Well, another semester begins. Having technically been a student at my university since 2013, it almost feels routine. The anxiety and the excitement that used to come with every year of undergrad is slowly withering away as I do my degree plan at my own pace.
Suddenly, I don't feel an urge to graduate "on time". There's really no one that I'm looking forward to graduating with (to all my friends and colleagues reading this, I mean no offense). I've walked the stage before, and it seems all good and done from that point onward. After getting my bachelor's degree, it's basically been a free-fall through my goals and career aspirations.
It's been a rough transition, though. In my humble, little free-fall, I crashed into several branches and other obstacles. I entered graduate school with my old undergrad mentality of finishing the degree within the societal expectation of two years. Unfortunately, my rush led to one of the worst burnouts I experienced in my academic life. I wound up seeing my old family psychiatrist for some input and advice.
It turned out that I let myself conform to the inhuman machinery of societal pressure:
Don't you dare slow down or fall out.
Finish within the track that's posted on the degree plan.
No one wants the stragglers.
When I let those voices get to my head, I unfortunately paid the price with regard to self-care and sleep. A lot raced through my head, way more than it should have been. By the end of the year, I was mentally unfit to continue on the rush track.
I have to personally give my utmost gratitude to my psychiatrist and friend for waking me up to the reality of my situation. Truth is, I have a unique story that shouldn't be confined to mere societal expectations of a graduate student's track. I run at my own pace, and I fall where I will. A graduation year is but a number, but self-care is priceless. Who cares if it takes me an additional year or two? I have my own story to write, and my chapters can be as long as I want them to be.
Human growth is not a race, and it shouldn't be. The only person you need to worry about surpassing is yourself. Be better than your yesterday, and the results will come at a natural time for you and no one else.
I drove home to the sight of emergency lights just down the street from my
house this evening. There’s something about sights like this that often make me
reflect on the state of the community around me. Of course, living in a
city like Chicago, stuff like this is more or less commonplace.
I
wonder what sort of situation happened there and who was involved in
cases like this. At the same time, I think about what sort of conditions
led to this moment. Being the over-analyst that I am sometimes, I can’t
help but feel an urge to figure out and do something to better such
conditions.
I guess it’s that inner urge to “make a
difference”—as corny as it sounds nowadays—that drove me to pursue
studies in education. I’d hope it would be the little I could at least
contribute to the mess around me. Even as I majored in regular history
for my undergraduate studies, I wondered what impact I could make with
whatever career I pursued. At this point, I was aware of struggles that some of my fellow students were going through as well as other incidents back home in my neighborhood.
A friend and I helped repaint one of the buildings at a Catholic parish in Jamaica. Back when I had a flowing mane.
I was fortunate to have a lot of opportunities to serve those in need during my undergraduate years at UIC. At the St. John Paul II Newman Center--as it is called right now ;)--I volunteered for a few mission trips to places such as Jamaica and Appalachia, and I participated in a few service projects back home in the city. I thoroughly enjoyed these moments and the people I served, but after finishing my service trips, I longed to do more. I wanted to do service that was long-term, not just a day or two weeks. I now wanted to develop myself more in service and pursue a career in which I could help others and build up my community.
Today, I'm getting ready to begin my master's program this fall. I have committed to getting my degree and teacher's license, knowing that I will be preparing myself to serve today's generation of youth and giving them what they need to take on life and the world ahead of them. I now feel like I've discovered at least part of my vocation, and I'm both nervous and excited to see what God will have in store for me next.
On a more serious note, I duly apologize for not having written in months. Unfortunately, school and work dominated much of my Lent and Pascha/Easter, leaving me little to no time to write. With the conclusion of my second online semester, though, I'm taking the opportunity I have to provide content on this blog.
A lot has happened since last post. I finally got accepted into the master's in teaching program at UIC, and I am also in the process of getting into the ROTC program at that school. I'm very much excited to start yet another chapter in my life and finally achieve my goals to become a high school teacher and an Army officer. In the meantime, I'm just about halfway through with my current online certification with George Mason University, and I will soon get ready to start my internship with the Smithsonian Institute this fall!
