Its been a long time, since I have written anything. Many things have been on my mind and some of these I've been meaning to write about for some time now.
This is my 5th year as a school counselor, and it marked the longest time I have stayed in one profession thus far, other than being a student. This is the second year at a down county school. The demographic is completely different here, compare to up county. The majority of the students here are minorities, the wealth disparity is greatly exaggerated from one community to the next. While most of the community are at the lower end of the spectrum versus middle and upper. Where as in the up county school it was mostly middle and upper class with a sprinkling of poorer families. Majority of the up county students are Caucasian.
Ashley's quince
The most glaring difference from there and here is the amount of parent involvement. Up county is 300% and over the top helicopter parents that might as well be watching over your shoulder when you do your work. The down county are the absentee parents that you can not find any working numbers for, and even if you did they did not have transportation to make it to school for a meeting. There are negatives in all side of the extreme spectrum, but I will say I prefer working with the students than working with the parents. At least with the students, you can give them a chance to become more than just their "fathers son".
Ode2015-2015
If there is one thing I have learned as a counselor over the last half decade, which have became clearer to me each day, is that majority of the people lack the ability for empathy. People are not able to put themselves in other peoples shoes. They are unwilling to accept different cultures and social practices. They are quick to judge and condemn anything and everything that is not familiar to them. As if it threatens their ego, and their existence dependent on their prejudice.
One of the thing that vexed me a lot this year, is the idea of social conditioning. Not so that I mired in conflict ideology, but many of the things I think about are not socially accepted as the norm. I often get into deliberations with people who have accepted into the normative culture. They are verse at arguing their point, because the politically correct slant is pervasive. Even the unassuming 13 year old can regurgitate the same thing they see on t.v. that's played 1 billion times.
When you engage in these face to face or even online deliberations with the general masses, the challenge is not finding the facts to counter their facts, but rather it is to form proper conjectures that is quick, lucid, and succinct. All of which there is very little information provided in the normal media if you are looking to go against the grain of political correctness. But alas, there are a lot more people fighting the good fight than we are led to believe by the media. You just have to study it from the pros, and be brave enough to stand against the masses. Perhaps one day I'll talk about the gender bias myth or affirmative action. Today, I'll just talk about the perception of motorcycling.
Motorcycling is dangerous. There is no doubt. So is driving. So is any recreation activity that brings your blood boiling and makes you feel alive. People have always thought motorcycles is either cool or dangerous or both. There is no doubt, that there are reckless bikers out there. There are no doubt that many of them do it for the image. But posers are everywhere. From cars to houses, to handbags, and gym junkies. But riding is different for those who live the culture of motorcycling.
2016 bike show. We went all the way to nyc. Cause they cancel the dc show.
Riding out hundreds if not thousands of miles away from home with nothing but the iron horse beneath you, is a modern day phenomenon. When you meet fellow riders on the road, there is an instant bond and connection. Unlike the different types of riders you meet in the local Starbucks and restaurant, people on the road personifies the same freedom you also experienced. We are not talking about the freedom of the open road, we are not talking about some heuristic defining moment of release from emotional bondage. For a long while I have wondered, what do I mean when I say freedom on a motorcycle? What does it actually mean?
In this last year of ups and downs; with more downs than I can count that is beyond my own control, I did not find as much time to ride as I would have liked. As I regress into world of the never ending rat race, I find myself feeling trapped and frustrated at the world around me. As I swung my foot over the saddle this past weekend, I understood this freedom that has eluded me for so many years.
Riding is not about the danger, its not about the rush for me; while there is plenty of both and I enjoy them thoroughly. Those extremes are for those who spend their days on the track or ride like idiots on the public road. It is not about the fashion and image; while I do enjoy my new found fixation on leather and boots. The fashionable bikers are relegated to those who put a couple hundred miles on their bikes a year, and cruise from Starbucks to Starbucks and never go more than a league away from their comfort zone.
Riding for me is a psychological freedom, freedom from your own mind and your own limitations. It is freedom derived from the courage to leave all things familiar to explore the road less traveled. Freedom to forego all the amenities of the city life or the life of plush accommodations, and travel the road to let go all expectations.
No one is looking, there are no social pressure, and there you are; just yourself and your travel companion. You are not the car you drive, not the house you own, not the girlfriend or boyfriend you have, not how cute you look, but you are just a person looking for hope and adventure. You must get along with the person next to you, behind you, or sitting with you, because you depend on them and they depend on you. The road, makes me modest, and gives me humility. The greatest gift of our humanity that people often forgets.
This is my 5th year as a school counselor, and it marked the longest time I have stayed in one profession thus far, other than being a student. This is the second year at a down county school. The demographic is completely different here, compare to up county. The majority of the students here are minorities, the wealth disparity is greatly exaggerated from one community to the next. While most of the community are at the lower end of the spectrum versus middle and upper. Where as in the up county school it was mostly middle and upper class with a sprinkling of poorer families. Majority of the up county students are Caucasian.
The most glaring difference from there and here is the amount of parent involvement. Up county is 300% and over the top helicopter parents that might as well be watching over your shoulder when you do your work. The down county are the absentee parents that you can not find any working numbers for, and even if you did they did not have transportation to make it to school for a meeting. There are negatives in all side of the extreme spectrum, but I will say I prefer working with the students than working with the parents. At least with the students, you can give them a chance to become more than just their "fathers son".
