ok I think this is the only one we're supposed to put on here. This is the latest story I rewrote. I stemmed from Shari's essay which was based on Monique's essay about Cancer. Shari's story was very similar to Monique's sticking with the same family member-the mother-having cancer. I tried to switch it up a little and left the topic of cancer, but flipped the viewpoint a little going from a child looking on a parent with cancer, to my story, a parent looking on a child with cancer. so here it is:
The doctors told us she wouldn’t even last a year. But we refused to believe it. She was only four. How could it be that this precious little angel could have leukemia? Ava was the happiest four-year-old in the world. Not a care in the world. Her smile could light up a room in a split second. She was my baby. And she was a fighter.
My husband and I had been trying to have a baby for a long time. And after two miscarriages, it finally happened. It was a tough pregnancy. Ava was born premature and with many health problems that go along with it. But she survived. She never once gave up. Even as a baby, I could tell that she as a fighter. As she got bigger, she just got more beautiful. Everyone that came in contact with her left with the biggest smile because when Ava smiled, everyone smiled. She was so full of life and energy…almost too much energy. I was always chasing her around the house when my husband was at work. When I was with her I felt like I was young again too.
It was almost two years ago when I received a phone call. On the line was Ava’s dance teacher.
“Yes, ok I’ll be right there,” I said.
Her teacher told me Ava had become very dizzy during class and she was worried about her. Ava never stopped. She loved to dance. It was her favorite thing to do. If there was music playing, Ava was dancing to it. It wasn’t like Ava to get tired and have to sit out. So I rushed her to the hospital. After hours of tests, the doctors came to speak to my husband and me.
“It’s leukemia,” the doctor said. I froze. It was as if the entire world had stopped at that one moment. I didn’t hear or see anything around me. All I could do was picture my sweet, innocent little girl losing her beautiful, coco brown hair. I yelled at the doctor. “What do you mean leukemia? She’s four years old! She doesn’t have leukemia. You read the tests wrong!” My husband held me back and told me to listen. As the doctor explained Ava’s condition I felt the tears coming. He left the room and I sat with my husband and cried for what seemed like hours. The thought of losing my precious girl was unbearable.
We left and took Ava home. The doctors told us that her condition was so far along that there wasn’t much they could do. They told us the best thing to do was let her stay home and live life the best she could. They did give her a few medications to try to give her a little more time. But that’s it. I just couldn’t fathom how this could be possible. With all the medications and advancements there were in this day and age all they could come up with was some stupid pills to give her maybe an extra month or two? I was furious. But I wouldn’t let that hinder me from spending this time with my daughter.
My husband took a leave from work and we moved in with his parents so we could call spend these last few months together. I remember the day she died like it was yesterday. I fell asleep in Ava’s bed with her the night before after reading her favorite book to her. I woke up and looked into her lifeless face and realized it was over. She had been strong, but the cancer prevailed. This evil disease stole my baby from me like a kidnapper would yank a child at a supermarket. I will never forget that day.
A parent is not supposed to bury their child. But I did. And I will never forget her. She was only four, but Ava left a huge impact on every life she came in contact with. Now I know she’s looking down on us from a better place, and she’s smiling. Her little sister just turned a year old and already asks questions about her older sister. She never met her, but she’s so proud of her. I think God blessed me with this child to help me heal. I will always have two daughters. One of them is just watching over me, instead of the other way around.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Seriously? Colbert?
Ok so does anyone takes this whole Colbert for President thing seriously? It's ridiculous. He's pretty much just making a mochery out of the whole thing. Does he really think he's going to win? No...he doesn't. He said he wasn't in it for the win, but for the run. So what's the point. Why would he run and waste all that time and money, when he knows he's not going to win? Plus there's the whole controversy of how he's paying for it (Doritos?) and whether it's ok for Comedy Central to back one candidate. It's just so stupid really. It reminds me of when Arnold Scwatzen...however you spell it won governor of California. But he actually won. Which is crazy...but I guess when you have midgets and old movie stars running against each other, there's not much choice. The Presidency however, is a different story. Everyone else running is a legit candidate. All being in some position of political power...all having served a political office before. What's Colbert done? He's made people laugh on his fake talk show. Big Deal. Maybe he's watched Man of the Year a few too many times. You know, the movie where Robin Williams is a comedian on a talk show and runs for president and wins through a glitch in the voting system. Maybe Colbert is hoping for a glitch. I don't know but I think It's a waste of time and money and a waste of our attention. We should be focusing on the real candidates and getting familiar with their policies so we can vote for the right candidate in 2008...instead of being concerned whether Steven Colbert will get around the FEC laws about funding.
