Balance

You have a power over me no other man ever could acquire

You are my lover

My protector

My warrior

My partner

My husband

You are the water to my raging fire

Without you I would destroy everything in my path

Including myself

You are the “Prince Charming” I’ve long dreamt about

You make all the past hurt seem worth the battle scars

I love you because you see past the curves, the smile, and the mysterious eyes

You see me for who I am

You see what no one else does

You gave me what no one else thought seemed possible

Balance

Bleeds Unrequited Love

Growing up we face a lot of things, and we can take most of them

One thing that hits you the hardest and your nowhere near prepared for is falling in love

Love hits you so hard you lose your breath and no matter how thick the walls around your heart are they will come crumbling down for love

When he walks by and smiles you melt and feel the butterflies in your stomach

 They feel like there are 300 pounds each

When he looks away and you stare at him and wonder why you love him so much

When he talks to you and inside your jumping up and down with excitement, but on the outside you try to act cool

At the end you tell him how you feel and he doesn’t feel the same

You feel your heart burst inside your chest

You hide your pain; you’re supposed to be tough, a stupid guy is not supposed to hurt you

You try to pretend like it doesn’t even affect you, and your mask is great, no one knows your dying inside

You bottle it all up until graduation night, it’s supposed to be the happiest day besides your wedding but all you can think about is he

You realize your never going to see him again; you isolate yourself to a space just for you

That’s when you feel it coming

You feel it all coming back, the scab on your broken heart ripping off

You feel the tears trying to rush out, but you fight it

Your supposed to be stronger than this, how can a stupid guy affect you like this?

Your emotions overtake you like you never thought they could

You can’t hide your pain anymore

Your alone and you cant fight it anymore, don’t want to fight it anymore

You heart breaks and it bleeds…

It bleeds unrequited love

Chemistry Or Lust

What do you call the force that dominates human interaction?  What do you call the thing in the pit of your stomach that makes you nervous around the person your interested in? Is it chemistry that fogs up your senses and makes you do things you would normally never do? When it comes to attraction there are so many rules and petty little games. There are rules on top of rules. It’s amazing that when considering getting into a relationship the first thing both people think about is how to be the one not to get played in the whole thing. “How do I protect myself above all else”?  People usually say chemistry between two people is the lighthearted laughter you share, the common interests and underlying attraction.  With chemistry you always want to be with the other person, know what they are thinking, maybe if they are thinking about you.  Fact: Great Chemistry leads to Great Flirting.  Accepting chemistry means giving up the “I’s” for “us”.  When the chemistry is there, there’s never an awkward moment, or boring one at that.  Everyone is looking for that perfect partner with whom they have that amazing chemistry. Ever heard the expression “You have to kiss a couple frogs before you get to your prince”? Well the “frogs” in question are going to be a little deceiving. With all the “frogs” your going to think you have chemistry when in reality all you have is lust for them. Lust in many scenarios masquerades itself as chemistry. Giving you the same little butterflies in your stomach and constant smiles when you’re around the person. The way you tell the difference is that with great chemistry comes great patience.  The chemistry is there so just the simple act of being with each other should always suffice. You know its lust when you cant explain why things between you and a love interest move so quickly. Better yet, when examining your relationship and seeing quirks that don’t quite add up. It’s a problem when you realize the only way you really connect with your partner is behind closed doors.  Even though they both might feel the same at times chemistry and lust are two completely different things.  One of which can lead you into a loving relationship while the other leads you to dangerous territory for the time.  When getting involved with your next love interest think about how you two fit together. Are you made for each other or an odd couple?

Most importantly think about if its chemistry make sure it doesn’t blow up in your face the way lust can. Lust can become way too complicated when you try and leave your feelings out of the equation.  Lust may seem perfect just for the moment but some how you always end up back at the crossroads choosing between Chemistry and Lust.

Mr.Ken, Mr. Perfect, and Mr. Perfect For You

What exactly is a happily ever after? More importantly does it truly exist? Many women, or should I say women of New York, believes that there is love out there. The only thing that they don’t believe is that it is easily found. Every women in New York is looking for what I call a Mr. Ken, a Mr. Ken is a perfect Barbie doll of a man. A Mr. Ken is the kind of man you can take all around the city standing proudly hanging on your arm. A New York Diva of course is looking for that Mr. Ken, that way they are able to strut down 5th avenue with their three hundred dollar “Supercuts” haircut, their brand new Gucci, and Prada. Now that’s just a New York Diva’s fantasy. Their dream is to find that Mr. Perfect, the kind of guy that gives you Goosebumps just being close to him. The kind of guy that when he smiles at you, just make your heart start racing. The guy you could stay up all night with just talking on the phone with. Everyone wants that perfect Romeo. Now the thing is when you think you find that Romeo, what’s the next thing you do? How do you keep that little happily ever after? The thing with most women is that they are so worried about finding him, that when they have him they don’t make the relationship at all. So what am I supposed to say about that? I know not all men come with a sign saying “Hey doofus! I’m right here!” all I can say is we have to stop looking for Mr. Ken, and start looking for a soul mate. Now I’m not saying to lower your standards to dirt, I’m just saying don’t make them so impossible to meet. Love doesn’t come in your perfect form you want to know why? Because nothing on this Earth is perfect. No matter if one of you divas out there reading this think you’re the best thing out there, you’re not perfect. So all you have to do to find love is to stop looking for Mr. Ken or a Mr. Perfect look for a Mr. Perfect for you.

