Chapter 3: Building Blocks “what does it take to be confident”

“Earn the right to be proud and confident”

John Wooden

My sexual urges and desire at 16 were uncontrollable. Almost every thought I had dealt with sex. I got tired of having sexual urges but not being able to physically expressing them. I decided one day to look at Henti (Japanese anime porn). I thought to myself this is something small. Henti not full out porn so it can’t have a negative effect on me. Henti had a massive impact on me because it opened the door for more explicit porn. It was a seed that was planned by lust. I wanted to watch more and more porn until my spirit, mind, and body had a yolk around my neck it weighted me down. Porn took a hold on me very quickly. I became more and more interested about porn. I started to look at beastly porn. I didn’t understand at the time it was wrong to watch that forms a bible stand point but I did know that it was immoral. I was so ashamed of watching porn. It made me feel like a weirdo and it feed in to my insecurity. My biggest fear was that my mom would find out about it and disown me. I had enough wisdom to understand without being told by someone else that watching beastly porn was wrong. I stop watching that and I never looked back at it. It was too late for me in the reared that now my mind was full hooked to watching porn. I could not help it every time I was alone, when people made sexual joke, talking to a beautiful women, or if I’m just sitting I would be thinking of porn.

I should have talk to someone about it but I was too shammed and afraid of being judged by people to open up. It was a hard road to walk alone. One thing I was happy about was that I just started to watch regular porn. I know it was still bad but I said to myself that at least I’m not watching beastly porn. I would spend hours if I had the time on porn. I watched everything accepted hardcore torture porn. I felt like that was the closest thing to rape. I hate rape. The rapier is taking someone essence and raping it apart. It makes the victims lives much harder than it has to be. Being raped damages not only their body but self-esteem, trust, fear/anger and how they love others. It breaks my heart when I hear stories about that. It was sad to me because I could understand the vulnerability. Before I got into fighting I was afraid of being raped because I was physically weak. It was highly unlikely being I’m a boy but me being raised around women I thought about those types of things. As I was watching porn sometimes I would think “do rapiers watch porn…” I know the answer to that question and it would make me feel even worse. It got so bad that my mom find porn on our house computer. She yells “who was watching porn”? She come up to me downstairs and asked me. I said “I don’t know. I never have seen it.” Then my mother says “it was probably Corinthia watching it.” I felt so bad for her. It was not clear how the conversation went between my mom and sister but I didn’t hear anything from my sister about it. I know I had a real unhealthy problem. I could not even tell the truth but I mistakenly blaming it on my sister. I felt like the shiftiest bother. I should have not run from it but I should have stood up as a man and said it was mine.

I would always think not out of an excuse but as the truth. If a man was in the house would those times be different. Maybe I would have someone to talk to about my struggles. It now is just wishful thinking. I can’t change those times. They are part of my past and I just have to deal with them and except them for what they are.

Going into August I was starting high school at South Cobb. First time in my life I felt like I was mental ready for it. My mom took me clothes shopping, so I had a boots of confidents in me on the first day of school. I said to myself I might have problem but I will still grow as a person and make friends. In my freshmen and sophomore years that’s what I did. I was still a little comedian. I could talk to anyone from any walk of life. I was friends with everyone and it didn’t matter to me what people titled was as popular, rejects, gays, lames, teachers, and etc. I called all those people friends. What started to happen to me was my heart became sensitive to people’s stories. I realized everyone has a story of great triumph, love, fear, loss, anger, and happiness. I heard many story from the soul. People trusted me with their stories and I would open up to them about things but never the root of all my pain. I still wasn’t comfortable with opening up about my past pain. I think what set me apart from a lot of other people is I could be emotionally genuine with everyone. I would always smile and bring positive energy to school. If I was not smiling someone would come up to me and ask “hi men are you ok? You don’t seem happy today.” I truly am and was a man of the people.

There were only a couple of thing I hated about my freshmen and sophomore year. One was that I was still in special Ed but it became bearable. I got pull me out my classes twice or three times a week now because of that attention I became a hobble test taker. I was a B/C student. I didn’t apply myself in school. I was afraid if I really put forth the effort in my studies and failed then I really would feel like the label the school system put over me was right that I was Slow. Up to that point even though I know I was not the smartest student I know I was one of the wisest people around me in school. I believe being smart is the world point of view of being knowledgeable but being wise is the spiritual point of view of brilliance. I know what was right and wrong in the world and I had the discernment to choose which one was which. Deep down I didn’t believe what the school label me as. I know I had a purpose that no human could stop or withhold. My purpose was bigger than the label.

