Why Can't Big Boys Cry?

Growing up with anxiety gave me a lot to cry about as a kid.  I was afraid of the dark, afraid of people, afraid of water (swimming).  When put in an uncomfortable situation, I would usually cry.  It took me years to overcome this.  There have been times as an adult where I was put in an uncomfortable situation and the only thing I could do was shed a few tears.  In today's society, this is really embarrassing.  I'm actually embarrassed to be writing about this.  We as a society are just fine with women crying.  They are allowed to show emotion.  But Heaven forbid if a boy should cry.  Buck up!  Big boys don't cry.
It seems as though boys are taught to hide their emotions.  I tried to hide mine for years.  All that bottled up emotion has to come out eventually.  Let's just hope no one is around when it happens.
I don't remember the last time I cried, which is a huge improvement for me.  But when I keep my emotions to myself and let them build up inside me, I usually end up crying eventually.  But different people react in different ways.  Some people, after hiding their emotions, can become angry and lash out at loved ones.  Not only is that unhealthy, it is potentially dangerous for others.
Remember those t-shirts that said "Real Men Wear Pink"?  It's true.  Real men do wear pink.  Real men also show emotion.  They express their feelings openly.  Women, don't assume that men are heartless, soulless beings.  And men, don't be afraid to show that you have a heart.  Don't be afraid to cry a little, laugh sometimes, and love a lot.  You'll be doing yourself a favor.

Keep Calm and...

"Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish."
-John Quincy Adams

President Adams certainly knew what he was talking about.  I've been thinking a lot about patience.  Not to toot my own horn, but my strongest trait is my patience.  I have been told that I have the 'patience of a saint'.  I never really had to learn to be patient.  It just came naturally.  But I have experienced impatience.  It was not a pleasant experience.
The last time I lost my patience, I got really angry with the situation I was in, which resulted in me quitting my job as a shift manager at a restaurant.  (It all worked out in the end.  I love my current job!)  What I learned from this experience was the difference between getting angry and getting frustrated. 
I don't know about you, but when I get angry, I tend to only focus on that which has angered me.  By dwelling upon the situation, I just get angrier and angrier until I eventually give up.
When I am frustrated, however, I can still find ways to resolve the problem.  I am stressed out, but not to the point of giving up.  I am still able to think clearly and get through whatever problem I am facing.
Patience plays a big part in this.  When I get frustrated, I haven't quite gotten to the point where I have lost my patience.  When I get angry, though, all patience is gone.  As you can see, patience can be important in deciding what kind of mood you will be in.  For me, I just keep in mind that through patience, I tend to better get things done. 
The number one cause of people losing patience, in my opinion, is usually in dealing with other people.  No one thinks the way I do, acts exactly the same way I do.  It's easy to lose patience with them.  I just keep in mind that everyone is human.  Everyone makes mistakes.  You shouldn't lose patience with someone because of a mistake they made when you make mistakes in your life as well.  Just remember that in order to love life, you need to keep calm and be patient.

(On a side note, for my Christian friends, my mom taught me to never pray for patience.  Heavenly Father has a sense of humor.  He won't give you patience.  He will teach you patience.  So when you pray for patience, expect things to go terribly wrong.  It's just God trying to teach you a lesson!)

A World Without Imagination

The past few visits with my nephew have been a blast.  He's at a stage in life where everyone is a superhero.  When he is visiting, we fight crime, watch superhero shows, play with masks and action figures, and serve justice...all before nap time.  Playing pretend is always so much fun.  I love my nephew's wild imagination.  I don't get to use my imagination much anymore.

As a child, I had a crazy imagination.  I didn't ask my parents very many questions.  I just made up reasons for things.  For example, one question I do remember asking my mom was how the street lights know when to turn on in the evening and off in the morning.  She said something about computers.  I got it in my head that there were tiny people sitting inside those street lamps playing solitaire on their computers until it was time to light up the neighborhood.

I also remember playing The Floor is Lava with my siblings.  We would gather all our pillows and blankets and jump from pillow to pillow onto our lava resistant ship built from blankets.

While working with kids for the last eight years (Cub Scouts, Primary, babysitting), I've begun to notice a decrease in imagination.  I've witnessed children pretending, but only what they've seen on TV.  They rarely come up with their own stories.  They will, in fact, recite full lines from movies and TV shows.