re: credit card drama
I was reading Daniel's entry about credit card drama and it inspired me to write. There are many negative things about credit cards...many of which Daniel described. And I think it is especially difficult for students our age because it's like instant money when you don't have it. But ou don't think about having to put the money back. So many students end up in debt. Which is a really hard thing to get out of. But there is another side to credit cards. Yes they have a positive side. Credit cards help you build up credit, which you will need one day when you are trying to buy a house or applying for a loan, or when you need a new car. You have to have good credit. But if you've never had a credit card, you don't have any credit: good or bad. I've tried applying for cards at stores like Express and Victoria's Secret...you know to get the discounts. But I've always been turned down because I didn't have any credit at all. So sometimes it's important to have a credit card, but only if you are responsible. If you can pay your bills off in time, you will build good credit for yourself. But if you know you're very irresponsible and not very prganized, and you now you won't pay it on time, well then no, credit cards probably aren't for you. But sometime you have to grow up and be responsible.
Joyce Maynard
When I found out we were required to go to one of the River City Writer Series events, I was not super excited. I'm not a big reader, or writer. I never enojyed doing either thing. So having to read a bunch of essays and go listen to the author talk about then was not on my top priority of things to do. It was on Wednesday night too so I would be giving up TWO of my favorite shows. But I went, because I had to. I arrived there with Meg and saw eveyone from class and we all just hung out and snacked. There was a lot of cheese. Thats pretty much it. Just cheese and really sugary punch. Finally we went in to listen to Joyce Maynard.
The three essays I read of hers were actually interesting. I never found my mind wandering...which is a good sign for me. When we were listening to her tell about her life and what inspired her to write I was amazed. The things that this woman had accomplished in 53 years of life were amazing to me! You name it, she did it. Then she read an excerpt from her memoir. It was funny because we all knew about her relationship with J.D. Salinger. It was kind of a taboo thing because Salinger was a recluse and no one knew anything about him except that she dated him. And we were told not to ask about it. But the main thing Joyce talked about the entire time was Salinger! It was so interesting. He was a man that wrote such an important book in American culture (Catcher in the Rye) and he turned out to be a callous, bitter man. It was just very interesting to hear.
My favorite thing about listening to Joyce was her talk about honesty. Honesty in your wrting and how important it is. She talked about how up until her last memoir, she was not honest in her writing. She didn't feel like her readers could handle it. So she left out many important things that were happenening to her. I know what she means. I've often edited thingsto leave out personal things I may have included. But it's important to be honest or else you lose yourself. I keep this journal. And I don't write in it every day, just whenever I feel upset or like I need someone to talk to and no one's there. I write it down. And that's where I'm most honest. Because no one else has to see it, just me. But even still, sometimes the hardest person to be honest with is yourself. I find that happening a lot. It's hard. But it makes you feel a lot better once you've said it. It's like a weight lifted of your shoulders.
I was also glad when we got to go see Maynard again during class he next day. She was so inspiring. She made me want to be a writer! ME...the person who hates to read, hates to write. But I loved it...I might even go see the other authors...even though I don't have to!
The three essays I read of hers were actually interesting. I never found my mind wandering...which is a good sign for me. When we were listening to her tell about her life and what inspired her to write I was amazed. The things that this woman had accomplished in 53 years of life were amazing to me! You name it, she did it. Then she read an excerpt from her memoir. It was funny because we all knew about her relationship with J.D. Salinger. It was kind of a taboo thing because Salinger was a recluse and no one knew anything about him except that she dated him. And we were told not to ask about it. But the main thing Joyce talked about the entire time was Salinger! It was so interesting. He was a man that wrote such an important book in American culture (Catcher in the Rye) and he turned out to be a callous, bitter man. It was just very interesting to hear.
