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I'm Just Tryna See Where You're Comin' From

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            The moment she raised her voice and yelled at me, I knew the conversation was over… My fellow coworkers and I were all astonished to witness such an unprofessional act performed by our manager who always did her best to maintain her composure in any given situation.             It happened at the bank I used to work at. (I left because of the unfair bullshit and treatment from my manager, and am now currently employed by another bank). It was myself and several coworkers getting ready to close the branch down. As we proceeded with our usual routines, my manager decided to implement a new procedure in our closing duties. When she explained to us what it was, there was confusion amongst all of us as to why she decided to change the normal process which has already been proven to be the most effective. I decided to voice my opinion and question her to figure out why she is altering the procedure to get a better understanding of her perspective. I wasn’t being rude or disr
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Zen Mode Engage!

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            This feels really nice… In the simplest words, that is how I would describe the contemplative practices in class. But behind the simplicity there is a pleasant status of peace and maybe even momentary nirvana that is achieved if all distractions can be cleared mentally.             Before we begin the meditations, I do my best to empty my mind which sounds a bit more difficult than it seems. Whether it be me thinking of what my plans are for the rest of the day or that annoying song that’s stuck in my mind, it can be tough. What helps, however, is concentrating on not only the sound of my breath, but also the feeling of taking the breath- the expansion and collapse of the chest while the nostrils intake fresh oxygen refreshing the mind as it circulates to find its exit through mouth.             For this certain experience, after I cleared my mind and began to hear the classical music, a story began to unfold in my mind. As I heard the violin and then the piano, the te
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It's All Under Control

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It was another normal day in 8 th grade. I walked into the boy’s locker room picking out my fro as I approached my locker. My buddy Miguel was already there getting dressed into his gym clothes for 6 th period PE. He was a quiet guy, more on the reserved side, but he had a witty tongue on him that only his close friends would witness (he was a shy guy and didn’t really speak in front of people he didn’t know). I’ve known him since 3 rd grade and we were really close at a point in elementary so I knew what he was capable of when it came to humor. We talked and joked around as we both got dressed into our gym clothes like we usually did until our mutual friend Tucker arrived at his locker. Tucker liked to think he was an aggressive kid because he was taller than most of the guys. He also liked to play the role of the antagonist as he seemed to enjoy provoking people. We included him in our conversation because that was the daily automaton in the locker room before we went outsi
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