Friday night musings

Work

I'm in an abusive relationship with the family law unit of [...].  I'm committed to the relationship: I show up every day, I work consistently, I don't take time off unless I'm truly sick or for a pre-planned vacation.  Yet although I'm committed, I'm taken for granted by the other side in the relationship.  I've never once been offered praise or a complimentary word or a positive word of recognition by my supervisor or anyone in the unit.  If anyone in the unit denied that, I would ask the cross-examination question: "can you produce one email or written evidence of having done so."  And like an abusive relationship, when it's not the default of being taken for granted, when I do get attention, mainly from my supervisor, it's criticism, it's what I've done wrong.  Just like the oppressed party in an abusive relationship, I'm made to feel like shit and that I'm never good enough.

Culture

In current events, Philadelphia Eagles wide receiver DeSean Jackson was released today.  I'm fine with it.  Although he's certainly talented, I still think he's overrated.  Similar to my criticism of members of my own field of law, I dislike how DeSean has such a big ego.  Show up and do your job, do it well.  The media is claiming that there is evidence that he associates with gang members, who have been tied to murders.  I also dislike the glorification of violence and crime so prevalent in a certain element of the American hip-hop, urban, primarily American-of-African-descent culture.  Leaders of society -- chief executive officers, business owners, politicians, coaches, lawyers and judges, media personalities, and others -- should set a stronger, more vocal example against the acceptance or acquiescence of this culture of death.  So, with all that being said, I'm fine with the Eagles releasing DeSean Jackson.

Love

I feel so blessed to have Jeannie and Rocky and the Baby in my life.  With our baby daughter on the way, due to arrive any day now, we're really becoming a family.  My marriage, and my relationship, with Jeannie is strong and healthy.  And Rocky and the Baby are there for me, making me happy day in and day out for the past nine years.  As much other shit may be going on in the world, from my office and beyond, I thank God that my life at home is good and stable and healthy.  Thank you, God.

A few thoughts on recent days

Work
I'm so tired of thinking about it and writing about it, but I dislike my work environment.  As I mentioned to Jeannie when I came home from work tonight, I'm just not happy.  It's not fun to be there.  I think back to my first couple years there, when I had fun and my true personality shined.  I would joke around at unit meetings; in fact, I still have cards from the law students at the end of the summer, writing about how my joking around made the unit meetings fun.  I was a lot more comfortable in my role.  I had optimism.  I felt good about myself, and others seemed to believe in me, which also made me feel good.  Now, aside from Richard and Diane, I don't trust anyone completely.  I don't feel appreciated.  Even deeper than that, I feel like people don't like me.

My self-esteem is damaged; I feel like whenever the opportunity presents itself, Sue finds a way to criticize me or find something wrong with what I've done.  At the unit meeting just two days ago, on Monday, Sue criticized me in front of everyone there by saying that the law student, whose client's case we were reviewing, had improperly identified the issuing judge.  I angrily stated that the law students know that Judge Dougherty doesn't sit at 34 South 11th Street.

What I should have replied was simply two words: "K____ Bacon."  I supervise 20 law students, who are only required to be in the office for three (3) hours per week.  Sue, on the other hand, supervises only 3, or at most 4, paralegals who are in the office full-time, thus 40 hours per week.  At the end of 12 months, paralegal K. Bacon, under Sue's supervision!, didn't know shit.  She sucked as a paralegal.  In kinder, more accurate terms, she was completely incompetent.  And yet, Sue finds any opportunity to criticize a minor point, to suggest that I'm not doing the best job as supervising attorney.

The bottom line is that the law clinic is operating at its highest level in its existence; I certainly cannot take all the credit, but it's on my clock.  Under my supervision, the student advocates provide more pro se legal assistance, especially in terms of educating the clients of the relevant law in Pennsylvania and arming them with copies of the actual law (statutes) itself, than ever before in the history of the law clinic.  Sue sucks as supervisor.  That's the bottom line.

And what's a shame is that last week's unit meeting, on Monday, March 17, 2014, when Sue wasn't present, was the best unit meeting -- for me, at least -- in a very long time.  I felt free to talk and offer my analysis on cases.  I felt a part of the unit.  I felt comfortable, for the most part, with my co-workers there.  It's quite ironic that Sue is like an abuser, I feel safe when she's not around.

