wear shorts and tank tops, if the shorts aren’t super short and the tank tops have more than a thin spaghetti strap. When they have a job one day, we want our students to understand that their sexy nightclub outfit might not be fitting to deal with customers while working retail, let alone entering a more formal profession.
Why are people not arguing that these dress codes are sexist in the work setting? Because they realize that we need some sort of standard to follow. Is it a crime to see a glimpse of a girl’s back when her shirt slides up a little too far? No. But where is the line? With the completely backless shirts that exist nowadays, we need some rule in place for our students.
The same is true for prom dresses. It is now popular for girls to wear two-piece dresses, where the top is little more than the size of a sports bra, with a completely bare back and stomach. Some of these dresses have a tiny little portion of the midriff exposed, but students are always pushing the envelope, looking for sexier dresses, so many schools had to ban two-piece dresses altogether.
Others are completely backless, or have huge cut-outs. While that may be acceptable on the red carpet, our high school juniors and seniors are 16-18 years old. There is no need for them to be showing off their whole body. Small cut-outs aren’t a major problem, but again, students take things to the extreme.
Modesty should not come with such a negative connotation. There are plenty of gorgeous gowns that still leave something to the imagination.
It amazes me when parents fight back against these rules. Why would you want your 14 year old daughter to expose her body? You’re so mad that she can’t show her cleavage that you want to fight the school board? Maybe you should put your time into helping her to excel in her classes and work on her career goals instead.
Students go to school to learn. There is no need for such sexy clothing in the school environment.
Dress codes are there for a good reason — to remind students that their number one job at this point is to be just that — students. They are not at the club or at the beach. They are in school to learn how to be productive citizens of the world and with being a productive citizen comes the ability to distinguish which attire is appropriate for which setting.
I previously wrote a post about My White Privilege about a year ago. This year, I used a new textbook for my AP English Language & Composition class. We were working on the gender unit when I stumbled upon a new text that I assigned my students to read for homework last week.
It’s entitled “Just Walk on By” by Brent Staples, which is a piece in his memoir, Parallel Time: Growing up in White and Black (published in 1994).Here is an excerpt:
“At night, I walked to the lakefront whenever the weather permitted. I was headed home from the lake when I took my first victim. It was late fall, and the wind was cutting. I was wearing my navy pea jacket, the collar turned up, my hands snug in the pockets. Dead leaves scuttled in shoals along the streets. I turned out of Blackstone Avenue and headed west on 57th Street, and there she was, a few yards ahead of me, dressed in business clothes and carrying a briefcase. She looked back at me once, then again, and picked up her pace. She looked back again and started to run. I stopped where I was and looked up at the surrounding windows. What did this look like to people peeking out through their blinds? I was out walking. But what if someone had thought they’d seen something they hadn’t and called the police. I held back the urge to run. Instead, I walked south to The Midway, plunged into the darkness, and remained on The Midway until I reached the foot of my street.
“I’d been a fool. I’d been walking the streets grinning good evening at people who were frightened to death of me. I did violence to them by just being. How had I missed this?”
In his piece, he explains how he is viewed as a criminal before he commits any crime. Being a black man is his only crime.
Staples is a well-educated man who has a PhD in psychology, yet he will continue to be viewed as a criminal based solely on the color of his skin and his gender. It is now 2017, but being a black man still comes with many negative connotations that I will never be able to fully understand as a white woman.
My students have very diverse backgrounds. In the one class in which I was teaching this piece last week, I only had two male students present, and one of them was a tall, black male. He is an extremely polite young man. He’s a good student with a great work ethic. He plays on the football and basketball teams. But he expressed agreement with the author’s assertions, providing instances when had been viewed as a criminal or a thug simply because he is a tall black male. He even described some frightening instances in which police officers acted aggressively toward him or his family despite no crime having taken place.
Reading “Just Walk on By,” my heart breaks for a few reasons.
First, it is such a pity that this is still a problem in the year 2017. Things have obviously progressed since the times of slavery and legalized segregation, but we cannot be content with the way things sit right now. Relative to the 1950s, we’re living in a utopia for African Americans. But that means very little.
It also frustrates me because I know that many white people deny their white privilege, which just perpetuates the problem. It does exist and it must be addressed. Denying white privilege does not do any good. Accepting it does not mean that you are racist. I know that I have white privilege. Although I am half Brazilian, which could in some cases cause people to view me a bit differently, I appear on the outside as a typical white girl — blonde hair, blue eyes. I am not intimidating. I do not look like a criminal. By accepting my white privilege, I am not saying that I am better than anyone. Instead, I am acknowledging the fact that society puts me on a pedestal. I am not feared. My intelligence and education are not questioned. I am not given second glances by the police.
