Jussie Smollet, an actor from the series Empire, reported a violent attack. He told police that two people poured an unknown chemical on him, hit him in the face, and tied a rope around his neck. He wanted to be known as one of many who would be  a victim of a hate crime, hated because of his sexuality and because of the color of his skin. It was determined this week that he faked the attack. Police say that he was dissatisfied with his salary.

Amazing that someone can care more about their salary than they do about their character.

Throughout the year, our school focuses on different aspects of all that we as teachers believe can contribute to good character.  In the month of January, the month when this happened, we look at responsibility and what it means to be responsible human beings. I think it is possible that people, not unlike the men who engaged in such a horrific attempt at deceit, developed this extreme lack of respect for the human spirit in part because their lives were devoid of the exposure and teachings that were needed to become responsible.

Like most of us with a pulse, and I say most of us because I want to believe that people are generally good, I am deeply saddened for the countless people who walk moons in the shoes of prejudice acts against them. The fact that race, religion, disability, sexual orientation, gender, ethnicity, and the like give others reason enough to commit violent crimes and cause psychological distress, physical pain and even death upon another human being is unfathomable and yet, it persists. Still, Smollett staged a manipulative act that was later and deservedly called “shameful” and “despicable” by the Chicago police chief.

Don’t we have a responsibility to address it?  To familiarize our families and friends, neighbors and colleagues, children and students with the possibility that MAYBE we can be the change we wish to see in the world? To talk about this? To try – JUST TRY – to understand one another?

I moved to NYC from a very sheltered community.  It was a world that had not yet known diversity and is still far-reaching.  I may have known one gay person, but the word “gay” was never mentioned.  There may have been two black families, and I knew of no one who was of any religion other than some branch of christianity or Judaism.  As there were rather wealthy neighborhoods throughout the county, it would be unlikely that we would see a homeless person. So when I moved to NYC, it was a bit of a shock to see men holding hands with other men, to sit on a subway amongst a wide range of differences, to share a block with people from all over the world practicing different faiths, and to step over homeless people on my way to work.  But I quickly saw people as a mirror image of myself, and this only happened because I embraced interaction, conversation, and empathy. It didn’t take long to leave my sheltered life behind and to hold hands with anyone and everyone who wanted to know me.

I know too many people, some that I love with all my heart, who strive to be good and who are as aghast as anyone when learning about the indifference to the blood and sweat of a neighbor unlike themselves. Still, they cross the street of life to avoid the change of heart needed to promote their change of mind.  Transgender? I just don’t understand it, they say.  Gays?  The bible says it’s wrong, they say.  Poor? Homeless? It’s their own fault, they say.  Blacks?  Some of my best friends are black, they say.  Muslim?  I have nothing against them, they say.

Here’s what I say: Smollett clearly walks through life with some sort of demon that taunts him, teases him and bullies him into behaving in a way that will simply not be acceptable in society.  He most certainly needs help.  While he is not a victim of a act of hate he is a victim of his own foolish choice. When we step out of our lives and get out of our own way, perhaps we can then realize that we have a responsibility to love others without judgement. All others!  Perhaps then we can water down the acts of hate that blemish our society so that there is more understanding, less wrong, no fault, and just harmony.

Just sayin’.

 

Sunday I will run my second half marathon.   The third time running in the cold rain/snow.  The fourth time I will wake up at 4:00 AM for a race into unknown territory.

It’s more than likely that I will be there alone, as my “other half” will be working and the rest of the clan in my universe couldn’t care less. I mean who’s going to want to stand in the rain, sleet and snow for 2 hours?  But really that’s okay because I am not doing it for them.  I’m running for me. I’m running because I want to add life into my days. I’m also kind of looking forward to the beer I plan to drink afterwards. Still, it’ll be weird going it alone, and seeing that finish line devoid of anyone familiar and then getting on the subway to head home, just me and my mylar cape, the one I’ll wear as a badge of honor.

This week, I had pain in my knee so I only ran twice.  Today was sort of a run/walk and Tuesday was a 4-miler.  And if I go tomorrow it’ll be on the heels of a spin class that usually kicks my butt. I’m worried about the pain. That it’ll bring me down on the Harlem Hill.  And trust me if a hill has a name, you know it’s gonna suck.  I’ve been on that hill.  The only fun part about it is knowing that it’s behind you.

Pain is only temporary, though. Sometimes the pain is a minute or four minutes or a week or 6 months.  But it’s not forever. It comes and goes and then comes again. And as long as you say that to yourself when you’re hurting (emotionally or physically) “Pain is only temporary!” you can get through it – like I will on Sunday alongside 5,000 other people.

This half is named after Fred Lebow,  the founder of the NYC Marathon at a time when only 55 people ran it. He ran his last marathon at age 60 after being diagnosed with cancer. He completed 69 marathons in 30 countries.  Fred Lebow surely felt pain.

In November I, too, will run the NYC Marathon with 50,000 other people.  It’ll likely be cold, there will be people cheering us all on, and I suspect pain will be a part of it.

That day I will discover what the other half of crazy looks like.

 

Every Wednesday, I spend some time with my fifth graders focusing on our wellness; wellness in mind, body and spirit.  We engage in activities that build a healthy mindset. We look to feed our bodies with good food and exercise.  We strive to participate in gratitude so that we might extend all of the good in our lives to others.  Each week, there is some purpose to our consciousness that points us all in the direction of bettering ourselves which can no doubt make the world a better place in the process. We’ve gone out to run around the track. We’ve made smoothies.  We’ve learned hip hop dance.  We’ve made care bags for homeless people. We’ve considered all of the ways that we want to feel as we pursue our goals and dreams and then made posters to share our feelings with the school community.