If you have a moldy loaf of bread, you're not going to eat it.  Even if the mold is concentrated in one or a couple spots, the safe thing is not to eat the bread.  You throw out the whole loaf of bread and get a new loaf that doesn't have any mold.  That's the sensible thing to do, to protect your own health.

Faith
Earlier today, after seeing an inspirational meme/image on facebook, I looked up Psalm 27.  With everything on my mind from work, it really gave me strength and perspective.  Here I copy Psalm 27 from the The Message:

Light, space, zest—
    that’s God!
So, with him on my side I’m fearless,
    afraid of no one and nothing.

    When vandal hordes ride down
    ready to eat me alive,
Those bullies and toughs
    fall flat on their faces.

When besieged,
    I’m calm as a baby.
When all hell breaks loose,
    I’m collected and cool.

I’m asking God for one thing,
    only one thing:
To live with him in his house
    my whole life long.
I’ll contemplate his beauty;
    I’ll study at his feet.

That’s the only quiet, secure place
    in a noisy world,
The perfect getaway,
    far from the buzz of traffic.

God holds me head and shoulders
    above all who try to pull me down.
I’m headed for his place to offer anthems
    that will raise the roof!
Already I’m singing God-songs;
    I’m making music to God.

Listen, God, I’m calling at the top of my lungs:
    “Be good to me! Answer me!”
When my heart whispered, “Seek God,”
    my whole being replied,
“I’m seeking him!”
    Don’t hide from me now!

You’ve always been right there for me;
    don’t turn your back on me now.
Don’t throw me out, don’t abandon me;
    you’ve always kept the door open.
My father and mother walked out and left me,
    but God took me in.

Point me down your highway, God;
    direct me along a well-lighted street;
    show my enemies whose side you’re on.
Don’t throw me to the dogs,
    those liars who are out to get me,
    filling the air with their threats.

I’m sure now I’ll see God’s goodness
    in the exuberant earth.
Stay with God!
    Take heart. Don’t quit.
I’ll say it again:
    Stay with God.

Daughter
With all the shit that swirls through my brain from the bullshit I'm surrounded by at work, I can say with faith in God that this is an exciting time in my life.  I'm very excited to meet my beautiful daughter, very likely one day within the next couple weeks.  I want to meet her and start getting to know her.  I want to be there for her and love her from the moment I meet her.

I'm excited to think that this is a relationship that is unique and hopefully, God willing, last many years.  So to begin that relationship any day now is very exciting.  It's also very exciting and emotional to think that the birth of my daughter will really make real the birth, creation, and development of my very own family, something that I could only dream about a couple years ago.

I thank God with my whole heart and soul  for these blessings, after the hard lessons that I've lived through and, reading above, through which I'm still living.  I know and accept that life cannot and will not always be smooth sailing, but that there are moments -- like the impending birth of my daughter -- that make it all worth it and will far outshine all the trials and bad energy.

Go big or go home!

"There is no passion to be found playing small -- in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living." -- Nelson Mandela

My friend R. Lowe posted this on facebook just a couple hours ago.  It really struck home.  I know I'm probably sounding like a broken record these days, since I've mostly been writing about how unfulfilled I feel at work, but it's what's most on my mind.  Which should say a lot, since I'm expecting the arrival of my first-born any day now!  For my daughter's sake, for my wife's sake, and for my own sake, I deserve at least the opportunity to go big.  Go big or go home!  I feel small and underutilized at work.  I feel ignored.  I write emails and there's often no response or affirmation of any kind.  I post articles on facebook on topics that my work colleagues should likely agree with, but no one comments or clicks "like."  It's ridiculous.  I'm like Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man.  When I'm at the office, especially when it comes to meetings, I feel small, I feel turned inward, I feel hunched, I feel downward.  On the contrary, at times when I'm at Court or at other times when I'm one-on-one with a client or law student or other times on the weekends among friends or other people, I feel full, like my wings are stretched, I feel level, I feel calmer and more confident, more comfortable in my own space/area.

Hope for the Future

This past Monday, March 17, 2014, at 10:57pm, my friend M. Williams wrote a note to me on facebook, in response to my birthday greeting to him.  He wrote:

"You're welcome; actually, I held back...I didn't want to embarrass you. You see, you have transformative talents, skills and abilities - you're a phenomenal person; I don't know many people who are "game-changers" like you. [My Name], there will be opportunities in your future to lead - which is perfect, because you will be an AMAZING leader. Whether it be in the governmental, private or public sectors, you are destined to be A Great Leader. It is a privilege and an honor to see all of this coalesce around you; it's a privilege and an honor to know you - heck, to know someone LIKE you!"