What does this say about today's children?  Are they spending too much time in front of the television?  How about iPads and Tablets?  The games they are playing are preprogrammed to work a certain way.  No need for imagination there.  And even public schools are cutting back on teaching children how to be imaginative.  If a school district is running low on money, what is usually the first thing to be cut?  Music and art, where children are free to express themselves.

What can we do about this?  Unplug the kids.  Give them an arts and crafts project.  Let them play make believe.  Read to them.  Through books, children can be taken to a new world that they have to picture in their minds, assuming we're reading a novel and not a picture book.  

A world without imagination is a world I don't wish to be a part of.  Without imagination there would be no future.  No new ideas or inventions.  Nothing would ever change.  So next time I'm pretending to be a superhero with my nephew, I'm going to tell him that his greatest super power is real.  Imagination is a super power.  Imagine that.

Does That Make Me Racist?

I've been seeing a lot of posts lately claiming that white people are born racist.  I always thought this was nonsense.  The way one is raised determines what they believe.  And then I thought about an event that had occurred in my life.
One summer night, a little before midnight, my older sister and I were driving a friend back to his home.  He lived in a rough neighborhood with a mostly black population.  After saying our goodbyes, my sister and I headed home.  While still in the neighborhood, we drove passed two black teen boys.  One of them jumped on our car and then slipped off the other side.  This event really freaked us out.
Arriving home around midnight, we pull into out parking space and witness a black women walking into our home.  Again, we were a little freaked out.  But why were we so distressed?  Would my sister and I have acted the same way if a white woman were walking into our house at midnight?  Honestly, I don't think we would have.  We would have been confused, but probably not worried.
After warily walking into the house, my sister and I found our next door neighbor, who was extremely pregnant, with my mom in the basement.  She couldn't sleep and wanted to see what we had done with our basement.  This woman and her husband, both black, were the best next door neighbors we had ever had.  My sister and I both felt very guilty for assuming something bad was going to happen.
I am not racist.  My sister is not racist.  No one in my immediate family is racist.  I think that my sister and I were still stressed out from the teen boy jumping on our car.  Because of this stress, seeing a black women walking into our home made us a little cautious.
I hope no one thinks any differently of me (or my sister) because of this little blurb of an event.  This happened probably twelve years ago, but it's still on my mind to this day.  It bothers me that I judged such a wonderful woman based on someone else's actions.  My parents were very firm about teaching my siblings and I to love our neighbors.  Not just our literal neighbors, but those who we see in our everyday lives.
I don't offend easily, but those posts claiming that (to a certain degree) all white people are racist really upset me.  It's like I'm being accused of a crime I didn't commit.  I am not a racist.  A person is a person, no matter what they look like. Treat everyone the same way.  Love everyone. 

A Simple Case of Hypocrisy

Written by Anna Kretchman (my younger sister)
Why are we okay with songs like "Shape of You" (by Ed Sheeran)? Why do we rage on about rape and abuse while jamming out to songs about objectifying people?
"Shape of You" came on at work the other day and I literally had to go on break and try not to just start sobbing. I couldn't get it out of my head for a good fifteen minutes.
You see, I know what it feels like to be seen more as a body than as a person. I know what happens when the "shape of" a person is the main focus. Nothing good.
So I cannot be okay with glorifying situations in songs, movies, etc. where sex is the main focus of a relationship. I can’t be okay with one night stands and “friends with benefits.” I can’t be okay with everyone being okay with these things.
Why do we all want someone to love us for who we are, and yet everything in the media shows us that it’s fine to just love someone’s body? Why is everyone so angry when someone is molested, when children are being raised listening to horrible messages set to catchy music? Oh wait, you mean it’s NOT okay to just want someone’s body? Then why is that a common theme in everything that we see and hear? Why is it becoming harder and harder to find anything “virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy” in the media when we all are horrified by what the media is teaching the world to do?
I can personally say that I’ve experienced someone loving the “shape of me” above all else and let me tell you, it didn’t make me feel beautiful or sexy. It made me feel violated. It made me feel like I, me as a person, wasn’t enough. So pardon me if I’m not going to listen to all of the popular tunes on the radio with you.

