That One Time "Fresh Prince" Made Me Cry

It is no secret that I grew up living with my grandmother, who I love and who loves me more than anything. For most of my life my grandma has been my best friend. But at the same time, growing up with her meant I had to grow up without my parents, and very recently it hit me that this fact that I had kind of brushed off for a very long time really hurt. It hurts that people talk about what jobs their parents have and I can't do that. That most girls I know will be given away by their fathers at their weddings and I won't, little things that shouldn't matter, really do, and it is way more painful than I thought it would be, coming to terms with this fact.

What does Fresh Prince have to do with this? There is an episode where Will's dad comes back and then leaves him again at the end of the episode. Which prompts this:

"You know what, Uncle Phil? I'm gonna get through college without him, I'm gonna great job without him, Ima marry me a beautiful hunny and have me a whole bunch of kids. Ima be a better father than he ever was, and I sure as hell don't need him for that. Cause there ain't a damn thing he could ever teach me about how to love my kids! How come he don't want me, man?"

Every single time I watch that scene I cry because I know that feeling. I've given myself that same speech so many times in my life that it's become a constant, running thought, especially when I'm around other people and their parents. And I always ALWAYS ask myself what I did to make them leave. It always ends with asking myself why am I not good enough? Could I be better? Will they love me and come back for me if I do things differently? 

And that's terrible. Those are such toxic thoughts to have. Because underneath those questions is the truth. That nothing that I could have done or can do will bring them back and wouldn't have made them stay. Yes, I still wonder why they gave me up, especially on lonely nights like tonight, but I've also learned that without them leaving I probably wouldn't have lived the life I've lived and I wouldn't be where I am today. 

Yes, it still hurts. Yes, I'm always going to wonder. But at the same time, would them staying make life any better? I know that there are many more people on this planet who find worth in my being, so I need to focus on that more than I focus on the one person who should have cared and didn't. 

Why The Media Should Keep Their Sticky Little Fingers Off of Mass Murders

In the wake of one of the most shocking mass murders of my life, and the second one in just a few short months, the new stations all over the country are running non stop coverage of Newton, CT and releasing news about Adam Lanza, the killer, every time a minuscule amount of anything is revealed about him. Just some facts I learned about him this morning: he was home schooled after 10th grade and before that he was in the Tech Club. Now I know that this a tragedy, especially where the families of the victims are concerned, but this constant and undiluted coverage of the Sandy Hook tragedy is actually hurting more than its helping.

As it turns out, giving a murderer weeks of publicity on television, in papers, and in popular magazines - let's not even kid ourselves Time is bound to do an article on this - is actually a bad thing, because then he turns into this person of infamy, a celebrity for all the wrong reasons, and someone out there will want to be just like that. According to Forensic Psychologist Dr. Park Dietz mass coverage of murders is exactly what's propagating them. "Because every time we have intense, saturated coverage of a murder, we expect to see on or two more within a week."

For proof of Dr. Dietz's statement look to the case of Joseph Wesbecker and Patrick Purdy. In 1989 Purdy received prolonged attention after he firebombed his car, killed five elementary school children, wounded 29 more along with a teacher with an AKS and then killed himself with a 9 mm gun. Originally the story didn't get much coverage. But as time went on, the story got bigger and bigger, and pointed out the similarities between this murder and several others.

In September of the same year Wesbecker, a recently released mental patient, armed with the same weapons as Purdy walked into Standard Gravure Co., killed eight people and wounded 13. Upon investigation of Wesbecker's belongings clippings of the articles about Purdy were found, along with other articles about mass murders. Wesbecker's entire plan that day was based off of the crime that Purdy had committed 8 months beforehand. The media's coverage of Purdy had created a copy-cat killer.

The media can actually be credited with creating copycat killers all the way back in the early 1900's. Jack the Ripper was running around killing people and becoming infamous for it. During that time, all the media coverage of his crimes created a string of people who imitated Jack - only they usually got caught. There was a more recent copycat of Jack the Ripper, also. Fortunately he was caught.

The same thing happened during the time when the Zodiac Killer was in his/her heyday. So much attention was given the case that 20 years later Eddie Seda decided to use him/her as inspiration and was arrested after being found guilty of Zodiac style murders.