It meant a lot to me to get that kind of positive feedback.  There are times when I feel that I have the ability to be a leader: the desire to help others, to be a good listener to understand what others need, the communication skills (writing especially, but also speaking) to convey a message, and the will to go up against anyone without fear.  But at my current job I never get any kind of positive feedback.  Instead, if I'm not ignored or taken for granted, I'm put down.  I'll never forget how Sue put me down some time in 2013 by criticizing the tone of my emails.  Other than occasionally saying "good night" when she passes my office, Anita doesn't speak with me.  Neither my supervisor Sue nor our executive director Anita has ever complimented my job as an attorney or my job as a supervising attorney of a law clinic.  Neither Sue nor Anita have approached me to talk about my career development or my future in the organization.  Never -- at least not since I returned for my current stint as an attorney -- has either one given me the kind of compliment above from my friend.

Just yesterday, I met with a client of mine, an Egyptian woman, who I had represented relatively early in my current stint.  I haven't even seen her for at least a couple years.  In fact, I'm pretty sure that I closed her last case in 2011.  When I went out to the waiting room to bring her back to my office, she was smiling so big, she was so happy to see me.  And totally unexpectedly, she presented a couple gifts to me, items from Egypt, one a business card holder and the other a jewelry box.  It meant so much to me, more than I can really convey by typing into this blog.  I was very happy.  Her huge smile (happier than I ever remember her looking) made me smile so big, the kind of smile that I rarely have in that office.

Those are the kinds of experiences that keep my head above water in that office.  The praise and respect and gratitude that I get from clients and the Court are what make me believe in myself.  The energy and attention, or lack thereof, that I get from the leadership in my office makes me doubt myself; it hurts my self-esteem.  It's a shitty situation.  But I persevere because there's a light at the end of the tunnel, and the grace of God, through my clients and the Court, buoys my faith in the future.

Weekend Update

Friday, March 14, 2014
I left work early to come home, get changed, get the car, pick-up Jeannie from work, and drive north on I-95 to get to Philly's northern suburbs to Cozy Tots, a semi-annual consignment sale for baby stuff.  My friend Tobin, who recommended the baby flea market to me, said that he and his wife Sharlenn had gotten stuff worth nearly $1k for only $300.  Since the event was cash-only, Jeannie and I each hit the ATM hard in anticipation for the event.  You can imagine our disappointment at only getting $26 worth of goods.  Part of it was that traffic on I-95 was so bad that we arrived at Cozy Tots about 30 minutes after the doors opened, just long enough to possibly miss out on the best stuff.  The other part of it, though, is that Jeannie's dad has done an amazing job at already getting so much of the big stuff that we need, and additionally people like Johnny (the door guy at 42 South 15th Street) and Mary (our building's cleaning lady) gave gifts that were totally unexpected.  So, even before going to the baby sale, we were already stocked up on a lot of important gear.

I was feeling pretty frustrated at the heavy traffic and my inability to get us to the event on time, as well as our lack of success.  So, I decided (unilaterally and in my own head) to take us to Manayunk for dinner.  I mentioned it to Jeannie shortly after we pulled out of the parking lot and she was on-board.  So I drove south on Route 611 to Route 1, which I took south to Ridge Avenue, which took me to Main Street Manayunk.  We found a parking spot on the Philly end of Main Street, then walked most of the length of Main Street to the suburban-facing end, where we arrived at Taqueria Feliz.  I had been jonesing for some Mexican food for a while, at least a couple months, and this place really hit the spot.  Feeling up for a hit of alcohol, I ordered a Margarita Feliz with salt on the rim of the glass.  We also got an order of guacamole and chips before we left the bar for our table.  I ordered enchiladas de pollo with a really delicious mole sauce.  To end the meal, we also ordered churro-flavored ice cream.  All in all, it was a great meal.  I would totally go back.