A Lesson in Literature

I love getting lost in a good book.  Entering new worlds.  Going on epic adventures.  Feeling like I am someone else (got to love books written in the first person!).  Out of the dozens of books I have read in my 26 years on Earth, few have stayed with me.  I easily forget plot and characters.  But there are two books that will stay with me forever.  I could read them over and over again.  These books are Milkweed by Jerry Spinelli and The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer.  Both books are aimed for a younger audience, middle school to early high school.
Milkweed follows a young boy in WWII Poland.  He finds himself in the Warsaw Ghetto, not knowing what is going on.  His innocent view of the world around him leaves the reader with an optimistic viewpoint of life.
The House of the Scorpion, which I am currently re-reading, is about a boy, Matteo, who finds out he is the clone of a wealthy drug lord.  An intense series of events eventually shows the reason behind Matteo's being 'born'.
The thing about these two books that really stand out to me is the childlike innocence of the main characters.  Horrible things are happening in the lives of these boys, but they somehow manage to find and hold on to the good things in life.
As an adult, I know I really struggle with seeing the good in the world.  Watching the news is terrifying!  Through reading books such as Milkweed and The House of the Scorpion, I am able to alter my perspective on things which, honestly, is much needed nowadays.   

Over Thinking Snow

I hate snow.  So much!  It's cold, it's wet, and it just gets in the way.  It's difficult to drive in.  Classes are cancelled, so your boss expects you to come in early.  Snow is awful.
This past week, however, after 2017's Snowstorm Stella, I learned to love snow again.  Well, maybe not love.  But I am enjoying it again.  Working with kids will do that to you.  Last time it snowed, one of the boys and I built a snowman.  Yesterday, all three boys and I went sledding.  Today, the five year old and I built a snow fort and did some more sledding. It took a child to show me that snow can still be fun.  It's amazing how points of views can change when it comes to people you care about.
Which brings me to over thinking snow.  Try to keep up.
Driving home from work today, I was thinking about the fun I had in the snow with the boys this week.  I was thinking about how I go the extra mile for them because I care about them.  Which got me wondering if I would go the extra mile for those I don't get along with.  I realized that I probably would not.
I wish to change that.  I was raised to treat everyone equally.  If someone is being mean to me, I still love them and show respect to them.  (I have this conversation with the five year old twice a week.)  I need to treat everyone as if I care about them.  Because I should care about them.  They are human, just like me.
So there you have it.  I've been enlightened by snow.

Who Am I?

When I think about all the things I do with my life, I make myself sound like the perfect individual who always keeps himself busy.  I have an awesome part-time job.  I'm taking an online class.  I am a Cub Scout leader.  I teach Primary (children's Sunday School).  I keep up with a weekly blog.  I make it seem as though I have my life under control.  This couldn't be farther from the truth.
At (nearly) 26-years old, I am pretty sure I have already gone through a mid-life crisis...multiple times.  I am now on my fourth Major change at school.  I often find myself wondering if I should just give up on school.  Is it really worth the money and stress?  I often think about quitting Cub Scouts.  What do the boys have to learn from me anyway?
Growing up, I was a quitter.  I quit sports.  I quit projects.  I had very low self efficacy.  As an adult, I see how that has affected my life.  It has always been easier for me to quit than to follow through.  When things get difficult, what is the point of going on?  Now I see that quitting is rarely the answer.  How am I to progress in life if I keep giving up?
I recently switched my Major from English Education to Physical/Occupational Therapy.  A lot of science classes are required.  After math, science is my least favorite subject.  But I got a B last semester in Biology.  I honestly didn't think that was possible.  Because of that B, my whole view on how to live my life has changed.  I never really thought that I could be whatever I wanted to be.  Now I know that anything is possible.  Through hard work and determination, I can reach my goals.  Now let's just hope this is the last time I change my Major.
As for the Cub Scouts, it's easy to lose patience when the boys don't listen and are jumping over the chairs and tables.  Let's play tag instead of listen to Philip!  That's my normal Wednesday night.  I gave up on the boys for a while.  Sure, I still went on Wednesdays.  I still attempted to teach them.  But it never seemed to work out for me.  But after being hired as a manny, I have learned how to better react to the boys, how to better teach them.  I am still struggling, but I finally have the boys participating.
The point I'm trying to make is to not judge others based on what you see or hear.  I try to hide the struggles in my life.  I want people to think that I am strong, that I truly am able to do all the things I do.  But maybe it's time to ask for help.  I shouldn't let life get me down when there are so many people around me willing to lift me up.
Who am I?  I'm Philip, manny, student, Cub Scout leader, blogger and future Physical/Occupational Therapist.  I am who I want to be.  A young man with flaws and much to learn.