If there is one thing I have learned as a counselor over the last half decade, which have became clearer to me each day, is that majority of the people lack the ability for empathy. People are not able to put themselves in other peoples shoes. They are unwilling to accept different cultures and social practices. They are quick to judge and condemn anything and everything that is not familiar to them. As if it threatens their ego, and their existence dependent on their prejudice.
As I watch the young minds of the next generation passes
through my door ways, one after another, I can’t help but notice that we are
not becoming more diverse or stronger. Instead, we becoming weaker, blaming
others for our problems through the vials of political correctness, that is
driven through the lens of equality and equity.
I was sick most of 2015. It started in January when I had a food poisoning incident. After 3 days of recovery, and able to take in fluids, I thought the worst is over. Instead, what perpetuated was a year long food sensitivity that never truly resolved itself until couple month ago. I got tested with everything under the sun. Nothing came up. But my guts was not happy. The initial months I had cramping every time I ate, then other symptoms risen from urgency to use the restroom to bloating. The symptoms subsided as I took different types of food out of my diet. Mainly dairy, but I soon learn that taking out eggs and red meat was also helpful.
It is incredibly hard to take out dairy, as it is part of almost every single food. From cream base soup to salad dressings. I first adopted a bland diet plan, that moved to more adventurous alternatives. Egg was also problematic, from omelet to stir fry, to my morning 2 egg routine. But alas it seems like everything has finally came to some agreement to my stomach.
I was sick most of 2015. It started in January when I had a food poisoning incident. After 3 days of recovery, and able to take in fluids, I thought the worst is over. Instead, what perpetuated was a year long food sensitivity that never truly resolved itself until couple month ago. I got tested with everything under the sun. Nothing came up. But my guts was not happy. The initial months I had cramping every time I ate, then other symptoms risen from urgency to use the restroom to bloating. The symptoms subsided as I took different types of food out of my diet. Mainly dairy, but I soon learn that taking out eggs and red meat was also helpful.
It is incredibly hard to take out dairy, as it is part of almost every single food. From cream base soup to salad dressings. I first adopted a bland diet plan, that moved to more adventurous alternatives. Egg was also problematic, from omelet to stir fry, to my morning 2 egg routine. But alas it seems like everything has finally came to some agreement to my stomach.
When you engage in these face to face or even online deliberations with the general masses, the challenge is not finding the facts to counter their facts, but rather it is to form proper conjectures that is quick, lucid, and succinct. All of which there is very little information provided in the normal media if you are looking to go against the grain of political correctness. But alas, there are a lot more people fighting the good fight than we are led to believe by the media. You just have to study it from the pros, and be brave enough to stand against the masses. Perhaps one day I'll talk about the gender bias myth or affirmative action. Today, I'll just talk about the perception of motorcycling.
Motorcycling is dangerous. There is no doubt. So is driving. So is any recreation activity that brings your blood boiling and makes you feel alive. People have always thought motorcycles is either cool or dangerous or both. There is no doubt, that there are reckless bikers out there. There are no doubt that many of them do it for the image. But posers are everywhere. From cars to houses, to handbags, and gym junkies. But riding is different for those who live the culture of motorcycling.
Riding out hundreds if not thousands of miles away from home with nothing but the iron horse beneath you, is a modern day phenomenon. When you meet fellow riders on the road, there is an instant bond and connection. Unlike the different types of riders you meet in the local Starbucks and restaurant, people on the road personifies the same freedom you also experienced. We are not talking about the freedom of the open road, we are not talking about some heuristic defining moment of release from emotional bondage. For a long while I have wondered, what do I mean when I say freedom on a motorcycle? What does it actually mean?
In this last year of ups and downs; with more downs than I can count that is beyond my own control, I did not find as much time to ride as I would have liked. As I regress into world of the never ending rat race, I find myself feeling trapped and frustrated at the world around me. As I swung my foot over the saddle this past weekend, I understood this freedom that has eluded me for so many years.
Riding is not about the danger, its not about the rush for me; while there is plenty of both and I enjoy them thoroughly. Those extremes are for those who spend their days on the track or ride like idiots on the public road. It is not about the fashion and image; while I do enjoy my new found fixation on leather and boots. The fashionable bikers are relegated to those who put a couple hundred miles on their bikes a year, and cruise from Starbucks to Starbucks and never go more than a league away from their comfort zone.
Riding for me is a psychological freedom, freedom from your own mind and your own limitations. It is freedom derived from the courage to leave all things familiar to explore the road less traveled. Freedom to forego all the amenities of the city life or the life of plush accommodations, and travel the road to let go all expectations.
No one is looking, there are no social pressure, and there you are; just yourself and your travel companion. You are not the car you drive, not the house you own, not the girlfriend or boyfriend you have, not how cute you look, but you are just a person looking for hope and adventure. You must get along with the person next to you, behind you, or sitting with you, because you depend on them and they depend on you. The road, makes me modest, and gives me humility. The greatest gift of our humanity that people often forgets.