Saturday, March 15, 2014
I had a speaking engagement at the Community Hospital in Chester, PA on Saturday morning.  My friend Laura had invited me to come out to speak to a group of Spanish-speaking mothers who meet once per month to discuss all sorts of issues that effect them.  Jeannie was nice enough to join me, which really did make me happy.  Before leaving on our short car ride, this time heading south on I-95, I stopped at La Citadelle for a large cup of coffee for the road.  Once again we hit a little bit of traffic, totally unexpected at this time of day, and so a bit unnerving, but we got there only a minute or two past 10am.  Not wanting to be late, I was somewhat happy that none of the guests were there yet.  We didn't start until around 10:40am, after only three women showed up.  It was fine with me though.  I felt honored just to be there and get a chance to teach some custody law to some people that probably wouldn't normally have the opportunity to get that kind of information.

On the way back, I dropped off Jeannie at the DMV at 8th & Arch Streets to officially change her state-issued identification card to match my last name (and thus, prepare ourselves to all share our family name with the impending arrival of our daughter).  I drove home, where I met Jeannie's dad and he and I put together the crib.  Then, after I ate a quick lunch, we left to pick-up Jeannie outside of Reading Terminal Market and we went to Ikea to pick out (after a long walk through the store) a platform bed frame with storage for Jeannie's bed in the baby's room.  We had just enough time to drop it off at home before we left for dinner.

We had a birthday dinner for Jeannie at Marrakesh, just off of South Street.  Along with Jeannie and I, of course, were Jeannie's dad and his good friend, Carol, along with Jeannie's high school friend, Cathy and her husband Aiden.  We enjoyed the seven-course meal, although the music was definitely a bit too loud, especially since Jeannie's dad is hard of hearing.  And, speaking for myself at least, I enjoyed the belly dancer who came through to perform for our dining room.  All in all, it was a really nice experience.

Afterward, Cathy and Aiden came back with us to our place to check it out, look at some photos, and just hang out for a little while before they headed back to their hotel in Mount Laurel, NJ.

Sunday, March 16, 2014
Although Jeannie and I could have both used a day to sleep in, we couldn't do so because we had Sunday mass at St. Charles Borromeo at 9:30am.  Right when Jeannie and I stood up to walk up to the altar (for Jeannie to receive her blessing and for me to receive communion), I put the sealed envelope, with my birthday card to Jeannie inside, on Jeannie's spot on the pew.  When we returned, Jeannie noticed it and I encouraged her to open it and read it there, while I said my usual prayers and thanks to God.  I realized that Jeannie had started to cry from reading it; it made me happy, because what I wrote came directly from the heart.  I'm glad that she could feel in that moment how much I love her.

After mass, we walked north to Chestnut Street to catch a 42 bus heading east across town, to get us to my mom's house, where we met Mita, Eric, and Jessica for a brunch of blueberry French toast, sausage, and coffee.  We hung out for about an hour and a half, then came back home to begin the long process of errands and clean-up.  We all played different roles in assembling Jeannie's bed frame, watering the plants, sweeping the floors, washing the dishes, and running the vacuum.  At one point, I ran out by myself to do some food-shopping at Trader Joe's.  And towards the end, Jeannie helped Jess to edit her resume.  By the time Jess and Jeannie's dad left for their respective car rides northwards to their homes, Jeannie and I walked to visit our friends Corey and Laura for a birthday / St. Patrick's Day dinner there.

Corey and Laura had slow-cooked in a crock pot some meat, rutabaga, carrots, and cabbage.  Overall, it was a very tasty meal, especially the meat, which was very nicely seasoned with spices.  We watched the Selection Sunday show on television while we chatted.  After dinner, we each ate a mint chocolate cupcake that I had bought at Trader Joe's to have as a birthday dessert for Jeannie.  Luckily, Corey and Laura had birthday candles, so we were able to light them up and sing "happy birthday" to Jeannie.  Despite feeling pretty tired from the weekend as a whole, it was really great to see and spend time with our friends.

After getting home, I somehow mustered the energy to shave and give myself a haircut, then even do a little bit of reading before hitting the sack around 11:30pm.  It was a long and fruitful weekend.  And it was totally worth it.

Yet another unit meeting

Sue, the supervising attorney of the unit, was in such a sour mood today.  Her tone of voice at the hour-long unit meeting was atrocious.  It was so derogatory and impatient that even Emilia told Sue directly, something to the effect of, "I also have very little patience today, so don't keep talking to me like that."  Later in the meeting, I spoke up about a case and offered my analysis, ending by saying "even if my opinion means zero."