My favorite thing about listening to Joyce was her talk about honesty. Honesty in your wrting and how important it is. She talked about how up until her last memoir, she was not honest in her writing. She didn't feel like her readers could handle it. So she left out many important things that were happenening to her. I know what she means. I've often edited thingsto leave out personal things I may have included. But it's important to be honest or else you lose yourself. I keep this journal. And I don't write in it every day, just whenever I feel upset or like I need someone to talk to and no one's there. I write it down. And that's where I'm most honest. Because no one else has to see it, just me. But even still, sometimes the hardest person to be honest with is yourself. I find that happening a lot. It's hard. But it makes you feel a lot better once you've said it. It's like a weight lifted of your shoulders.
I was also glad when we got to go see Maynard again during class he next day. She was so inspiring. She made me want to be a writer! ME...the person who hates to read, hates to write. But I loved it...I might even go see the other authors...even though I don't have to!
Sunday, October 21, 2007
*$%^#@!#%^!
I was just reading the article that is posted on our blog's homepage about cussing and it got me thinking. I always think about it though. About why cussing is bad. Like who said that these were bad words? Why do they offend people? They're just words. I cuss all the time and I don't see anything wrong with it. It's just another way to express yourself and how you are feeling. But some people get so upset about it. Movies get R ratings just because they have the word 'fuck' in them. But why? Did someone hundreds of years ago just make a list and say "the words shit, fuck, damn, etc....will be taboo. It will be bad if you say them" ? What makes them bad? The only thing I don't think is a good thing to say is GD....you know using the Lord's name in vain. But if damn wasn't a bad word, then it wouldn't really be using the Lord's name in vain would it? I don't get it. I have to monitor what I say around certain people because I wouldn't want to offend anyone. But if they weren't "bad" words, then you wouldn't have to worry who you say them around. It's such a stupid concept to me. I think it's just one of those things that your parents told you was bad so you just don't do it. I think if I had kids I wouldn't get mad at them if they cussed, I would just tell them they had to be careful about who they said it around. Because if you said that to a teacher at school, you would probably get suspended. That's so dumb. You don't get in trouble really for saying 'crap'. Who 'crap' isn't a bad word, but 'shit' is? They mean the same thing don't they? I just don't get it. And I think it will always be like this. Which is a shame. You should be able to express yourself however you want, right?
Procrastination
I've been procrastinating all weekend. I have all this english homework to do and I've had since Thursday to do it. But I haven't started until now. And the only reason I'm starting now is because I know I have to work tonight and tomorrow night so there's no other time for me to do it. But why do we procrastinate? I will do anything I can find to do just to put off the important things that I know I need to get done. Like I'll wash dishes-something I hate to do, I'll do my laundry, make my bed, find anything that could possibly be done, just to avoid doing my homework. Why is that? Is there something in our brains that makes us do it? Or is it just for the sole fact that we are dreading our homework. Who knows?
I'm glad we only have to write three blogs a week now because it makes it easier for me not to procrastinate that. Knowing that I only have three makes me less stressed about all the homework I have. Hopefully I won't procrastinate that anymore. But I probably will. I actually find comfort in procrastinating. It's like I know I'd be relieved if I was just completely done with my homework, but it's kind of like something I've always done, so it comforts me. Is anyone else like that? Do you LIKE to procrastinate? I do. I don't think I'll ever change. I'll always be a chronic procrastinator.
I'm glad we only have to write three blogs a week now because it makes it easier for me not to procrastinate that. Knowing that I only have three makes me less stressed about all the homework I have. Hopefully I won't procrastinate that anymore. But I probably will. I actually find comfort in procrastinating. It's like I know I'd be relieved if I was just completely done with my homework, but it's kind of like something I've always done, so it comforts me. Is anyone else like that? Do you LIKE to procrastinate? I do. I don't think I'll ever change. I'll always be a chronic procrastinator.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Remember when...