My alarm went off at 4:05 this morning. I woke up sore, tired, and a bit uneasy about the long and arduous day I was about to face.  I could so easily succumb to the negativity that I’ve practiced my whole life.  Uhh I don’t wanna get up.   Or EVERYTHING hurts!  Or I wish I didn’t have to…. Instead, I replaced the old habits with I’m so grateful.  Thank you for this day, for my healthy will to feel good, for the gift of an opportunity to change someone’s life today.  For these legs that will pull me through a half marathon in a winter storm this weekend.  Thank you.  And then I pulled back the covers, got dressed and took my dog Flo for a 3 mile walk.

I think that most everything we do is a choice.  We have the choice to remember or forget, to feel good or bad, grow or stay stagnant.  We choose to press the snooze button of life or to get up and on with it.  Our choices are not all the same,  but they’re there for us to contemplate.

Today I have a choice to make something possible.  To write.  To walk.  To eat well.  To try.  To be fearless.  To push. To commit.  To persevere. To embrace. To be gracious. To help.  To show compassion.  To reflect. To stay positive. To smile. To hold my head high. To live in the moment.

I choose to be well.

 

 

I love the quote: “What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you become by achieving your goals.” Not sure who said it but it had me at “goals.” It is a time for change.  For a new road. I’m pretty sure there will be detours. This is my journey.

People go through far more difficult transformations, life-changing events, and periods of time that seem to matter in the big picture of life.  Mine can be deemed trite.  But I don’t want to judge it.  I just want to meet it, embrace it, and reflect on why it is happening FOR me.

In December 2017, I weighed myself at someone’s house. I won’t say the number that came up on the scale because my December 2017 weight may be another person’s goal. And to compare is to despair. But many of us have been there. We’ve seen something about ourselves that we didn’t like. For me, it was that number on the scale, the most I’d ever weighed. It just crept up.  5 lbs, 10 lbs, 20 lbs over the weight I knew and loved. A cupcake here, a couple of pieces of candy there, a second helping of macaroni somewhere else, the hard rolls,  the wine, the late night munchies, all of it. And over time, I found myself wearing over-sized hoodies, sweaters that covered my back side, and the jeans that had always been too big. Now, I could barely zip those jeans. I. Didn’t. Like it.

I knew it would be so much harder than ever to lose that gain, as I’d never been able to successfully reach such goals. But I decided that I would try. Again. And this time, I had no idea that it would lead me down such an unfamiliar path.

It began with some cycling classes that kicked my ass into the ground. I was sure after the first class that I needed an ambulance and a stretcher after the second class. Eventually, I left the class in a bit of shock but upright and soaked with sweat. I mean, the kind that you can wring out into the sink. I’d NEVER sweat like that, so I just kept going back. It was an addiction almost. I worked 5 jobs plus per session hours alongside my full-time teaching job just so I could afford the 3 or 4 classes a week. I think the mortgage payments were a challenge a couple of times, contemplating the price of the classes vs. the needed funds for bills. Clients in the classes were known to take it 2, 3, 4, and 5 times a day! When I’d reached my 100th class, I was reminded that those incredible athletes doing all of the moves to the nth degree had taken these classes 2000 times. Oye!  But I didn’t care. Because by then, I’d started running.  Me? A runner? There was a time that I couldn’t run my way out of a paper bag and suddenly I’m at 6 miles. I also lost 25 lbs, healed from a very painful hernia surgery, and ran my first half marathon.  While this was the first race I’d ever registered for, the race to better health was beyond anything I’d imagined possible.

It’s amazing the things you can do when you actually believe it.

How did I push past that 25 lb. reminder under my skin? All I can say is that I changed my body which changed my mind and that changed the way I moved forward. I began thinking that I could do anything. And this was not the me I had always known! I once tended to put the brakes on everything possible.  I never took part in athletics, and I shot down my own potential with negative words.  But over the months from late January to October, I became almost unrecognizable, particularly in stamina and will.

There was the good, the bad, and of course the ugly. The ones who said things like, I took it too far. I’m too skinny. Why do I spend so much money? I’m an addict. I have an unhealthy relationship with fitness. Get over it. What are you trying to prove? Do I even EAT?

The thing of it is, I didn’t do any of this for accolades. I did it because I wanted to change. I wanted to fit into my clothes. I didn’t want to be lying in a bed someday, waiting to die, riddled with the results of neglected self-care. I did it for me, because I believe that when I am my best self, I am better for others, for my family, my friends, my students. I did it not knowing the journey would lead me here.

Ironically, at this writing. I have never spoken to the some of the people who have influenced me the most on this journey, not about my unprecedented change nor anything else for that matter. I’m invisible to them. But it really is okay. I just keep following their example and using it to grow. I talk with my friends who run and inspire me, I follow online fitness experts and most of all, I stay open to the possibilities of what may happen next.

I know it gets annoying to be around passionate people when you’re not passionate about the same things, or worse, when you’re not passionate about anything in particular at the moment. I was there, many times, and in many different scenarios. All I can say is that I’ve stopped making excuses. I’ve stopped caring about what others think. In fact, I get annoyed with negativity and turn away from it.  Instead, I’ve started saying, “Thank you!” “I’m grateful.” “I’ve got this.” Now, I get out of  bed, often at 4:15 in the morning, change into my clothes, eat some food, load up my playlist and head out for a run or class. I do this in the worst of NYC heat waves, in the snow, in the winter rain, pulling my dog along if I’m running. I just freaking do it. No excuses. I don’t want to be 6 inches from being 6 feet under. I want to live my best life. And this process has helped me do it.

It only takes one person to prove that something can be done. This is nothing new. Millions before me have accomplished far more.

If I could change, anyone who wants to, can.