Mirrors: Spoken Word Poetry by Grace Hayes

https://soundcloud.com/graceorsomething/mirrors-spoken-word-poetry-by

Remember Not to Scream_Entry 2_Week 9

Horror movies.

They are made to be scary- blood and gore and violence are sure to be in it. At least one scene will involve screaming, and throughout the entire movie the sound of dramatic music will suddenly blare through the television's speakers. Many people are able to laugh at the stupidity of the victim when they call out "Hello?" into the silence of a house, or how they tend to run downstairs to the basement as if the darkness can protect them from the killer waiting at the top of the staircase with a knife in their hand.

The same thing happens when people venture into a Haunted House for the excitement and the thrills that come from being scared. Everything becomes quiet, and when you least expect something to pop out from behind that one closed door, it happens. You scream and feel your heart beating quickly against your chest, and then let out a nervous laugh as you realize that behind that distorted mask there's only another human being instead of a monster.

We all like to get scared once in a while, especially this time of year when Halloween is just around the corner. Decorations are put up and Haunted Houses are constructed and horror movies just happen to suddenly pop up in every theater around the country. We seem to celebrate it all- the horrors of violence and death, and yet when something like a school shooting happens we suddenly are in shock.

Why is that?

Because society has given us a cushion against reality. If something is too violent or scary for us on TV, we have the power to grab the remote and switch it off. Reality, however, is a different story. We can't simply remote control every situation, and unfortunately we cannot switch off the many tragedies and horrors of life itself.

So if we hate seeing other humans suffer, why do we celebrate it?

To Be or Not To Be?_Entry 1_Week 9

"To be or not to be?"

I am pretty sure that too many people ask themselves that famous line from Hamlet on a day to day basis.

"Why am I here?"

"What is my purpose in my life?"

"Who am I?"

On October 21, 2013, yet another tragedy shocked the nation to tears and disbelief. At Sparks Middle School in Sparks, Nevada, a twelve year old boy took his own life, wounded a student, and shot and killed a teacher by the name of Michael Landsberry.

The very first fact that tends to catch the attention of the public eye is the horrific and sudden conclusion to Landsberry's life. He had been a former marine who had served in Afghanistan and then took up a job teaching students. The community organized and set- up a memorial in honor of Landsberry and his willingness to protect the students from the potential dangers of the gun held in the young boy's hands in exchange for his own life.

Don't get me wrong- it is a very kind and loving gesture from the community to honor those wounded and killed through memorials and FaceBook pages that tell stories of what a great man Landsberry had been and how he was there for his students who were experiencing abuse, self- harm, family issues, and much more.

But my question is this: What could drive a TWELVE year old boy- a kid, a student, a son... to the point of feeling completely and utterly hopeless. To the point of not being able to see past the troubles of the present and to be able to see the prospects of the future. To not detect the silver lining in the rain clouds.

He was only a kid. His life had only just begun.

As a society, we immediately accuse the parents. Truth is, we don't know how they raised their kid. We don't know what his home life was like. We don't know what was going on inside his head or his heart. We don't know what it was like to be in his shoes.

But what we do know from this tragedy, is that we didn't do anything for him. We didn't speak up when someone called him a name. We didn't help pick up his books when someone purposefully knocked them out of his hands.

What did YOU do?

He certainly isn't the only kid who has felt this way before, but it doesn't mean that it is nothing to worry about. No- it is not just a phase. No- it is not the usual turmoils of growing up. No- it is not a complex problem that can be solved with the snap of a finger.

We need to be there for them- for our kids, our sisters, our brothers, our friends, our family. We need to ask them- are you ok? Not the casual "How was your day?" But the more serious question of "How are you really? Do you feel loved, accepted, appreciated? We are HERE FOR YOU."

What WILL YOU do?

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/sparks-school-shooting-anti-bullying-video-student-article-1.1493905

 

Seize the Limitation_Entry 2_Week 8

Break through your barriers. Overcome your obstacles. Don’t let ANYTHING stop you.

Unfortunately, in life, there is little you can do when it comes to certain situations. Sometimes you cannot get around what is stopping you from achieving your goal- it is just a fact of life. Everyone views such impossible obstacles as a negative thing… but what if it’s actually a good thing? What if the limitations you face are not so unfortunate?

At my martial arts academy, the first thing that we learn and are challenged to do is to find the strength within us so we can be capable of overcoming the many obstacles that life loves to hurl our way.

But how can one embrace what seems to only hinder them? You have to own it. Feel it out- see how you can use it to your advantage rather than letting it take advantage of YOU.

As the following video promotes:

Embrace your limitations.

http://talentsearch.ted.com/video/Phil-Hansen-The-art-of-the-impe;TEDNew-York

The Most Inquiring Kind of Beings_Entry 1_Week 8

Parents have got to be the most inquiring kind of people to ever live on this planet.

Literally.

“Where do you plan on going to college?”

“How are you going to pay for college?”

“Where, exactly, are you planning on living?”

“Do you even have a plan after you graduate?”

Just… stop.

Please.

Sometimes their questions make me feel as if my ears are bleeding nothing but their constant complaints and comments on a daily basis. They used to tell me to enjoy my childhood; now it’s as if they are forcing me to grow up and move out and get a job and meet a nice, clean- shaven guy and have a family of my own.

That’s really not okay with me.

Yes, moving out would be quite ideal due to the fact I could live with my closest friends and would not have to worry about curfew. But once I even hint at such an idea, my parents go on lock down mode and tell me to enjoy childhood.

Not only are parents the most inquiring kind of people, they are also the most contradictory kind of beings.