And then in the 90's a string of school shootings all eerily similar to each other spanned the country. In fact, between 1983 and 2008 50 shootings have occurred inside schools, all with similarities to each other, including the Columbine Massacre, an incident that was mostly played out on television which raised the question: would a televised mass murder contribute to copy cat killings? I think we have our answer.

After the Virginia Tech shootings and the weeks long coverage of the event and specials on the killer, Northern Illinois University canceled classes after a threat referencing Virginia Tech was found in a bathroom stall, BU and University of Cincinnati students were arrested for threatening to wreak such havoc that VT would be "pale in comparison." Why? Because the killer, and the event (which is currently ranked as the deadliest shooting in the United States) went down in infamy. And infamy still warrants mass amounts of attention. If the event had been localized and not given hours of coverage by the News, it is likely that this wouldn't have happened. In fact, associate professor of psychology Danny Axsom noted that the greater the amount of publicity a particularly criminal act receives, the greater the potential is for copycat versions of the same event to occur.

Even Adam Lanza's crime has signs of a copycat murder. In my mind, Lanza, Purdy, and every other school shooter have pretty similar crimes, all happening in schools with assault weapons, and ending in their eventual suicides. And why? Why? Because the news can't find anything better to talk on. Useless footage of killers doing sports or menial day to day activities suddenly hold the marks of a murderer. But then their every move is plastered across the news screens for everyone to see, those who can watch it and feel sorry for the people involved and those who want the same amount of infamy and decide to recreate the crime somehow.

Eventually the names of the victims are forgotten. But the killers, who go down in infamy, become immortal. Lizzie Bordon, Jack the Ripper, Charles Manson, The Zodiac Killer, The Green River Killer, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, those are names people remember. Because the media made a huge deal out of them, and while the victims names were once mentioned, more is made of the killer than the victims because how could someone do something so terrible?

Well they probably got their ideas watching the news.

Labels.

Our world is full of labels. There are labels that come from the lifestyles one leads, relationship statuses,  the hobbies one partakes in, and some unfortunate people are labeled only by the opinion the general populous has of them.

But lets take a moment and examine why these labels are necessary. I mean honestly, I already have a name. It's Alexis Olmstead and I would prefer it if that was my identifier. Not "that geeky cheerleader" or "theatre nerd" or "Wanda's granddaughter" or "Russell's daughter" or "Drew's girlfriend". Because while I'm all of those things and more, I feel like they simplify me down to one thing. I'm not only a cheerleader, or theatre brat or family member of more recognizable people or girlfriend of a very fortunate Mac Man, but I'm also bookish, eccentric (or just plain weird), outgoing, easily amused, moody, loud, quiet, the list of my qualities goes on and on. But too often people's qualities and hobbies become the box they are stuck in. This is also true of one's religion, sexual orientation, political affiliation, socioeconomic class, and IQ. What once started out as part of a person become that whole being.

What happened to the whole sum of our parts thing? Sum, not exclusive choice of the most obvious one.

But what really irritates me the most about labels or identifiers, is that a lot of times they come from a negative direction and they are unwanted by the person they are thrust upon, like the nickname Lex Luther that some random guy plastered on me one day during study period. I mean, yeah, being labeled as a cheerleader sucks when the only connotation of it is a negative one with airhead being a synonym, but I can't imagine what being called a queer or something worse on a daily basis feels like.

Believe it or not, the labels we thrust upon people are very often the labels that make them decide to hate themselves. The girl you decide is a slut today could be the suicide case on page 5 tomorrow. Obviously I'm dealing in extremes here, but even the extreme has a possibility to happen.

So let's not label people, okay? Put the label gun down and see people for their qualities and not their identifiers.

My Killer Hair

My mane devours hair ties.
It chews up ponytail holders and spits them out.
When hair ties get put in my hair, they know they're tying hair on borrowed time.
No longer will they be worn around wrists,
traded among friends,
or hide in the corners of my duffel bag purses,
they sign that all away when they realize its my scalp they're approaching.

"Give my love to Janice, I hear she's Katy Perry's favorite hair tie,
Give my no-slip grip dress to Charice,
She's next."

My hair is to hair ties what The Fates are to man.
Once I purchase a new package, the string is cut short.
None last more than two hours before being torn in half,
And I, desensitized to the masses of casualties from my hair,
Toss lifeless hair ties into the garbage can, never to tie again.