Note to self: remember this day later -- if and when I question the decisions that I make in the next steps of my professional career -- remember this day.  I deserve better than to work for a supervisor who is *not* a true leader.  I deserve better than to be confronted with negativity on a regular basis.  I deserve better than to work for a supervisor who is adored by her supervisees, when the example that she sets is so negative.  I deserve better than to work for someone so immature.

It's just so ridiculous.  By at least halfway through the meeting, I had a smile on my face.  I stand by what I've said before: I've lost nearly all respect for my supervisor.  As I told her directly, while sitting in her office, once the trust in a relationship is gone, it is nearly impossible, if not completely so, to rebuild.  Sue destroyed her relationship with Stephanie G. by talking shit about her behind her back for so long, then accidentally leaving a voicemail on Stephanie's phone on which Sue stated her real feelings.  How can you trust someone like that?  How can management keep someone like that in a supervisor position?  How can I continue to work for someone like that?  I can't answer the first two questions, but God willing, I'll have an answer to the third.

Animal abuse

I saw (tonight on the 10pm edition of Action News on PHL17) a story about animal abuse.  Someone skinned an animal, likely a dog, from head to tail and removed the animal's ears and rear paws.  As I was watching the story, Rocky was sitting on the couch next to me.  The story is sick.  To know that there are people who can so easily disregard and disrespect life and dignity is sad and depressing.

It made me think about the time when I lived very briefly (for only about six weeks) with Ileana at 777 South Cleveland Street.  I remember we were on the bed when Rocky went walking across the bed and Ileana kicked him in the side.  Without waiting or asking any questions, I punched Ileana once as hard as I could on one of her hips.  I would do that again 100 times out of 100.  There is no right for anyone to hurt an animal, with the only exception being legitimate self-defense.  In hindsight, I'm very happy that I'm no longer in a relationship with Ileana, because that act demonstrated just a seed of what I describe above.

Since I've been in a relationship with Jeannie, she has been nothing but kind and loving towards Rocky and the Baby.  And so it's no surprise that there has never been any violence of any sort in my relationship with Jeannie.  Whereas Ileana eventually at the end of our relationship brought out the worst in me, my relationship with Jeannie has been healthy and normal, as a family should be.

Earlier today, due to the clocks springing forward one hour, we missed our normal 9:30am mass at St. Charles Borromeo.  Instead, we went to the 6:30pm mass at St. Patrick's.  After receiving the host of Christ in holy communion, I returned to the pew and as usual I said a prayer for Rocky and the Baby.  I always thank God for Rocky and the Baby being in my life and bringing me so much joy and happiness; and I prayed that God bless them and protect them.  I love Rocky and the Baby.

On the topic of animal abuse, without even knowing what the punishments are, I can say that I'm very likely in favor of increasing the punishments for convicted animal abusers.  Anyone with a complete disrespect of life, as demonstrated in their abuse of an animal, should be incarcerated for a long time and intensively treated to get to the heart of what has led them to such a skewed disdain for life.

Introvert

When I was in law school, I took the MBTI (Myers-Briggs Type Indicator) for one of my courses.  I came out as ISFP (Introversion, Sensing, Feeling, Perceiving), as opposed to ENTJ (Extraversion, Intuition, Thinking, Judging).  The description of ISFP, which I'm typing directly from the back of the MBTI worksheet that I got in that law school course, is as follows:

"Quiet, friendly, sensitive, and kind.  Enjoy the present moment, what's going on around them.  Like to have their own space and to work within their own time frame.  Loyal and committed to their values and to people who are important to them.  Dislike disagreements and conflicts, do not force their opinions or values on others."

I largely agree with that statement as it applies to me.  I definitely like to have my own space and to work within my own time frame.  The latter has been very apparent during my current stint at PLA, during which I've preferred to come in late, then stay late into the evening or even into the night.  (For example, I didn't leave work last night until about 8:40pm, since Jeannie was at a "girls' night" at her friend Erica's house in East Falls).  I've gotten in trouble with management for setting my own schedule and coming and going as I please.  Let me make it clear to you, the reader, that I work hard; it's not as if I'm skimping on my work or my duties or responsibilities.  Especially during the first three (3) years as an attorney there, I worked my ass off, causing me a lot of stress and unhappiness at times, since I felt that others got more credit and recognition for doing less.  In part in reaction to the latter, and also now that I'm married and expecting our baby girl, I've scaled back my tendency to work long and hard.  Lately, I've been working steadily for the 45 hours or so per week that are expected of me.