Thank You!

I hit 1,000 views this week!  A big THANKS to all of you readers!  I appreciate all the positive feedback.  Please, feel free to share my posts.  I'm hoping to get another 1,000 views.  But this time, in less than 6 months.  My regularly posting certainly helps, but your support is what is important to me.  So go back through my blog and share what you like.  And there is anything you want me to talk about, leave a comment or message me.
Once again, thank you!

I Am a Cracked Pot

Read the title again.  I'm a cracked pot.  A pot with a crack in it.  Now that we've got that cleared up, let me explain myself.
At church this Sunday, one of the speakers told the following story:
(This is written in my words)
There was once a servant who was tasked with retrieving water every day.  Every morning, he would grab his pole and water pots and begin the trek to the water.  One of the water pots had a crack in it.  After retrieving the water, the servant would make his way back to his master's home, the cracked pot emptying ever so slowly.
One day on this trek, the cracked pot asked the servant a question.
"Why do you keep using me to retrieve water?" the cracked pot asked.  "I am cracked and I leak the water that is meant for your master."
The servant smiled and replied, "After we have retrieved the water, look down at the ground as we head back to the master's house."  The cracked pot did just this.  On the way back to the house, the cracked pot noticed flowers growing along the path.
Once the servant was home again, the cracked pot spoke up again.  "I do not understand," it said.  "I saw beautiful flowers, but that is all."
The servant gave another gentle smile and said "How do you think those flowers got there?  After I realized that you had a leak, I decided to plant flower seeds along the path on the side that I carry you.  Everyday, you water those seeds.  They are now the beautiful flowers that you saw today."

After hearing that story, I wondered what my "cracks" were.  I am not perfect.  Nobody is perfect.  We all have our flaws, or cracks.  My biggest flaw is most likely my anxiety disorder.  But instead of letting my disorder control my life, I take the reigns and make something good out of my problems.  Because of my anxiety, I feel that I am more patient.  I am kind.  (And humble, right?)  Acknowledging your flaws is an important step in overcoming them.  Once you have overcome your flaws, it will be easier to help others overcome their flaws, especially if they are similar to your own.  So go find your flaws.  You are a cracked pot.  Don't cover up your flaws.  And definitely don't make them worse! Build upon them.  Work on them.  Become a better you so you can help others become better.

Nothing of Importance

July 4th, 1776 was an important day for the United States.  It was the day that the Declaration of Independence was signed, a final act before the Revolutionary War.  The founding fathers wanted King George III to know that they had had enough.  They were starting their own country.
Meanwhile, over in England, King George III was (supposedly) writing in his journal.  (Upon further investigation, I have found that this story is false.)  The entry for that day was as follows:  'Nothing of importance happened today.'  King George didn't have a Facebook account.  Or Twitter.  Or even a gmail account.  He had to wait days, weeks, maybe even months to find out that something of importance did happen that day.
This story puts a new perspective on my life.  Nothing exciting or important has happened in my life in the past week or so.  But that doesn't mean that changes aren't being made elsewhere.  Life doesn't revolve around me, as much as I like to think it does.  It's hard to forget sometimes that other people have their own lives.
Look around you.  See the world around you.  If you ever feel like your journal entry for the day is going to be the same as King George's, find something to change that.  Make every day important.  Change someone's life.  Change your own life. Make every day worth living. Make every day important.

