Black Flags
DISCLAIMER: This blog entry is a bit deeper and darker than my previous entries. Please read at your own discretion.
Four years ago this month, I was involved in a middle-school crisis that involved both my father and a particular person I wasn't fond of. Granted, it was middle school, so the means by which a "crisis" exists are limited to immediate dysfunction. However, this had long-term effects - effects that I'm realizing have lasted to this day. My father used to teach at my school, but he was fired four years ago after a heated argument between him and my English teacher, of which he never received closure. Now, my English teacher's son is the person whom I described I "wasn't fond of." He was a teacher's kid, and that was a problem for me because it seemed as though he always received special treatment. Now, he did do some things which I will not discuss, but the important thing here is that I also used to be a teacher's kid. Once my dad was fired, my perspective changed not because of me, but because of him. His lack of closure resonated into deep ill feelings towards those people that I think had manifested with me since that day four years ago.
Fast-forward to two years ago (freshman year). I still didn't like him, but not because of anything he did or was since that day four years ago. It was what he did and was on that day and before that day. I allowed those feelings that my dad harbored to rub off on my experience both towards high school and towards this particular person. Looking back, those people did nothing to me to make those feelings have any significance. Now, I'm not saying that I didn't have any rational bitter feelings for anyone, because that certainly isn't the case. There were people who had problems, sure; but I didn't care about that, because it wasn't about me. It was about vengeance. It was about payback. I literally called my best friend SEVERAL times that year to plot how to get my English teacher fired and how to make her son pay. I was not obsessed with getting him expelled for my sake; I was obsessed with making things "right." If you don't know where this is headed, keep reading.
Fast-forward to one year ago (sophomore year). This person became one of my friends. I refrain from using the adjective "best" because we don't talk about anything personal, but we used to. During sophomore year, he always talked to me about his problems and I did my best to help him. It's not as evident anymore but that line did eventually exist. I no longer harbored ill feelings for him. Fast-forward to this year (senior year), I don't harbor feelings for him nor my English teacher, who happens to be one of my favorite teachers now. I let go of the influence that my father's feelings had on me and became a person of my own experiences. So, how does this have relevance to today? Well, we're about halfway through.
_____________________________________________
The same school with the same people actually did something to me this time around. After I let go of all the grudges I never rationally should have had, a series of awful things happened, starting and ending with the consensus of my blog entry, Secrets and Beauty. Those of you who have not read it should read it, because it is everything that should not happen in an environment like this. So, the question came up: Was my dad right? And now that I, myself, have experienced something awful within the same environment he did, was I right to possess those ill feelings that I did? The answer to both questions, as I've come to realize, was no.
You know, I had a right to be sad and angry about the things that happened. But self-satisfaction is the only motive for vengeance. Why would I want to waste my high school experience - the experience that is SUPPOSED to be memorable and beautiful - hell-bent on making plots and acting like I'm some superhero trying to make things right when really I'm just the guy who took it the wrong way? Last night was my senior prom, and we'll talk about that in a different blog, but a friend told me something last night: "Prom is what you make it." You know, the thing that pisses me off the most is the fact that I've been trying to be the better person in the wrong way. I wanted to find a way to make them see that what they did was out of line, but how is anyone other than me going to gain from that? My therapist even told me to make my graduation speech some dictated "You messed me up so now I'm going to publicly tell you to go to hell" type of thing. And I even considered it! But you know what? To be the better person means to forgive and forget.
My speech is going to leave out all the bad and reflect only the good things that have come out of my years. I'm not the type of person that actually gets angry, but my father has constantly urged me to do something that stands up to those people. Guess what? I won't. Does that make me a coward? I'd argue that the coward is the one who thinks that payback and revenge is worth all the bitterness you have to hold onto. The coward is the one who thinks that he is stronger because he publicly blew something up that was originally private. No, I'm smart because I've realized that these people think that what they are doing is right. Like, do you not realize that you can't change those people? I'm done wasting my time with that because it's not worth it. I've opted to let it all go because high school is what you make of it, and other people's opinions don't have to mean anything! You have to know inside that you're the better person, and then live like it. There will always be people trying to make you feel wrong, but guess what? You're stronger when you put up your black flags than when you fight back. Don't confuse that to mean "Run and hide like a scared child!" No, it means you keep smiling, you stop ranting about how awful your life is, and you focus solely on the people in your life that do actually matter, regardless of how many or how few there are of them.
Life is what you make it. So if your life is depressing, it's because you chose to look at it that way. I chose not to.