I had a wonderful Lent, Holy Week, and Pascha this year. Aside from at least one thing breaking per day in the church during Holy Week (and me almost tripping and setting myself on fire on Good Friday), I had a great time serving and praying at all the services. I'm currently in the process of seeking a spiritual director to help me discern my vocation, which I will hopefully delve into later on.
It's a bit of a short update, but I promise I have a lot of ideas developed during my little hiatus. Be sure to follow me on Instagram and Facebook for updates! Thanks for stopping by!
I woke up this morning and checked my news feed. First item I see is a post about a mass shooting at a Jason Aldean concert at Las Vegas. At work, I watch news coverage about this tragedy; it pained my heart seeing the footage of gunfire erupting onto the crowds. With more than fifty dead and hundreds more wounded, today has shaken me to the core.
I mourn those lost, and I extend my sympathy and prayers to their loved ones. To save a portion of your life to be with those you love only to witness them being taken away is senseless and outrageous. It is absolutely unfair for that joy to be taken away.
As I sit in my room writing in silence, I reflect on the movement of the souls present on that day. Joyful souls celebrating with those they loved. A disturbed soul moved to inflict death and sorrow. The joyful souls turning to fear and anxiety when the pain is wrought. And brave souls pouring in to protect the helpless.
In the midst of sorrow and rage in the aftermath of the attack, I stress that we do not forget the love pouring in that night. I want to extend thanks to the first responders who came in to provide safety and security for the victims; these are people to look to as inspiration. In spite of the darkness covering that event, there were people who came to serve as beacons of love showering hope upon everyone. From first responders to those calling in and praying to ensure their loved ones' safety, many acts of love were committed that day in response to the gunman's singular act of hatred.
I'm not writing to debate gun control or any issue related to this. I reflect on the trial of human suffering; in spite of the worst that can be brought out of humanity, it can never truly quench the good that can come out of those willing to sacrifice for others. In the midst of tragedy and suffering exemplified by the recent hurricanes and last night's attack, never lose your focus on the good, little as it may seem.
"I will spend my heaven doing good on earth. I will let fall a shower of roses." --St. Therese of Lisieux
I found it fitting to use this quote from St. Therese, as her feast day was just yesterday. In her short life, she committed numerous little acts of love that nonetheless impacted her family, her congregation, and ultimately, the Church. Her "Little Way" serves as a model for those who might think their little good cannot overcome the evils in this world. As long as there is commitment to Love, hatred and evil cannot conquer us. In the midst of evil, let fall your roses.
I was driving back home, with my phone hooked via AUX cord, and this song started playing:
I haven't delved deep enough into Linkin Park's music enough to consider myself a fan, but, in light of Chester Bennington's passing (as late as this post may be), I wanted to share how this particular song brought closure to one of the darkest chapters in my life.
Waiting for the end to come
Wishing I had strength to stand
This is not what I had planned
It's out of my control
A year prior to the release of Linkin Park's A Thousand Suns (the album in which this song is found), I was facing multiple struggles in my first semester of high school. I couldn't maintain consistency in my studies, and I was struggling to make passing grades in a couple of my classes. To make matters worse, I let myself become the victim of bullying and harassment; I was making an idiotic spectacle of myself in front of my peers, no matter how many times I tried to stand up for myself. It was only the first semester of my freshman year, and I was already being caught up in the storm of high school drama.
What was left when that fire was gone?
I thought it felt right but that right was wrong
All caught up in the eye of the storm
And trying to figure out what it's like moving on
And I don't even know what kind of things I said
My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead
The breaking point came towards the end of that semester. I had been chatting with a classmate on Facebook regarding one of the students who had been bullying me, but misunderstandings led to argument, and it escalated to the point where I, in a fit of uncontrolled rage, sent online threats to peers who I suspected of sympathizing with the bullies. At that point, I felt like the world was falling apart and collapsing on me, and that decision threw me into confusion and self-doubt. I regretted my decision and deleted the filth I had posted up, but the deed had been done.