Living Life Unplugged(ish)

I have a flip phone.  There.  I said it.  I have a flip phone and I love it, despite getting teased about it by co-workers.  I know, it's the same kind of phone you had when you were in middle school.  Yes, it's the same phone your grandma uses.  So why am I using it?  I'll be 26-years old next month.  I'm still young, right?  Why am I using an "old fashioned" phone?  Simple answer:  Because it's available to me.
While everyone else is standing in line waiting to pay hundreds of dollars for the newest smart phone, I am at home, sleeping in my bed knowing that I am saving money by not upgrading.  Believe it or not, smart phones are not a necessity.  You can live your life without a smart phone.  All I need is something to call and text people with.  I don't need a hand held computer.  I don't plan on straining my eyes so I can watch my favorite shows on a six inch screen.  I want to enjoy what is going on around me.
As all my Facebook friends can probably tell you, I love memes.  I spend a lot of time on my computer just viewing and posting funny pictures and tagging friends.  Just imagine if I could do that from my phone.  I would have a lot of trouble focusing on the people around me.  I've seen how some people get sucked into the tiny, virtual world in their hands.  They are completely unaware of what is happening around them.  I don't want to be like that.
I also love the fact that I can drop my phone a dozen times, and nothing ever happens.  My screen in still intact.  And I can even fit my phone in my pocket.  I see people carrying their phones around because they have nowhere to put it.  I don't like carrying things around.  I like to have two hands free.  Most importantly, though, I can snap my phone shut.  I feel so invigorated when I end a conversation and then snap my phone shut!
Seriously, though, I really do think that having all the apps and features on smart phones is taking away from our humanity.  Take a look around you.  When I'm walking on campus I can usually count on my fingers the number of people not on their phones.  Everyone is walking while texting or googling or tweeting or Snapchatting.  Put the phone down and enjoy the world around you.  Have face to face conversations with your friends.  Try something new.  It truly saddens me to see everyone lost in their phones.
This is why I have a flip phone.  I don't want to be lost in a virtual world.  I want to experience the world around me, the good and the bad.  I want to experience life.

Related Article
Clayton, Nick. "Should you dump your smartphone for a flip-phone?" BBC. BBC, 21 Apr. 2016. Web. 9 Feb. 2017.

Stampler, Laura. "The Few, The Proud: The Millennials Who Still Use Flip Phones." Time. N.p., 18 Sept. 2014. Web. 8 Feb. 2017.  

Let's Just Tear Down the Statue of Liberty!

Did the title get your attention?  Good.  I don't actually want to tear down Lady Liberty, but it seems as though our great nation may be coming to this.  With all the controversy about President Trump's recent executive order banning travellers from certain countries, it seems as though we have forgotten what the Statue of Liberty stands for.  Time for a history lesson.
A man by the name of Edouard de Laboulaye, after witnessing the end of the American Civil War, wanted to bring his home nation of France closer to their ally the United States.  He proposed the construction of a monument to celebrate justice and liberty for all.  The Frenchman believed that the United States was a place where people were free to live whatever life they wanted.
Ten years later, de Laboulaye worked together with his sculptor friend Frederic Auguste Bartholdi to make his dream a reality.  Bartholdi was put in charge of sculpting and construction.  The United States was in charge of erecting a pedestal.  Everything was coming together nicely.  Until both the US and France realized they didn't have the funds to complete the statue.  After various forms of donations and fundraising, the Statue of Liberty was built and shipped to the United States.  Since then, Lady Liberty has greeted and welcomed foreigners into the Land of the Free.
Nearly 150 years later, the Statue of Liberty still stands.  But have Americans forgotten what she stands for?  People are being persecuted and turned away because their religion.  There is talk of a wall being built to keep out our southern neighbors.  Oh the irony!  One hundred and fifty years ago, our ancestors campaigned to raise money to build a monument to their freedom, to help them remember that we were all immigrants at one time.  Now, in the present, people are campaigning for a wall.  Taxes will most likely be raised in order to pay for the wall.  One hundred and fifty years isn't a long time.  But look what has become of us.  We went from a generation who was willing to allow others into their country to a generation concerned more about themselves than others.  So there you have it.  Let's tear down the Statue of Liberty.  It only seems fitting.

Works Cited
"Edouard de Laboulaye." National Park Service. National Park Service US Department of the Interior, n.d. Web. 2 Feb. 2017.

"Statue History." Liberty Ellis Foundation. N.p., 2017. Web. 31 Jan. 2017.