Four years ago this month, I was involved in a middle-school crisis that involved both my father and a particular person I wasn't fond of. Granted, it was middle school, so the means by which a "crisis" exists are limited to immediate dysfunction. However, this had long-term effects - effects that I'm realizing have lasted to this day. My father used to teach at my school, but he was fired four years ago after a heated argument between him and my English teacher, of which he never received closure. Now, my English teacher's son is the person whom I described I "wasn't fond of." He was a teacher's kid, and that was a problem for me because it seemed as though he always received special treatment. Now, he did do some things which I will not discuss, but the important thing here is that I also used to be a teacher's kid. Once my dad was fired, my perspective changed not because of me, but because of him. His lack of closure resonated into deep ill feelings towards those people that I think had manifested with me since that day four years ago.
Fast-forward to two years ago (freshman year). I still didn't like him, but not because of anything he did or was since that day four years ago. It was what he did and was on that day and before that day. I allowed those feelings that my dad harbored to rub off on my experience both towards high school and towards this particular person. Looking back, those people did nothing to me to make those feelings have any significance. Now, I'm not saying that I didn't have any rational bitter feelings for anyone, because that certainly isn't the case. There were people who had problems, sure; but I didn't care about that, because it wasn't about me. It was about vengeance. It was about payback. I literally called my best friend SEVERAL times that year to plot how to get my English teacher fired and how to make her son pay. I was not obsessed with getting him expelled for my sake; I was obsessed with making things "right." If you don't know where this is headed, keep reading.
Fast-forward to one year ago (sophomore year). This person became one of my friends. I refrain from using the adjective "best" because we don't talk about anything personal, but we used to. During sophomore year, he always talked to me about his problems and I did my best to help him. It's not as evident anymore but that line did eventually exist. I no longer harbored ill feelings for him. Fast-forward to this year (senior year), I don't harbor feelings for him nor my English teacher, who happens to be one of my favorite teachers now. I let go of the influence that my father's feelings had on me and became a person of my own experiences. So, how does this have relevance to today? Well, we're about halfway through.
_____________________________________________
The same school with the same people actually did something to me this time around. After I let go of all the grudges I never rationally should have had, a series of awful things happened, starting and ending with the consensus of my blog entry, Secrets and Beauty. Those of you who have not read it should read it, because it is everything that should not happen in an environment like this. So, the question came up: Was my dad right? And now that I, myself, have experienced something awful within the same environment he did, was I right to possess those ill feelings that I did? The answer to both questions, as I've come to realize, was no.
You know, I had a right to be sad and angry about the things that happened. But self-satisfaction is the only motive for vengeance. Why would I want to waste my high school experience - the experience that is SUPPOSED to be memorable and beautiful - hell-bent on making plots and acting like I'm some superhero trying to make things right when really I'm just the guy who took it the wrong way? Last night was my senior prom, and we'll talk about that in a different blog, but a friend told me something last night: "Prom is what you make it." You know, the thing that pisses me off the most is the fact that I've been trying to be the better person in the wrong way. I wanted to find a way to make them see that what they did was out of line, but how is anyone other than me going to gain from that? My therapist even told me to make my graduation speech some dictated "You messed me up so now I'm going to publicly tell you to go to hell" type of thing. And I even considered it! But you know what? To be the better person means to forgive and forget.
My speech is going to leave out all the bad and reflect only the good things that have come out of my years. I'm not the type of person that actually gets angry, but my father has constantly urged me to do something that stands up to those people. Guess what? I won't. Does that make me a coward? I'd argue that the coward is the one who thinks that payback and revenge is worth all the bitterness you have to hold onto. The coward is the one who thinks that he is stronger because he publicly blew something up that was originally private. No, I'm smart because I've realized that these people think that what they are doing is right. Like, do you not realize that you can't change those people? I'm done wasting my time with that because it's not worth it. I've opted to let it all go because high school is what you make of it, and other people's opinions don't have to mean anything! You have to know inside that you're the better person, and then live like it. There will always be people trying to make you feel wrong, but guess what? You're stronger when you put up your black flags than when you fight back. Don't confuse that to mean "Run and hide like a scared child!" No, it means you keep smiling, you stop ranting about how awful your life is, and you focus solely on the people in your life that do actually matter, regardless of how many or how few there are of them.
Life is what you make it. So if your life is depressing, it's because you chose to look at it that way. I chose not to.
I love you, but your attitude is like that of a shrew. Your options? Take a pill or be my kill. Might I suggest that you wear a vest. Perish in class or be banished to the land of bluegrass, where dreams don't exist as you'll be eternally pissed.
