My journey making a new friend, my struggle to balance friendship and a brotherly bond. These are my invaluable experiences. This blog is intended to organize my feelings as I begin my friendship with my new little, who I will call Tommy for the purpose of this blog.

My friend gave me a jar to put on my shelf where I could place my most valued ideas. I should just screw off the top and there in I would plop all of my thoughts. They would cascade into this jar of mine, whirling and spinning around.

But before I could twist off this top to plop my very own opinions and ideas, I had to listen to my friend’s thoughtless thoughts. For his are grossly graver than any wishes of miniscule me. Twist went the lid and out he let slid all what could have been my precious impressions and aims. Then all that I knew was what he put into my jar of a friend’s ideas.

On my shelf it now sits with the crumbling cork covering what I could never put in. My abandoned eyes gaze with an unworried head haze fixed on this sated jar. Shallow and silly it seems nay knowing ones own dreams. I’m watching others’ dreams spinning and twirling on my shelf in a jar.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Week 3

All things considered and a good afternoon to you. What have we examined today; Mainly Jewish American literature, unlikely poetic rhythms, strategic marketing planners, la historia chicana, cultural norms, and emigration assimilation. So unimportantly interesting class is. I thought of my little today. How important he is to me already. The brother I never had. He is outstandingly interesting, worthwhile. What is he doing today? How did his football game go? Did he go? Win? Did he do his math homework like he promised me, so we could play catch for longer next time? I want to provide for him like a father. I want to share with him my worldly insights like a brother. He’s so angry. I want to share the love my parents instilled in me with him. It’s too hard. Weeks go by and his grades continue to slip. The hours we spend together aren’t enough. He’s not so angry when he’s with me though. His teachers don’t respect him. I hate that. I hate them sometimes for giving up on him. For sitting in their chairs comfortably numb while he struggles through spelling assignments alone. They don’t challenge him. They cripple him with their empty criticisms and punishments. I want to meet his mother. Thank here for her long hours cleaning the place she works. She’s always busy though. Tommy tells me she hates work. I ask him what he wants to do with his life. He says video games. I say okay. I love his dreams. I miss mine. When was the last time I dreamt? Probably the last time I played with LEGOs. Tommy doesn’t like LEGOs. At least we like football. We have goals. We are going to find a favorite subject. We are going to get better at catching the football. We are going to finish all of our coursework. We are going to be thankful for what we have. We are going to be positive. We are embracing what’s important to us. We are setting goals to be successful in the future. Tommy doesn’t really want to go to college. Well only on a football scholarship. His mother didn’t go to college. His real brother didn’t go to college. He used to look up to his brother, he told me. Tommy said that his brother used to be big and strong. He was smart and happy, his brother. He stole things, Tommy said. Now he’s not so strong anymore after all the jail time. Tommy missed him during his long stints in and out of “that place.” Tommy doesn’t like to be around him. I think he sees himself in his brother and it scares him. We talk about sin. Stealing is the worst sin he says. Not just belongings of others, but of lives, of feelings of happiness. Stealing is the worst sin. He tells me that I am a good big brother. I don’t steal. My heart soars and sinks at the same time. Is there anything I wouldn’t do for this kid? I am so vulnerable and yet two feet taller than he is. Buy him a new football. Pick him up. Drop him off. It’s not enough. He likes to walk around school when I come to visit. Especially when the halls are crowded. He likes to show me off. He doesn’t care that the other kids know I’m not really his brother. He doesn’t care that he only has a few shirts on rotation for school days. At the end of the day when we say goodbye, it’s quick and insincere. Its like he’s embarrassed of our time now ending. Tommy is a part of my community. In the valley of houses below my Fraternity house, is where Tommy lives. I am so selfish for the time I spent atop this hill staring blankly, innocently at the beauty of this view. I am devoted to him as a puppy to a newfound friend. I will not fail at this service to my community and to my friend. There are so many ways to fail and so few ways to succeed. No. That is thinking negatively. We have our goals, Tommy and I. Friends stick to their words, they do, and we are friends.

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