So today was kind of a trip down memory lane. I hung out with my ex-boyfriend from like 8th grade for the first time in like 2 years. We've always been really good friends, we just never have time to hang out. It's so funny to talk about things that happened that long ago. I didn't realize how much I had changed since then. I feel like 8th grade was just yesterday but then again it seems so long ago. In 8th grade you're so care-free and just having fun and now it's like you're doing real shit and actually having a life. Which some times is a good thing, but sometimes you wish it was just 8th grade again. I was so naive and innocent back then, but now things are so complicated...it's hard to be innocent. But it's fun to escape, if only for a day, back to a time when your biggest worry was if that guy was going to hold your hand at the movies. lol...it seems like so long ago. there's a little bit of that 8th grader in all of us....it's fun to remember it every now and then.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Hedda what?
So I just got back from seeing the production of Hedda Gabler at our school's theatre. I went because my roommate was required to go for her theatre class and she didn't want to go alone. If you've been thinking about going, let me save you a trip. Don't. It was the most boring two and a half hours of my life. Yes that's right-two and a half hours! What play is two and a half hours that isn't a musical? I was counting the minutes until it was over. It was gruesome
It was so weird and confusing. I have no idea what the point of the play was. I hate things that seem to never have a point. And that's what this was. It had a story, I guess, but not really a plot. There didn't seem to be any purpose for anything that was happening. It didn't seem realistic at all. The main character was a black woman who was married to a prominant white man in the 1950's...which doesn't seem realistic in itself. And she was a bitch. A crazy bitch. And kind of a whore.
I wanted to leave during intermission but my roommate made me stay. I missed Grey's Anatomy for that stupid play! My favorite show of all time and now I have to watch it online tomorrow. Anyways, just take my word for it...this play was awful.
It was so weird and confusing. I have no idea what the point of the play was. I hate things that seem to never have a point. And that's what this was. It had a story, I guess, but not really a plot. There didn't seem to be any purpose for anything that was happening. It didn't seem realistic at all. The main character was a black woman who was married to a prominant white man in the 1950's...which doesn't seem realistic in itself. And she was a bitch. A crazy bitch. And kind of a whore.
I wanted to leave during intermission but my roommate made me stay. I missed Grey's Anatomy for that stupid play! My favorite show of all time and now I have to watch it online tomorrow. Anyways, just take my word for it...this play was awful.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Hay
When reading this story there are many images that come to mind. However, one of them was not hay. He mentioned hay a few times but it wasn't something that stuck out to me particularly. But when I think of hay, a lot of things come to my mind.
When I was little, we lived in Florida for about five years and my grandparentshave always lived there so we visit quite a bit. I don't know how familiar anyone is with Florida plants, but one plant very common in Florida, that isn't seen much here, is Spanish moss. Now I know, what does this have to do with hay? Well whenever I saw Spanish moss when I was little, I called it hay. I knew what it was, for my mother corrected me everytime I called it hay, but I didn't care. I ignored her. I didn't see a lot of hay, so to me it was hay.
Hay doesn't look anything like Spanish moss. Hay is brash and piney. It's yellow and often seen in bales. Spanish moss on the other hand is stringy and grey. It's mostly found in the trees of Florida. When I think of hay, I think of something fun, associated with hay-rides and campfires. Spanish moss isn't associated with anything. But to me, it's my hay. To this day, when visiting my grandparents, we'll pass a tree and my mom will say "Look, hay!"
When I was little, we lived in Florida for about five years and my grandparentshave always lived there so we visit quite a bit. I don't know how familiar anyone is with Florida plants, but one plant very common in Florida, that isn't seen much here, is Spanish moss. Now I know, what does this have to do with hay? Well whenever I saw Spanish moss when I was little, I called it hay. I knew what it was, for my mother corrected me everytime I called it hay, but I didn't care. I ignored her. I didn't see a lot of hay, so to me it was hay.
Hay doesn't look anything like Spanish moss. Hay is brash and piney. It's yellow and often seen in bales. Spanish moss on the other hand is stringy and grey. It's mostly found in the trees of Florida. When I think of hay, I think of something fun, associated with hay-rides and campfires. Spanish moss isn't associated with anything. But to me, it's my hay. To this day, when visiting my grandparents, we'll pass a tree and my mom will say "Look, hay!"