Soon after, the incident had been reported to the school, and I was subsequently withdrawn from the student roll, a de facto expulsion. The story spread to the other schools in the area; I had to move to a new district, as my family feared backlash from students who heard about this. In addition, I had to be placed in psych rehab for about a month before I was considered fit to go back to school.
I was completely shattered by what I had done, mentally and spiritually. I quietly contemplated suicide while I languished in a sea of regret and helplessness. I didn't see any reason to keep going in life; I felt forever marked by this sin I had committed.
So I'm picking up the pieces, now where to begin
The hardest part of ending is starting again
Thank God for a wonderful family I was born into. My parents, in spite of the gravity of the situation, never gave up on me. They worked their butts off finding a new school for me and constantly kept me in their prayers, taking me to see Jesus Himself in the Adoration chapel at St. Catherine's in Glenview. Whatever friends I had left after the incident encouraged me to move on, maintaining my resolve to reform and strengthen myself.
Of all the regret and despair that had flooded my mind during my freshman year, I still had some residue of in spite of successfully finding a new environment to thrive in. "What if it happens again next year? What would I do then?" I still had more questions even after that issue had been resolved (on the surface, at least).
It was then that I stumbled onto this song while I was watching a couple of music videos on TV. The message from Waiting For The End struck deep into my heart. I wasn't alone in struggles such as what I went through. There is hope even in the deepest pitfalls of life. Life in general will be hard and trying, but you can push through, with the added bonus of a support group.
It's been almost eight years since that life event, and I still feel the effects, though in a different light. Though I had been broken down to the core, I found an opportunity to grow and learn from my mistakes. I have a more positive outlook on life; I carry my crosses, but I know it doesn't end on Calvary. Am I still struggling? Of course I am, and life will drag on with such, but at least I know I'm not alone and that I can always reach out for even the tiniest spark of hope.
For those of you who may be struggling right now, I hope this little piece of mine helps, shoddy as it is. If you or someone you know may be contemplating taking your own life, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255; that one call could turn the tide of your life.
To conclude this post: Thank you, Chester. Your music saved this life and countless others; may your work continue to impact lives around the world.
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My name is Mark, and I am no longer a Roman Catholic. You may or may not have heard that right.
As of this point in my life, I have left the rites and traditions of this Church, and I am no longer bound to them. All that I was obligated to observe as a Roman Catholic will no longer be considered my tradition. Ash Wednesday? Not something I am encouraged to do now. Divine Mercy Sunday? Not on my calendar either. Easter Sunday? Don't call it Easter anymore.
I've moved on from a defining chapter in my life, and there's no turning back now. I know, it's shocking. But I never said I was straight up leaving the faith, you know.
PLOT TWIST: I'm still Catholic, though not as many would assume.
Today, with the approval of both Cardinal Blase Cupich and Bishop Nicholas Samra, I have transferred from the Latin Catholic Church to the Melkite Greek Catholic Church.
It is true that I am no longer bound to the Latin Church, but who said the Catholic Church was simply that one church? It's much bigger than that.
Truth is, I have discovered that Catholicism is more than just Rome. It is not a single tradition, but rather a family of various Rites and traditions from across the globe. While Latin Catholics commence the Lenten fast on Ash Wednesday, other Catholics have already begun their third day or even third week of Great Lent. While the Latins bury the Alleluia for the duration of Lent, others still proclaim the joyful cry of the Resurrection before the Gospel. The Latins have their Masses, other Catholics have Qurbono on Sunday, yet others have a Divine Liturgy to celebrate.
Truth is, I never the Church altogether. I found more family members, and they have lovingly taken me in as one of their own. I still appreciate my heritage from my Latin Catholic upbringing, and it is that, combined with my new home, that I find what is truly means to be a Catholic.
My name is Mark, and I am now a Melkite Catholic. Yep, you heard that right. Or you may have never heard of that Rite.
