Scar Daddy

In Texas, I was on the down-hill side of high school. The last two years. Junior and Senior year. Top dogs of the courtyard. I was in a funny position at the time having just moved from Colorado. I had no solid friend group within my grade therefore no outlet for the plenty of energy and hormones that came at that age. I found myself frequenting detention, a couple in-school suspensions, and great one-on-one dialogues with teachers, vice-principals, and counselors that knew they had lost yet another troubled youth to the fancies of the world and the fast track of high living with an elixir of adrenaline, dopamine, and testosterone running through my veins. I don't blame them. That was very accurate. What most of them did not realize though was that behind all those late attendances, smart remarks, dress code infringements, and the rebellious air about me there was an upbringing that was full of good morals, sound advice, and strong role models that would help me in the long run despite all I did to try to demolish that. Being the new kid, I was able to bounce in and out of groups here and there. I played hacky sack during lunch, hung out with the theater kids after school, deadbeats when I was supposed to be in school and church friends on weekends. I also had the odd occasional friend from an individual class that I could rely on for laughs, notes, or to cover for me on occasion. One of those "occasional" friends is one of those few children who could "probably save the world" referring to the blog post. Throughout our senior year he went through the difficult time of finding his true self. He struggled with homosexual thoughts and feelings but hadn't confronted them on any level except on discussions between he and I. I was a teenager and imparted all of my life's knowledge on the subject to him, but I admit I didn't have much. I believe this was my first introduction into a legitimate life problem even though it was not my own. I felt the pain that he was going through to a degree with texts that went until 3 am and checking in at occasional times throughout the week at school. I was comfortable with this and felt that I was serving a purpose in someone's life and I think he was doing better but over a couple more weeks I couldn't be more wrong. Through our text conversations, (which I tried many many times to raise to phone calls), he spoke of his thoughts about suicide. He had been considering this way out for a while but said "I haven't done it because I'm more scared of the pain than I am of living a lie. If I had more courage I would be gone." I had never been thankful for "cowardice" until that moment. Sometimes you get these wild ideas in your head that make sense to you and nobody else. Ideas like that come to me quite often and I never explain myself. I told him I would wait for him every day by the flagpole to make sure he made it through the night after I went to bed. We would talk for just a little bit and then we would go to our individual classes. I was worried. To me it was life and death. Looking back, I probably should’ve included a professional or told one of my school counselors I saw so often. On more than one occasion I was late for first period or missed the Texas pledge which was unacceptable to the principals. These infringements stacked up showing “un-eagle like qualities” and making it so I was not allowed to be on the wall of achievements for graduating seniors. I tell this story not to toot my own horn and say “hey I helped someone in a difficult spot” but instead to remind us all to be ourselves. I may have been seen as a thug and hopeless, but I know that I’m not. I know I’m better than that and I know my friend was able to get a lot of time back that he may not have had. He chose to STAY. If you’re questioning where to go next, I invite you to stay and share your scar story with others. The world needs you.

I made a post on my Instagram to attract people to come tell their stories. My biggest fear when I am called in for a second interview is what I'm going to wear. I wore my top notch stuff for the first interview and now it's just going to be a let down. I feel like Prince Ali for the first round and Aladdin in street urchin form for the second round. Advice? tips? thoughts? how'd you guys get through your second interview successfully? I'm on a job search and it's getting to be slim pickings. Tell me any interview story you experienced that was embarrassing, hilarious, dang successful or otherwise. Create an account and comment!

When I was a young boy (as every story begins that you don’t want to stick around for the ending) I had this neighbor friend that I would run around with and play make believe. One of our favorite things to do was play Star Wars and WWII battles. My young friend was allowed to play Battlefield on his computer, and I had no war games or video game console of any kind. I enjoyed his games and I sadly admit that he was one of those friends that you wanted to hang out with just to play with his toys or eat his food, you know what I’m saying? Anyways, whenever we played WWII, he always wanted to be the Nazi’s and did very well in his role with his gruesome ways of killing me. I don’t blame him though because I always was the best American soldier and no one could shoot me, everyone missed. I’d torture me too haha. But at this age I feel like we shouldn’t have known this much about what the Nazi’s had done. I know Battlefield doesn’t go into as much detail as he would. I had been raised a certain way and I knew that what had occurred at that time was bad regardless of who you were, that’s why I was always the American. It occurred to me the other night that he was blonde-haired, blue-eyed, as were his parents. His father was German though I’m not sure how fresh off the boat he was. I assume, and I could definitely be wrong, that there was teaching, or books, or something coming from the parents to the child making him always want to be the Nazi’s. It could also be the destructive mind of an 8-year-old that always wants to break others block towers and crush paper airplanes like King Kong. That’s one example I remembered but the other, more prominent one that is undoubtedly true was the change in teaching of history when I moved from Colorado to Texas. When I got to Texas I was still in high school and in their history classes they taught a completely different civil war than what I was used to. In their textbooks. They taught that the civil war was a truce and that slavery was only a piece of what they were fighting for, but they were more focused on “states rights” and southern independence. The north wanted to preserve the union while also ending slavery. It was bizarre to see teachers teach this completely believing it and not blinking. I had seen both sides of the fence now and gained more than both sides had or seemed to have. What’s this got to do with anything? Nothing. I just remembered this experience late one night and wanted to share this “scar story” and the lesson I learned. I have been careful to consider outside points of view in everything I do now. I try to be aware of how others feel, think, and act and don’t want to hurt anyone unintentionally. “There is enough heartache and sorrow in this life without our adding to it” – Dieter F. Uchtdorf Bullying has run rampant in the hallways of schools, office buildings (now termed harassment), and all over cyber space. Everyone has something to offer this world. Please share this and don’t downgrade others just because they don’t fit in your perfect color-in-the-lines coloring book of life. Some of the most beautiful people I have ever met have been people from outside my circle of immediate friends. After those experiences, my circle gets bigger and bigger. Just be careful of your point of view and what others see as well.