"Murderer!" Hair ties scream at me while they strain to secure my 'do.
"I'm sorry," my hair whispers back. She knows not what she does.

My mane weeps as a green victim tightly wraps itself around a messy bun.
"Never let me go." The hair tie cries.
"I promise." Says my hair, even more voluminous than usual.
My hair is big, because its so full of lies.
And then, the last hair tie breaks.

My hair is a murderer and the body count just keeps growing.

A Criticism of Modern Day Colloquies and Literature

While at an international student event with my roommate and friends on Wednesday I encountered not one, but two really great conversations that led to this post. One was about literature, one was about conversation, and both of them were based off of the point that in today's world, words are quickly losing meaning. I could talk about this in one of two ways, eloquently and maturely, like the title suggests I might, or with children's stories that I make up on the spot. Seeing as I think everything can be explained with a good children's story, I think I shall choose the latter of the two.

Conversation: Back in the time before internet, computers, or modern phones, people really knew how to talk to each other. You may think that people talk now more than ever because there are things like texting and Facebook to keep the world connected, but really, that's not talking. That's people exchanging shortened versions of words back and forth that rarely mean anything. But back in your grandparent's time, a group of people could sit in a room together and have a conversation based on something besides what they saw on the internet. A conversation that meant something. And since there was no texting or emails or Facebook chat they wrote letters, and everything they said meant something because letters took so long to get from one place to another. Words were used and not wasted. But then along came internet and cellphones and basically modern technology and phrases such as "k" and "lol" were accepted as parts of conversation. When talking with people it was very easy to bring up Facebook in normal conversation, and social networking sites were impossible to stay away from in day to day exchanges. This would not necessarily be a bad thing, if a devolution of vocabulary hadn't simultaneously occurred. To show you what I mean, I present: a sample conversation. 

How R U?

Gr8. U?

Ok. 

Where u @?

skool. 

k c u in a sec. :)

 You may not believe me, but people really talk like that now. What happened to great conversations where all included parties departed with new wisdom? I'm not saying that these conversations still don't happen, but  they aren't as prevalent, and in my experience most conversation today is a contest who can talk the most and say the least at the same time. Let's change that, world. Let's bring back communication that doesn't exclusively happen through technology. Technology is a barrier to communication and the only way to break it down is through face to face interaction having a conversation about the news, the weather (it's snowing), sports, intellectual pursuits, life, and good literature. 

Speaking of good literature, let's talk about how bad writing has gotten recently. Since when is it okay for a poorly written BDSM Twilight fan fiction to end up topping the New York Best Seller list? In fact, it topped best seller lists around the world! Let me revise that. Since when is it okay that the entire erotic series be on the top of the NY Best Seller List? That spot used to be saved for books that actually meant something and were well written to boot. Think Ernest Hemingway, Neil Gaiman, Stephen King, John Grisham, Kurt Vonnegut, J.K. Rowling, Tolkien, and that's only a sampling. What's more, how did Twilight end up on the best seller list? Okay, I know how, it sold a lot of books. But why? It's poorly written, with a sketchy, predictable plot, and a million other things that are just awful. People are accepting rot for literature, and it needs to stop. I am all for modern literature, don't get me wrong. Looking for Alaska is one of my favorite books, and I would think that it's pretty modern. The Harry Potter Series grew along with an entire generation of people world wide, and there are so many more examples of great novels that have been written with the "modern literature" category that was born between the late 19th and early 20th centuries. 

However, the "they don't make 'em like they used to sentiment" greatly applies here. Where literature is concerned, books should be written for quantitative purposes, not qualitative. It's wonderous if a particular author has published at least 154 sonnets, but if none of those sonnets are very good, why even publish them*? A good book should teach the reader something. Books have the power to inspire and teach, to leave the reader with a new perspective on life, and potentially to change a life. with the books being published recently, that's not going to happen.

Why do I say this? Well, here's my reasoning. Recently I watched a video about writing and how every new writer goes through a period of "sucking" or just generally being a bloody terrible author. As aspiring (or new) authors everyone needs to embrace that period of time and realize that even though you have a potentially great story doesn't mean you should just throw it out into the world poorly written and underdeveloped. Authors need to give themselves time to suck, and embrace the suckiness of their writing along with it. Practice, spend years developing books, ideas, plots, characters, doing research and then, THEN great modern literature will potentially be born.