And last, my heart breaks in knowing that I will never understand what it feels like to be in the position of Brent Staples or my student who related to the piece. I cannot fathom walking down the street and seeing people cast back second glances, quickening their pace, locking their car doors, or crossing over to the other side of the road to get away from me. I cannot imagine how it must feel to be feared simply because of being.
Staples says how it was at twenty-two years old when he “first began to know the unwieldy inheritance [he’d] come into–the ability to alter public space in ugly ways.” He continues to say that it was “clear that I was indistinguishable from the muggers who occasionally seeped into the area from the surrounding ghetto.”
Those who deny white privilege must not understand the recent problems regarding police brutality. It is undeniable that a black person who is stopped by a police officer must act extra kind, polite, and gentle. And even if he does, there is still the chance of a wrongful conviction, or even death, simply because of his skin color.
Our society teaches us that the black male must be feared. This is what we grow up being brainwashed by each day, mainly through the news and media. Although Staples probably feels some frustration when people fear him, he understands and sympathizes for them. He acknowledges that the “danger they perceive is not a hallucination. Women are particularly vulnerable to street violence, and young black makes are drastically overrepresented among the perpetrators of that violence. Yet these truths are no solace against the kind of alienation that comes of being ever the suspect, against being set apart, a fearsome entity with whom pedestrians avoid making eye contact.”
My student is only 17 years old and he is already aware of this reality. He was born into a body which will benefit him on the court and on the football field. His mind and intelligence will be an asset through his schooling and future career, but ultimately, because of his body, he will be feared and judged without reason.
Staples explains how he eventually “began to take precautions to make [himself] less threatening.” He says that he is careful where he walks, especially at night. He tries to leave enough space between other people so that he does not feel as threatening to them.
My student actually admitted to doing similar things. He told our class how he often notices people glancing behind at him, checking his proximity. He said that he will sometimes cross the street to walk on the other side on purpose so that the person in front of him does not feel threatened.
I will never be able to relate to that. Why? Because I am white.
I am able to greet people I cross paths with on the street without them feeling unnerved. I will probably not be mistaken for a criminal simply because I walked too close to a crime scene and was assumed to be connected.
I love my job as a teacher, mainly for all of the connections that I am able to make with my students. But along with those connections comes emotional grief. It pains me to know that for this young black student, it does not really matter how much I teach him, or where he goes to college; he will not be able to change the body he was born into.
Can he accomplish great things? Absolutely. But unless this world changes, he will have a more difficult time achieving greatness than if he had been born a white male. I know the shameful truth that in many situations, he will be viewed as a lesser version of a white male who has the same education, grades, and work ethic.
Maybe his height, size, and even race give him an advantage with football or basketball. Some would say that his race could get him into college more easily thanks to affirmative action. But depending on his career goals, he will have to work so much harder than his white counterpart to achieve similar end results.
Some people like to say that this isn’t really true in America in 2017. After all, we had a black president, didn’t we? But one black president mean does not nullify the existence of racism and privilege.
I don’t know Obama’s full life story. But I am sure that he had to work tooth and nail to achieve the success that he did. The same is true for his wife, Michelle.
Neither of her parents had graduated from college, and some of her high school teachers even tried to convince her not to apply to Princeton because they believed that she was setting her goals too high. She had to earn her respect as an intelligent woman despite her race.
Growing up without much money, I had an intense drive to succeed, to get through college, and to begin my career as a teacher. I know that I worked hard in college, but did I have it a little easier because I was white? I believe so. Had I been black, I would have had to work even harder to prove myself equal to those around me in my schooling and college. The intelligent black male or female is still viewed today as the exception, not the norm.
Admitting your white privilege does not make you racist. It doesn’t make you the bad guy.
Instead, it means that you are aware that you were born into some level of privilege simply because of your skin color.
It means that you have a responsibility to admit and remember this fact so that you can work towards changing the status quo.
It means that you must use that privilege to enlighten those around you about that fact so that we can one day find equality.
I am a white woman. I was born into a body that does not lead to doors being shut simply because of my appearance. The same is not true for all of the babies being born into black bodies at this very moment. They will face bigger obstacles than me for no reason other than the color of their skin. That is the reality of white privilege.