Another problem I was having was I didn’t have a girlfriend. I was not a player under any circumstances but I was a gentleman to all women. The women in my life raised me to love and respect all women even if they are a hoe or a pain in my ass. I would never call them out there name or treat them like they were not queens (even if they were not my queen). I want a girl to say to me “I am yours” and I say back “you are mine”. I wanted a girl who I could trust with my secrets and they could trust me with theirs. I wanted a girl who was my lover and friend. A friend who would help me be my best and I could help her be her best. Someone who I could hold in my arms and kiss her tenderly well saying “I will never let you go.” I didn’t know at the time I was looking for a wife. God put something in my spirit to pray for a high school sweet heart. Every night I would pray the same pray faithful. “God please send me someone who I could spend my whole life with, a girl who knows me, a girl who I could love unconditionally. God send me my high school sweet heart.” I always know that she was there waiting on me and I was waiting on her. I just hand to wait for God to fulfill his promise.

I still had a tender heart for basketball. I still had dreams of being a basketball player. Before my sister graduated from SC. She would always take me to the varsity basketball games. It was cool seeing play after play; shoot after shoot, and on occasion you would see a dunk. At South Cobb when someone dunks all the fans would get up on their feet and go crazy even the parents. It was an unbelievable atmosphere to be a part of. Hearing the cheerleader chant, the ball dribbling on the court, the couch yelling, the crowd cheering and you could not forget the shoes squeaking on the hard wood floor. It was music to my ears and I wanted to be a part of it all. I would day dream of me being on the floor with the ball and all eyes on me. The fans would be watching every little thing I do ready to cheer on or boo.

My freshmen year I build enough confides to try out for the freshmen basketball team. I still couldn’t dribble well but one thing I did have then was a lightning quick first step. With it was my explosiveness leaping abilities. I would jump over people for rebounds. I was still in great condition. I love playing hard noise defense because it was all a mind game.

What give me the confidents to tryout was I would go in the new gym doing PE and plays pick up ball. I would be relentless taking it to the rim. No matter who was at the rim meeting me? I could finish most of my layups. I would play even harder when I felt comfortable and focus. Did I say I was quick? I would grab a rebound out the sky and go cost to cost beating everyone out. I thought that was pretty good for a person who was disabled. One day a girl (who played for the girls’ basketball team) came up to me and said you should play for the school. I was like “oh yeah right.” Then she said “I’m serious your good”. Her words give me a spark that I could believe in the impossible that a kid who could not make a left hand layup had a shot. Fall before break I went to tryout. When we had to do physical exercise I killed that. Couch K (God rest his soul and let his fire forever live in all who know his heart) came up to me and said keep up the good work. I said “thank you”. I was so happy because I had a chance, a real chance. The next morning it was time to do drills. They wanted us to do left hand layups. My spirit was immediately broken. I got the ball and probably walked because I was nervous. I had to do a two hand layup. I just put down my head after that because I know it was over for me. After that we had to do shooting drills. We all had to make various shoots from mid rang. I think I only made one. I know there was no change for me making the team not because I could shoot nor do left hand layup but because I quit on myself. I got cut the first round. That was a hard day for me because my disabilities won that day on my passion. One lesion I took from that is to believe in myself. No matter how big the obstacle is in front of me believe that God has given me more than enough to triumph over anything that stands in my way and never count God out.

I still wanted to get involved in school sports. I still want to feel the rush of the crowding roaring my name. My friend named Bryant (who I know from Boy Scotts) would always tell me how fun Lacrosse was and how completive it was. I just remember thinking the sport was like a fight. You had to fight for every point and every carry. I loved fighting because all my life I felt like I had to fight for everything attention, love and respect. I decide to join the team. The sport was so wired. It was a combination of basketball, football, soccer, tennis, and many more. I looked up the sport. It was a sport that was played by Native American’s ancestry. I notice that many people didn’t talk about the beginning of the sport maybe because they didn’t know. I respected it more because it was another nationality native sport. I give it my all, all I had in me. The predominate races that played the sport was whites. I didn’t understand that. I though more Indians would play but I understand the geographic area I lived in.

It was rough, hard and you walk away with cuts and bruise. People got stick check and got ran over with the stick. I wanted it all. I was looking to prove something to everyone that I was not a bitch. It was my type of sport. The team had heart but not the skill to win. I was playing defense on the team caption; He said “why are you playing defense on me so hard, chill!!” I looked at him like really. You are our caption, you lead this ship and you’re complaining. You’re not fit to be the leader. I should have said something to him but I didn’t have the confidents at the time to say what I wanted to say. It was a pecking order. The best player is first. In side I didn’t give a fuck about the pecking order I want to be the best and I wanted the team to be the best.