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Blog War
So I was walking with Navid, Meg, and Daniel on the way back from class today when we got to talking about what we're doing for fall break. I mentioned that Friday I'm going to see Kanye West in Nashville and that started it.
I'm sure everyone has heard about the Kanye/50 Cent rivalry. It all started when Kanye was in an interview and when asked if he thought of 50 Cent as his competition he said not really, he thought of Justin Timberlake as more of a competition. If you think of it that's about right. I think of Kanye West as more of a pop rapper....I wouldn't say he's just rap, which is what I think of 50 Cent. So I can see where Justin Timberlake fits in to Kanye West's category more than 50 Cent. Upon hearing this, 50 Cent got all arrogant and claimed he would stop making records if Kanye West's album sold more than his. Well Kanye's album doubled 50 Cent's in the first week. So I guess we won't be hearing much from 50 Cent anymore will we?
Well Meg and Daniel were totally on 50 Cent's side and I was like are you kidding me? Kanye West is clearly a better artist. 50 Cent is like a bitch rapper. He's not all big and bad. I mean he sings about dancing in a club on your birthday. Take a sample of their songs:
You can find me in the club,bottle full of bub, look mami i got the X if you into taken drugs, im in there having sex i aint into maken love, so come give me a hug, if you're into gettin' rubbed
-50 Cent's "In Da Club"
I mean really? That's some powerful text right there...not. I love rap. And yes most of it is degrading and offensive, but at least some of it is clever. I don't think you could say that of 50 Cent.
God show me the way because the devil's trying to break me down (Jesus walks with me) The only thing that I pray is that my feet don't fail me now. (Jesus walks) And I don't think there's nothing I can do now to right my wrongs (Jesus walks with me) I wanna talk to God but I'm afraid because we ain't spoke in so long (I want Jesus).....So here go my single dawg radio needs this They said you can rap anything except for Jesus That means guns, sex, lies, videotape But if I talk bout God my record won't get played Huh?
-Kanye West's "Jesus Walks"
Tell me that's not content. Clearly that sends a better message than 50 Cent's meaningless words. I don't know how anyone can be proud to say they like 50 Cent more than Kanye West.
Anyways, I can't wait to see him Friday. And in my book he will ALWAYS rule over 50 Cent.
I'm sure everyone has heard about the Kanye/50 Cent rivalry. It all started when Kanye was in an interview and when asked if he thought of 50 Cent as his competition he said not really, he thought of Justin Timberlake as more of a competition. If you think of it that's about right. I think of Kanye West as more of a pop rapper....I wouldn't say he's just rap, which is what I think of 50 Cent. So I can see where Justin Timberlake fits in to Kanye West's category more than 50 Cent. Upon hearing this, 50 Cent got all arrogant and claimed he would stop making records if Kanye West's album sold more than his. Well Kanye's album doubled 50 Cent's in the first week. So I guess we won't be hearing much from 50 Cent anymore will we?
Well Meg and Daniel were totally on 50 Cent's side and I was like are you kidding me? Kanye West is clearly a better artist. 50 Cent is like a bitch rapper. He's not all big and bad. I mean he sings about dancing in a club on your birthday. Take a sample of their songs:
You can find me in the club,bottle full of bub, look mami i got the X if you into taken drugs, im in there having sex i aint into maken love, so come give me a hug, if you're into gettin' rubbed
-50 Cent's "In Da Club"
I mean really? That's some powerful text right there...not. I love rap. And yes most of it is degrading and offensive, but at least some of it is clever. I don't think you could say that of 50 Cent.
God show me the way because the devil's trying to break me down (Jesus walks with me) The only thing that I pray is that my feet don't fail me now. (Jesus walks) And I don't think there's nothing I can do now to right my wrongs (Jesus walks with me) I wanna talk to God but I'm afraid because we ain't spoke in so long (I want Jesus).....So here go my single dawg radio needs this They said you can rap anything except for Jesus That means guns, sex, lies, videotape But if I talk bout God my record won't get played Huh?
-Kanye West's "Jesus Walks"
Tell me that's not content. Clearly that sends a better message than 50 Cent's meaningless words. I don't know how anyone can be proud to say they like 50 Cent more than Kanye West.