Anyway, getting back to my personality type, I strongly agree that I'm very committed to my values, to the point that I'm willing to distance myself from relationships with anybody who demonstrates values that are somehow unjust or unfair.  For example, I work with an attorney now, who I strongly suspect doesn't like white people as a race.  She's a sweet and caring person otherwise, but that dissonance with my value for equality has led me to distance myself from what could be a closer friendship.  Another attorney, my direct supervisor, seems to dislike, if not hate, almost all men.  This bullshit inequality and prejudice, and my resentment that management has allowed her to remain in her position, with all the influence (especially over our young paralegals) that comes with it, has been the wedge between me and the rest of the unit.  This is a perfect example of how my commitment to my values trumps all (or at least nearly all) other commitments.

Going back to the "I" in the ISFP, I contrast myself with Jeannie, who often starts many days talking on the phone with her dad, her birth mother, or others, while I, on the other hand, would never want to talk to someone on the phone until I'm at work and hopefully begun drinking my morning cup of coffee.  In the mornings, I prefer to listen to music or news radio or, most of the time, just remain in my own thoughts.  That's one of the times of the day that I can think in peace, without distractions, and just let my mind wander wherever it needs to go.  The idea of talking to someone first thing in the morning actually exhausts me.

I remember growing up, both as a younger child and later in my adolescence, preferring to be alone in my reading.  I remember being in my bedroom in Medford, with the door closed but not shut, sitting on the floor, leaning against my bed, reading a book.  I also remember doing the same thing in my first apartment at 2008 Walnut Street, when I lived with Corey.  Although I enjoy a stimulating intellectual conversation with others, my mind really gets activated when I'm reading in silence.  I can concentrate on what I'm reading and let my mind, even subconsciously, apply what I'm reading to other ideas and areas of my brain.

Finally, although I'm a lawyer, it's true that I don't like disagreements and conflicts.  I try my best in my cases to resolve the matter by agreement (and I have a pretty good track record doing so).  In my personal life, I often avoid conflict, and I admit that this tendency is a sin and a weakness, because there are situations where the avoidance of disagreement or conflict leads to stagnation and lack of resolution.  I think this is a big part of why my relationship with my father is so sad and unstable; neither one of us is willing to start a conversation and open up about our feelings, for fear of conflict.  I can also apply this to my situation at PLA now, where after my initial conflict with the unit over its gender bias in favor of women and against men has now led to a prolonged period of detente, where I've basically avoided dealing with the unit, except when necessary.  I have no problem with anyone on a one-on-one basis, but vis-a-vis the unit I've removed myself, since I don't see any acceptable resolution and I prefer to avoid further disagreement or conflict.

So, that's a big part of my personality and who I am and how I operate.  I'm largely an introvert.  I am who I am.

A Day to Thank my Enemies

On this date, March 2nd, I thank all those who have broken my heart, insulted me, offended me, failed to believe in me, underestimated me, or talked shit about me behind my back.  Two years ago today, on March 2nd, 2012, Ileana walked out on me, walking right out the door to my apartment at 1015 Bainbridge Street.  I haven't had any direct contact with her since.

Earlier today, before I got out of bed to take a shower before church, I thought about two episodes where I really felt hurt and then ashamed of my reaction.  First, when I was a senior in high school, I remember dating for a very short period of time one of the most desirable girls of the junior class, Marissa McCormick, a beautiful girl with lush, curly hair.  She was a goalie on the field hockey team.  And she was later that year voted as the best looking girl of her class, or something along those lines.  I remember going on a double date with her and Mike Potter and the girl he was dating at the time.  We went to the Friendly's right by the Marlton Circle (the intersection of Routes 70 & 73, no longer a circle for at least four or five years).  Anyway, it may have been later that night after the double date that another guy, Tim, from our football team threw a house party.  We had lost to Pemberton earlier that day, putting this whole episode on Saturday, October 14, 1995.  Marissa and I both went to the house party.  I don't remember if I picked her up to go there, or if we just met there.  But we were definitely dating, or so I thought.  I don't remember much about the night, except that I think I was trying to play it cool by not being attached to her.  Maybe that was my mistake, because I recall that I hadn't seen her for a while and so I went looking for her.  I opened the door to a bedroom to find her sitting on the bed with one of my friends on the team, John Cidoni.  It's possible that I immediately jumped to a false conclusion, but even my written description now seems hard to justify, so I was understandably hurt by what I saw.  I remember going back downstairs where I had been sitting in the basement.  I remember talking with Taryn Young and I think also with Mia Tatum, a couple of the cheerleaders, both very beautiful young women in their own right.  And I remember getting upset to the point of crying.  I admit before God and whoever later reads this that I'm a sensitive guy; there's no doubt about that.  But I still feel a bit ashamed at my emotional reaction.  Although I had good reason to feel betrayed -- not so much by Marissa, between whom we had not likely developed any kind of allegiance, but more so from my friend, Cidoni -- I still feel like I could have handled the situation with more grace.