These observations have been made through my literature snob lenses, but I can't help but thinking that there is some validity to them. As a community we can only hope to move forward with literature and conversation, lest the world ends up like a scene from Idiocracy. 

*If you realized I was referencing Shakespeare, find me. We're best friends now. Also, in case you were wondering, all 154 of those sonnets were golden.

So...About Taylor Swift....

She's pretty, she's got catchy music, parents want their little girls to look up to her because in interviews she preaches acceptance and being confident in oneself and yada yada yada.

But let's look at the More-Pop-Than-Country Princess from a different perspective. T. Swifty is actually a tad bit of a hypocrite. And by a tad bit, I mean, she's a big hypocrite, and also, she's a slut shamer, which isn't really that great either. In fact, I have a few reasons why I don't really like Taylor Swift and I know there may be a lot of disagreement

First let's look at the hypocrisy angle. On her album "Speak Now" her song "Mean" is all about being oh so done with a person with a person who is absolutely terrible to her, and making sure that they know someday they will regret treating her so badly and talking smack about her music. Yeah, cool. Empowering. But it is quickly followed by another song that is all about a girl who stole her boyfriend, and she's "better known for the things she does on the mattress." That's not nice, AND its slut shaming. Yeah, maybe she does have a lot of sex. But why do you care, Taylor? And also, if I recall, "You Belong With Me" is a whole song about how much you want to steal some girls boyfriend. So why is it okay for you to do it? There's this thing called "The Golden Rule" and you should look it up. Because you obviously forgot all about it, or never learned it or something, I don't even know.

Ugh. I can't believe you wore those heels. So terrible.

I don't know Taylor, those are awfully short

Also, on the "You Belong With Me" note, in that song she criticizes the other girl for wearing short skirts and high heels, as well as being a cheerleader. Let's take a moment to point out what Taylor Swift usually wears, because its not jeans and sneakers. In fact, in most of her appearances, Taylor is usually sporting a shorter dress and some very over the top heels. I actually don't care, because I think she has a cute style. But you can't criticize females for wearing something and then go and wear it....also. And why does what a girl wear and what activities she participates in determine her morality? Obviously the band geeky, glasses wearing, bench warming version of Taylor in the YBWM video is more deserving of male attention because you're not a harlot like that other girl....I mean, if its okay for you to be a girly girl, why can't she? I don't get it. I have many other issues with that song like how it casts cheerleaders in the negative role (again) as well as any girl who embraces her sexuality, but we'll let this argument go to bed.

I'm also just really sick of her music that is overplayed and all the same. She has made a living off of writing trash talk set to music and most of it involves the virgin/whore dichotomy. And in the chance it doesn't involve that, there is either a break-up involved, or she's demonstrating her superb clinginess as a girlfriend. And in the event that she's pining after someone, she writes music about stealing someone's man. But as stated before, she really doesn't like it when people do that to her. But I doubt she'll be finding a new song topic soon, so we're doomed to hear her make the same mistakes over and over again. As VH1 put it

"She’s like one breathless, blond version of Groundhog Day – every time we see her she’s doing the same exact thing, and it’s grown damn old real fast."

         - Kate Spencer for VH1

On a really nit picky note, she also uses being a homosexual as an insult in her popular song "Picture to Burn". Not okay. I mean, you could spread all sorts of rumours about this guy who dumped you, but why are you resorting to telling people he's gay? First of all, I don't see how that's an issue, and second of all, you could be coming up with an actual reason to stay away from him, like, he has crabs or something. Let's be creative here, Tay.

And say what you want, but when I like an artist, I expect them to be just as good live as they are on the album that I spend my hard earned money. But that's just not true with Taylor Swift. Does anyone recall the time when she sang with the legendary Stevie Nicks and was off-key the entire time? Or how about any concert that she has ever sung at and been flat. Seriously girl. You write the music. You should be able to sing it. ESPECIALLY when they stick Stevie Nicks behind you. I wasn't okay with that arrangement in the first place, but you just made it worse.

And how many times can she make that face? You KNOW what I'm talking about. Cool, you won an award, but once you win I don't know. twenty seven in the same night, the face gets a tad old. And not to mention, fake. It's like when the most popular girl in the school wins prom queen and acts surprised. Its a bit patronizing and I know I'm not the only who is tired of it. Well, that and you flipping your hair around. How many more times are you going to do that? Because I'm waiting for you to severely hurt your neck or something. Just be careful, and hopefully you have a person holding a neck brace on standby.