Anyways, I can't wait to see him Friday. And in my book he will ALWAYS rule over 50 Cent.
The Table
I think the first scene sets the tone for the rest of the essay. The way Mamet describes the table in the nook with the shattered glass-it lets you know what his family suffered through. Mostly what he and his sister suffered through.
It describes the way the stepfather breaks the table and how they know that somehow it is their fault. So in a way everything that happens in the story is their fault. The blood that is associated with the table repeats throughout the story. Every time the table is mentioned, it is associated with something negative.
Mamet used these images to instill feeling into the reader. You feel closer to the story and understand so much of what they go through.
It describes the way the stepfather breaks the table and how they know that somehow it is their fault. So in a way everything that happens in the story is their fault. The blood that is associated with the table repeats throughout the story. Every time the table is mentioned, it is associated with something negative.
Mamet used these images to instill feeling into the reader. You feel closer to the story and understand so much of what they go through.
Frustration
Mamet seems to be affected by frustrations in his memories. All of the violence, starting with his grandfather, came out of frustrations. Being frustrated seems to cause anger which then leads to violence in Mamet’s case.
Mamet saw the effect of frustration from two generations. It started with his grandfather who acted out against his mother when she was growing up. He also saw it from his stepfather and mother.
Frustration is such a hard thing to cope with, I think. It’s hard to accept when you can’t change things, or do things, or make other people do things. Unfortunately some people take frustrations too far and end up with violence. Mamet suffered most of his childhood dealing, with the violence caused by his parents’ frustrations. Once something like that has been instilled in you, it’s hard to get over it. Just as it was hard for Mamet’s mother to get past after she had grown up seeing it all her life.
In the end, all of the frustration has built up in Mamet and he even takes it out on his sister. It’s like a cycle that never ends. They are all affected by it.
Mamet saw the effect of frustration from two generations. It started with his grandfather who acted out against his mother when she was growing up. He also saw it from his stepfather and mother.
Frustration is such a hard thing to cope with, I think. It’s hard to accept when you can’t change things, or do things, or make other people do things. Unfortunately some people take frustrations too far and end up with violence. Mamet suffered most of his childhood dealing, with the violence caused by his parents’ frustrations. Once something like that has been instilled in you, it’s hard to get over it. Just as it was hard for Mamet’s mother to get past after she had grown up seeing it all her life.
In the end, all of the frustration has built up in Mamet and he even takes it out on his sister. It’s like a cycle that never ends. They are all affected by it.
The Play
When I read the part about the play, and how their mother wouldn’t let Mamet’s sister go, I was so mad. It was weird because it was just a story, but I really got angry.
I had an experience when I was in first grade similar to that, which is why, I think, I got so angry. I don’t really remember very many things from first grade but I remember the night of our class’ open house. I remember because my family had gone out to eat at Krystal’s before we had to be at my school. The open house was really important to me because everyone in my class had made shoe box dioramas and we were to present them at the open house. My shoe box was 3-D and had a Polly Pocket figurine inside. I was going to be the first person to present my diorama to all the parents at the open house.
Well my family was eating at Krystal’s and my parents got me a few of the little burgers. As I bit into the first one, I realized that there was mustard on it. I HATE mustard. I couldn’t eat it. But my mom told me we weren’t leaving until I ate them. I just cried the whole time because I couldn’t eat them and I knew I would miss my presentation.
By the time we got to my school, the open house was over. I was so mad at my mom. When our yearbook came out, there was a picture of my class and their parents on open house night and I wasn’t in it. It’s a permanent reminder of that night.
Mamet’s mother did the same thing to his sister. I was infuriated while reading about the play. I know how she felt.
I had an experience when I was in first grade similar to that, which is why, I think, I got so angry. I don’t really remember very many things from first grade but I remember the night of our class’ open house. I remember because my family had gone out to eat at Krystal’s before we had to be at my school. The open house was really important to me because everyone in my class had made shoe box dioramas and we were to present them at the open house. My shoe box was 3-D and had a Polly Pocket figurine inside. I was going to be the first person to present my diorama to all the parents at the open house.