The second episode didn't happen too much later, as the calendar would indicate.  I was a sophomore in college, so this was the fall of 1997.  It happened during a football game, although I don't remember which one.  At that point, I was still our team's starting wide receiver.  The moment really hit me at halftime, although it had been building up since some point in the second quarter, and at a deeper level pretty much since the start of the season.  I had a terrible first half, dropping at least a couple easy balls.  The point in the second quarter, that I refer to just above, was what should have been a very easy catch, but was instead a dropped pass.  I was frustrated.  And it had been building for a while.  I was being underutilized by the coach, Barry Streeter.  In other words, I felt that my skills and my talents were being taken for granted, or even worse just disregarded.  That was the issue, not so much the frustration of the moment, but the fact that I felt like less of a person than I had considered myself.  It made me question my identity as a football player, as the best wide receiver that I knew.  And when I got into the locker room at halftime, it was too much to hold back.  I took off my helmet and cried by my locker.  I couldn't handle it.  Again, I think back to this episode and I wonder if I had the emotional grit to handle the situation with more grace, perhaps wait until a more private moment to release my pent-up frustration and self-doubt.  Or perhaps not.  Perhaps that was exactly what needed to happen.

When I look back at both of those moments, I see that something "good" came out of each one.  After the first, I developed a hunger to hit Cidoni in tackling drills and the like during practice.  Before that, I'd always had an aversion, if not fear, to hitting and being hit.  My love for the game of football had more to do with displaying my skills in having really good hands to catch the football and exceptional speed to set myself apart, athletically, from everyone else on the field.  Now, in reaction to this episode of hurt, I wanted to punish Cidoni.  And I overcame my fear of hitting others as hard as I could.  I remember that it was later that same season that I put a huge hit on Aamir Dew in our win against #6-ranked nationally Toms River North.  And I wasn't scared any more of getting hit.

After the second episode, I think I began to realize that my own identity was more than a football player, or at least it had to be, and I had to figure out how so.  Right before I was supposed to report to camp in August 1998, I called Coach Streeter to tell him that I wasn't going to return to the team.  I had been developing as a team leader during the off-season work-outs, but I decided to apply those skills elsewhere.  I joined our college chapter of Amnesty International and eventually led it to the second biggest budget for a student organization on campus and ushered in a period of increased membership and activity on campus.

Maybe this is all revisionist history on my part, especially since I still feel a bit of shame from my reaction to both episodes of hurt.  I hope I'm remembered for more than just my reactions.  I hope I'm remembered for being genuine in my emotions.  And more than that, I hope I'm remembered for the positive aspects: for being desired by a really desirable girl, for being a great football player, for being a good organizational leader, and for always putting my heart into whatever I did.

Circling back to the commemoration of today's date, I also know that I was devastated by Ileana walking out that door.  The next two months marked one of the biggest depressions of my life (on par with my third year of law school).  Similar to the first story, I felt rejected by a girl.  And similar to the second story, I felt like I had lost a big piece of my identity.  But like both stories above, something really good came out of it: only six months later, to the day (September 2, 2012), I met my wife at a Labor Day barbecue I hosted at the very same apartment at 1015 Bainbridge Street.  And not just that, I had learned the importance of valuing and cherishing my relationship with my partner.  Since then, I'm very aware that I've been blessed by God, and I'm very thankful.

Sometimes, it's the people who hurt us in some way that teach us the most.  This March 2nd, I thank those people by still being here, being alive, and being happy.