Essentially, my dislike of Taylor comes from deep seeded hatred of hypocrisy and monotony. There I said it. And that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

These Are The Moments....

There are moments that I will never forget. These moments, glued into my mind like photos into a scrapbook, range from a simple look that was exchanged between two parties, to a decision that completely altered the way I live my life. In there is one hug, standing on a manhole covering, another is the first time I ever met my best friend. A lot of them are nights I spent doing absolutely nothing with the people I love most, and about twenty five percent of them are car rides with my grandma, listening to music, talking about life, and drinking coffee. Those memories are my magical summers, and my sunshine after the storm moments, they are times when I thought all hope was lost and then something happened to make it all better, and at least one of them is a kiss (and no, it’s not my first kiss, which was actually on stage). 

Five to ten of them happened in a theatre, one of them happened while I was in front of a camera, and another three while I was behind it. Sometimes there are no pictures with the memories, just smells. Like the smell after it rained for the first time after I got removed from my mother’s care. It smelled of clean - per usual - but that time it meant something different. It meant that I was clean too. That I was finally free of her grasp on my life and that’s why when it rained while I was walking home from school the next day I let it drench me. All the bad times were being washed away. It was beautiful. One of them happened tonight. It was a moment when I felt completely safe and realized that I should be allowed to feel that more often. 

But tonight I realized that most of them are really seemingly menial things. Which gives validity to the statement "it's the small things that count." Because they really do. Without those small things, like my sister Carissa and I spending that first night up at the spot, I wouldn't be the person I am today. I wouldn't have the friends I have, I wouldn't have had the amazing experiences I've had today. I wouldn't have done cheerleading, I wouldn't have gotten into theatre, none of it. Because there are really small things behind everything I've ever done. And I remember all of those small things. I remember all of this, and it's a gift and a curse.

A gift because later down the road I can think back on my life and remember those glances, hugs, laughs, tears, memories made, and smile to myself. I'll remember that I'm friends with Kimber Grunst because Cheyanne was gone from school and we both had no one else to eat with at lunch, that I'm friends with Cheyanne because she needed to use my eyes as a model for her wolf mask in 7th period art, and that the only reason I took art was because I wasn't allowed to take two English classes in the seventh grade. I'll remember proposing to Joanna ten minutes after we met, getting lost and asking Chandler to help me find Foley-Benson's class, Daryn, Melissa, and Maranda claiming me after they found out I was the new kid in school, and the first time I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Peyton Puryear was my friend. I'll remember the first time I made my RA laugh "you left for three minutes and now it’s a foursome!" and basically the moments when I made some of the best friends a person could ask for. 

And a curse, because I'll remember the exact moment when so many things fell apart. I'll never forget the exact feeling I got in my stomach the moment I found out that Carissa needed me one night more than she has ever needed before or since then. I remember the blood draining out of my face when I found out my Great Grandma's cancer has come back and she is going to let nature work its course. I remember the looks on the faces of my brothers when they were hungry and we couldn't afford food, and the way everyone I've ever seen cried the moment they experienced true heartbreak. And it will break my heart. Because some aches you just don't get over. And you have to learn how to deal with that. 

"Now Alexis," you may be saying, "you need to quit being so reminiscent. You live in the past too much. You need to bring yourself into the present." But I think its important to traverse down memory lane so often. There you can see where you came from, whether it be good or bad. You can revisit moments that defined periods of your life, or your entire life. I know whenever I'm upset I think back to the summer I first met Carissa and Johnny and we spent almost a straight week sleeping at "The Spot" and watching the stars, and then waking up with the sun. I think about the time my grandma got pulled over and we got distracted by these two deer walking straight up the face of a mountain, I think of finally making cheer at Omak, I think of going to Cinderella with my Aunt and Kamiah back in fifth grade, and just think of all the things that made life really okay up to this point. And whenever I'm about to make a big decision, I can look back on my very short 19 year long life and see how decisions similar to this one have affected me then and how they will affect me now. 

There are moments that I will hold onto forever, both good and bad, and they will help continue to shape me into the young woman and adult that I'm trying so hard to be.