At the end of my freshman year my mother pushed me to get a job to pay for my own expenses. My sister boyfriend at the time was working at Food depot. He told me that I could get a job there. I went to the story on a Sunday afternoon. I was still dress in my church clothes. I went to the head manger named Wayne I said “Hello Wayne, (shake his hand) is there an open position here because I would love to work at your store.” He gives me an application and said be back Monday afternoon. Out of nowhere I had my first job. I worked this job through and a little before I went to Fort valley State University. Working at Food depot thought me a lot. It thought me that I could work hard, and I had what it took to be the best me I could be. I was not ashamed to be the best; I would think to myself “Come on little j keep pushing. Don’t you quit on me! Don’t you quit keep going! Keep going!!!”I found when I’m inspired my drive is impeccable. When I’m focused on the job at hand. My inner drive would push me to heights that normal I could not reach. I took working hard as my responsibility because there were a lot of older people who were in the ages of 65–75. I believe after a certain age you should not be working a physical job but you should be working to teach and glade the young. I put their work load on my shoulder. If they didn’t do the right thing or half ass on the job I would came behind them so they would not get in trouble. The reason why I worked so hard was because I had something to prove not only to my coworkers, myself but I had something to prove to God’s love. I wanted to prove that I deserved his love and that all steamed from not having my father’s love in my life. I always felt like that God’s love would leave me if I didn’t do the right things. I was always trying to chase down his love. I didn’t understand at the time that God love me no matter what I do and where I go. I was still feeling the ashamed of my father decision.

The most of all the job thought me that I had an infectious light that everyone could feel. It was a warm and friendly light that was not afraid to make people feel happy. It would tell jokes to people when their having a bad day, It would tell them about all the girls I have a crash on, or it would hold conversation about what their light shined for teaching, for God, for basketball, or for how they wanted to change their lives for a better quality of life. My light or you could call it my spirit was not loud but bold. It didn’t tell lies but the truth. It was transparent to all that felt it. My spirit genuinely cared for every last one of those people. I adopted them all as family and they adopted me as a friend, family member, son, or bother.

Even in the good times there were bad days I had day were I had to clean up poop, day I was mistreated by coworkers and customers, long night, hard mornings, and they worked me hard. After those hard days I would come home to tell my mom, “I’m exhausted, angry, and fed up with them all at that job. I’m done working there. I hate being there.” My mom would tell me “Don’t quit keep going. You only have a couple of years before you gradate. You are not like most kids. Most kid could not work a part time job and go to school at your age. God is doing something in your life” I would always say “your right.” I found great pride in being the best. I loved being the worker that people could count on. Going into the blazing sun or the cold rain getting carts from outside. I know other people didn’t want to do it so it made me feel like the man. I would always tell the front in manger Ms. Sharon if I don’t bulldoze this place down when get famous and rich. My Food Depot shirt will be in a glass case hanging in front of the story where the world could see my humble beginning. The customer and coworkers would laughed at it but I was dead serious. I want to show the people who look up to me and followed my feet steps that you can make it from anywhere no matter if you work at a warehouse, strip club, McDonalds, or a fortune 500 company you can and you will make it.

The end of my sophomore years I had the privilege to go to RYLA youth leadership camp as a camp leader. Before I go in to detail about RYLA. I want you to know that my students changed my life in a very special way. My campers showed me the talents and gifts I had to be a leader. There were 3 (including myself) leaders over the group and we had to look over 18 students. I was more of a student leader because I was only a grade ahead of them. They were all amazing people in their own way some were shy, confident, caring, responsible, charming, layback, smart, creative, and thoughtful. All together as a family we work together to win not only most of all the activity but we all strived to be better people. They gave me the confidents to lead them with love and courage. I didn’t treat them like I was better than them but I treaded them as my equals. If I had to be hard on them I would do it in a manner like how a big bother would talk to his little siblings. I would put myself in their shoes and try to sympathize with them. I would play sport, eat, and joke with them. I would motivate them when they need a pep talk. When they cried, I cried with them. If they needed someone to be in their corner. They looked at me with a smile and the intense eye of trust. They know I had their back no matter what happen and I would fight to the end for them. We were like a clock. There were many different parts in the clock but still we were one clock. We were one heartbeat, one soul, and one living organism. On the last day my students got up before hundreds of other students and staff. They said “Thank you for being the best leader here. You made our time here truly something to remember. You are an amazing person with a one of a kind heart. We love you. We will never forget you. We will always call you our leader and our friend.” All I could do is put my head down. Physically I was not cry but inside I was cry tears of joy. It meant so much to me to hear them say that. They said something that I always wanted to hear but never heard “We will never forget you.” It meant a lot to me because I felt wanted by them. The gaping hole in my heart stop bleeding and it became filled with their genuine love. All those students love lives inside of me and I have never forgotten them. Every time I stand and speak I fell them behind be pushing me on saying “We believe in you. Just speak from the heart like you did for us.” The love they showed me gave me the confidence to live my life with boldness and with transparency.