The Movie Theater_Entry 2_Week 7

Red tongues and red vines.

A cool breeze sung between the branches of leafless trees and the smell of buttered popcorn drifted as it pleased on the current of air. Young couples stood side by side; the boys tended to have a look of want as they studied the back of their date’s head as she studied the ground in an effort to avoid awkward eye contact. The woman with lines on her forehead and a mustard stain on her overwhelmingly bright orange t-shirt asked us what movie we would like to see and how many of us there were so she could charge us just the right amount and then some.

We walked away from the ticket booth holding little ripped treasures of printed paper that would direct us to our feature presentation.

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I sat down in the cushioned seat. The theater hummed quietly as the air conditioner attempted to cool our bodies. The lights silently kissed the room good bye as their warm glow was draped over with velvety darkness. 

(To be continued...)

Fall Break_Entry 1_Week 7

Two of my friends are visiting colleges over the upcoming fall break. Another friend of mine will be practicing outdoor photography. And one other friend will be researching different companies seeking out the business most suited for her capstone project: Internship. While everyone else seems to be quite committed to remaining productive over their week off from school, I can assure you that I will use my fall break wisely. Translation: sleeping in until noon and staying up until at least midnight watching episodes of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I can most definitely promise you that I will be visiting the yogurt place that is practically down the street from my house on a daily basis. I might even pig- out on some sushi one day, and then the next lounge around the house in my checkered pajamas.

Maybe I will give some thought to re- writing my resume and working on my application to TMCC.

But in all honesty, I’m just going to chill.

Because I’m a teenager and I am living up to society’s expectations of adolescents being lazy.

Yay, me.

Our Deepest Fears_Entry 2_ Week 6

What is your deepest, darkest fear? Is it fear of rejection, of being isolated, or not being loved? Or is it the fear of being accepted but not wanting to feel as if you didn’t earn that acceptance- as if you owe it to society to work for something that they want. What do you want? What is holding YOU back from achieving what YOU want?

I ask myself those questions too often- it is like I am trying to solve a puzzle that just refuses to come together because I am missing a few valuable pieces. And then someone showed me this “poem”, and I realized where all my fear originates from.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.

There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine, as children do.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

-Marianne Williamson

My fear is not being able to achieve something great, it is becoming something so great I would never have imagined being able to achieve it in the first place.

What is stopping you?

The Winds of Change_ Entry 1_ Week 6

People change all the time. It can happen in the blink of an eye, or can take place over the course of several years. People never remain the same- it is impossible. They just can’t.

Throughout Shakespeare’s play, Hamlet, the characters struggle to deal with the death of a loved one by simply ignoring the incident and moving on with their life. Hamlet, however, seems unable to do so. He claims that his mother married too quickly, his uncle was too happy in fulfilling the role of the new king, and the kingdom of Denmark seemed to swiftly replace its brief time of mourning with that of drunken parties celebrating the nuptials of his Uncle Claudius and his mother Gertrude.

The Queen had changed her dark veil of grief to a white veil of happiness in order to feel loved again. Claudius quickly took on the role of King and father to Hamlet so as to feel as if he was a powerful and significant being. Hamlet allowed his feeling of grief over his father’s death to take over every part of his being and morph him into a person whose only goal was to get revenge. The people of Denmark took up drinking so as to drink away the sorrows and bitter truths of the world around them.

What an individual chooses to allow can be the destruction or the savior of their inner immortal being. The foolish acts of men are the consequence of mindless thoughts that often lead to deadly outcomes, even if their “virtues… be they as pure as grace”. The sin may be little, but the result of that sin can be horrific. “The stamp of one defect” is all that it takes to change the course of history… at least according to Shakespeare that is all that it takes.

Pull the Rabbit Out of the Hat_Entry 2_Week 5

"What's your name?"

I looked over my shoulder as if he was directing the question to the person standing behind me. But there was no one behind me or to the side of me. It was just me. And him. In that small cubicle of time and space where nothing seems to make sense, yet everything seems to fall perfectly into place- kind of like the most confusing puzzle that you've ever made an attempt at to accomplish and when it is finally completed, you can sigh with relief and admire the beautiful artwork you so intricately put back into place.

I raked my mind for an answer as if I knew what my name was. Problem is, I don't. I mean, I do... I know the name my parents legally gave me upon my birth. But it was like my tongue was in a knot that I didn't quite know how to untangle. And even if I could un-knot such a dreadful knot, my mind was printing out blank sheets of paper as a cruel response like a broken copy machine that doesn't want to reproduce your homework for English class. I felt like a soda can that had just been drained of its intelligence and stomped on so as to crush the aluminum into a flat sheet of nothing. My brain had turned into a rubber band that had been snapped back into a cloud made of cotton candy that could melt into liquid crystal sugar on your tongue.

To put it quite simply, when someone asks me my name, I know what it is. It consists of nine letters and can be shortened into several different nicknames. I could tell him my name, but the problem is his question doesn't just consist of what he should call me. He's asking who am I as an individual. As a human being, what is my story? I could see it in his eyes. And that I cannot do in a singular word that is written on my birth certificate.

So I ripped up my problems which consisted of the birth certificate that bore my name. I metaphorically threw it away into the trash can of absurdity and reached for the magician's hat in which I could pull out a rabbit. A rabbit that could do tricks and eat a carrot or two. A rabbit that could act out who I was rather than a piece of paper that spelled out only my beginning.

The next time someone asks me what my name is, I'll only reply with the answer that they're really searching for.

Pull the rabbit out of the hat.