MyTimeToBlog
Education is key. That's the truth for most of us who grew up in the inner cities. I, like most who lived in Housing Projects USA, dropped out of school early, and sadly, never returned. That missing component is why so many experience the worst of life: prison, death, or low-paying, dead-end jobs. All of this became apparent to me later in life.
A good friend of mine had a discussion with me about the Aliens movie franchise. He said that the alien was encased in an egg, ala the housing projects. When the alien got free, it impregnated someone. That alien that exploded from the womb was only programmed to kill and make more destructive aliens. My friend compared the youth (people of color) to an alien that was bred to kill and make more of itself.
We were in a day room, and all I did was think about what my friend shared. My upbringing plastered my thoughts, and that triggered me, because what I factored in was my truth: I was raised by an abusive stepfather. I dropped out of school when I was 15. I even allowed my environment to cultivate my negative disposition.
I cared about nothing but my siblings getting an education. My life...I forfeited it because I felt worthless. I didn't know how to think, nor surround myself with substance. Those I considered friends smoked weed, drank, and went home to single-parent homes. All of this floated around my noggin as my friend continued making his point.
"We didn't get our young ears open to what the elders said. Our thoughts were on being nothing, because that's what we were around. How could we think about being lawyers, doctors, or scientists? Where did we see that? Where?"
I groaned inwardly, but then I said this: "We're here now, in a cage, eating and dealing with the nonsense. So what can we do about it?" He sighed, then replied, "Save yourself by any means necessary, because that's the only thing you can do."
I started thinking about my father, who asked why I wanted an education so bad. It's simple: when I looked back on my life, that college degree would show me that I did something of value with my time in prison. That drives me every day.
What made me fight for higher learning was seeing the elders around me. They're lacking in so many areas. It's sad that me and my friend spent 20-plus years in prison, having a life-changing discussion about our upbringing, and the elders were sagging their shorts, bickering about the Houston and Golden State basketball game.
We're losing on all fronts. It's been the case since I sat with my mentor who had difficulty with spelling transitions. That made me laugh at the time, but now, I'm getting why he'll spend his latter days in prison: he didn't strive for anything. Nothing. He'll break down the Miami Dolphins' draft prospects, but a GED study guide, that's of no interest--a 57-year-old man. One whom I listened to intently as a youth, because he had respect. What the f#%k!
The smartest thing I did for myself was to screw up and get removed from those small, empty thinkers. When I did, I learned to see what I needed for myself. That's why I'm battling daily with the prison system to get into college.
I attended one college class (Ancient History) and received a B average for my efforts. That was nearly a year ago. Since that point, I have been out of college because of paperwork that was either screwed up, or...I don't even know? I'm not getting any answers.
So, when I'm fighting for what I want, I'm happier. Why? I know that I surpassed my upbringing. I moved beyond being angry, violent, and content with the level of respect I received in prison.
To break away from your past, you must educate yourself. Who cares what the next man is doing? It's about you being your best. That's why I'm reading more and talking less. The empty conversations lead me to having a headache, because I'm being pounded verbally about Shedeur Sanders should've been a first-round pick--who cares!
The battle is today, and getting outside of prison is when the war starts. So I'm training as I appreciate my friend's words that encouraged me to grasp that yesterday we were lost, but today, with an education, we could accomplish the impossible.
That's why I'm smiling, instead of grimacing, because I'm not the lost kid of my youth. My growth continued as I read from scholars and conversed with those educated on what life could be, and how I must go about attaining it. Thank goodness, because talking about sports was as empty as that 57-year-old man's insight on the Dolphins' draft prospects.
God, where the hell am I? Oh yeah, prison. That didn't take an educated guess either.