Well my family was eating at Krystal’s and my parents got me a few of the little burgers. As I bit into the first one, I realized that there was mustard on it. I HATE mustard. I couldn’t eat it. But my mom told me we weren’t leaving until I ate them. I just cried the whole time because I couldn’t eat them and I knew I would miss my presentation.
By the time we got to my school, the open house was over. I was so mad at my mom. When our yearbook came out, there was a picture of my class and their parents on open house night and I wasn’t in it. It’s a permanent reminder of that night.
Mamet’s mother did the same thing to his sister. I was infuriated while reading about the play. I know how she felt.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
R.I.P. Taylor Bradford
From the information I know about what happened this weekend, it seems like such a senseless act. Something that did not need to happen. I didn’t personally know Taylor Bradford, but I’m friends with a lot of his friends on the football team. I was at work when I first heard what happened but at that point they hadn’t pronounced him dead. All it said on the news was that the dorms were on lock down. That affected me because I live in the dorms. I wondered if I would be able to get home. But I did get home and I didn’t learn anything else about the situation until I woke up the next morning.
When I woke up I learned that all our classes had been cancelled. I thought hey no school! Awesome. But it’s hard to be excited about it when it was caused by such a tragic event. Then I talked to my roommate and found out some more information about what happened.
From what I understand, Taylor went with some of the guys from the football team to the casinos on Friday. Taylor won some ridiculous amount of money (I’ve heard $15,000 but I’ve also heard up to $30,000…anyways it was a lot of money). The shooter knew that Taylor had won the money and killed him in hopes of stealing it. How could someone be so desperate for money that they would kill a person over it? And it was someone who knew Taylor. Someone who knew what a genuinely good person he was. It seems so dumb. Here you are, you’ve just killed someone, and for what? The killer didn’t get the money. It was so senseless. I feel for his family. I can’t imagine having to get that phone call as a parent and having to drive all the way from Nashville only to arrive and never see your son alive again. It’s so sad.
I don’t feel any less safe on campus. It wasn’t a random attack. It was someone who knew Taylor. I think this kind of situation just makes you pause, even if only for a moment, and realize what you have. It’s almost surreal that something like this could happen so close to us, or anywhere for that matter. I believe though that everything happens for a reason, and even though it seems there could be no possible reason for this to happen, it helps us get through it.
But is there anything we can do about this? Whose fault, if any, was it? Is society to blame? Poverty? How can we get back to normal? There are so many questions but no answers. Taylor was a good guy. He wasn’t my friend, but I feel like I knew him. We all knew him, or someone like him. It could happen to anyone. This does affect us. Even if we don’t know what to do about it.
When I woke up I learned that all our classes had been cancelled. I thought hey no school! Awesome. But it’s hard to be excited about it when it was caused by such a tragic event. Then I talked to my roommate and found out some more information about what happened.
From what I understand, Taylor went with some of the guys from the football team to the casinos on Friday. Taylor won some ridiculous amount of money (I’ve heard $15,000 but I’ve also heard up to $30,000…anyways it was a lot of money). The shooter knew that Taylor had won the money and killed him in hopes of stealing it. How could someone be so desperate for money that they would kill a person over it? And it was someone who knew Taylor. Someone who knew what a genuinely good person he was. It seems so dumb. Here you are, you’ve just killed someone, and for what? The killer didn’t get the money. It was so senseless. I feel for his family. I can’t imagine having to get that phone call as a parent and having to drive all the way from Nashville only to arrive and never see your son alive again. It’s so sad.
I don’t feel any less safe on campus. It wasn’t a random attack. It was someone who knew Taylor. I think this kind of situation just makes you pause, even if only for a moment, and realize what you have. It’s almost surreal that something like this could happen so close to us, or anywhere for that matter. I believe though that everything happens for a reason, and even though it seems there could be no possible reason for this to happen, it helps us get through it.
But is there anything we can do about this? Whose fault, if any, was it? Is society to blame? Poverty? How can we get back to normal? There are so many questions but no answers. Taylor was a good guy. He wasn’t my friend, but I feel like I knew him. We all knew him, or someone like him. It could happen to anyone. This does affect us. Even if we don’t know what to do about it.
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