Life Is A Game

Is life just tough? I don’t think so, I think of life more as a book. Life as we know it has so many chapters to it. Like when we read a good book and we can’t put it down and we are in the middle of an unbelievable chapter where we can’t believe what’s going on, well I believe life is exactly like that. Sometimes life takes a turn whether for good or bad that we just stand there most of the times with a stupid look on our faces, just trying comprehend what just happened before our very eyes. Life is always compared to a book don’t ya think? Like that famous expression we all love to hate whether it’s with people we just met or a new boyfriend, it still annoyingly applies “Don’t judge a book by its cover”. Well I hate to admit it because I hate this expression more than anyone but in a weird out of date way it’s true. When we look at person we don’t know what their chapters have, we don’t know how interesting their book can be, or how much drama their book contains. A lot of people say life is unbearable, I don’t really agree with that, I don’t think life is unbearable I think the obstacles that come in our way or unbearable. Sometimes things pop up in life when we don’t want them to. But it doesn’t matter if we want them to or not; they are going to pop up. For example if your life is going so well there is bound to be a speed bump. Or if your life is not going according to plan and you think you can’t handle another unfortunate event or occurrence, something either really annoying or terrible pops up. Now it doesn’t matter how old you are there are always going to be those problems. The only thing age affects about life is when you get older you learn how to “roll with the punches” better than before, like right now for example I’m only a teenager, adults think “oh they are only teenagers what real problems do they have, try paying a bill once in a while, or going to work every day, then talk to me about problems.” You want to know what my response toward comments like that are, if you think like that they you forgot what being a teenager is like, and the time that we are growing up is way different from another time. There are more temptations to do wrong than ever before. And you know what sheltering us is not helping us. You have to let go of us, we are not your cute little five year olds anymore, we are young adults, and these times are for us to experience and begin to rely on ourselves, so why are you holding us back? Because you want to protect us? Well newsflash we are not five anymore you can’t protect us from the boogieman anymore; we all have different versions of our monsters now it’s our time to fight them. You gave us the tools to fight; now all that’s left is to let us go, and fight our own battles. Because in the game of life there are no second chances and redoes. We learn to do everything ourselves. We write the chapters in our books. There is nothing anyone else can write for us. Like I said life is like a game and it is up to us to come out victorious by the end.

               

What I Learned From A Hospital Bed

It may sound cliché but in my instance the saying is very true. “Tomorrow is not always a guarantee.” Last year I lived my life only worried about school. Missing doctors appointments and never rescheduling them. I hadn’t been feeling right for months, constantly shaking, sweating, and rapid heartbeats that felt like you were having a heart attack. One day in the middle of class I just fainted, blacked out. Can you believe when I woke up I still didn’t go to the doctor because I had a test? Amazing isn’t it? Well I did end up going two days later because I needed a note for my absences of the last two days. I went for a routine visit to the emergency and didn’t come out for two weeks. They did every test I have ever heard of and it turned out I have autoimmune hepatitis. Which basically meant if my body was attacking my liver as though it were foreign.  It wasn’t until those weeks in the hospital that I saw how I really looked black bags under my eyes, lost 30 pounds without changing my lifestyle or diet, my hair falling out, and worst of all my completion was yellow. As I laid in bed emotionless and with no energy those first couple days my doctors all told me if I would have waited just a little while longer I would have went in to complete liver failure. From this I learned life is so precious and can’t be wasted over fears and work. You only get to live once so why waste it doing only things you hate? You have to appreciate the little things like family, a sunrise, a large soda at the movies; hoping no one asks you for a sip.  You just have to live.

The Bedroom Walls

I can feel the vibrations as I slowly caress the wall

I can hear the argument as if I’m standing in the middle of the battlefield

These walls isolate me from my harsh reality

Take me away while they fight

Let me not hear the sounds of the broken promises and unforgiving pasts

Let these four walls stop me from being part of it

Keep me from feeling like a stranger in what should be my sanctuary

These walls may keep out the visual

But the emotional shoots through these paper thin walls

I can hear the echo of glasses breaking

Their voices screeching

Doors slamming

Curses flying

These walls have seen all the bad times

If only these walls could talk, I wouldn’t be the only one to know what goes on

I stay at my open window, holding back the tears, praying “ Lord Jesus take me away, give me the strength to keep myself together, don’t let them drag me in, God above all else don’t let them drag me in”

Her yelling is filled with despair when she says, “Get out no or I’ll call the cops”

I feel myself shut down, like my body systems shutting down one switch at a time

His footsteps are the only thing to be heard, right out that front door

Who knows when he’ll be back, maybe another 10 months?

It’s her sobbing piercing through these walls, my heart races faster and faster as I pray she doesn’t come in here

“Please don’t let her walk in” I pray as I wipe off any tear that made its way through

I’m left here with her; I’m now the adult, the one to worry about how I’ll get us through this, how I’m going to pay for dinner, and things we need

As she cries I turn to stone, giving no clue as to how much I’m hurting

My brave exterior is what will get us through

These walls haunt me with the painful memories, of depression, a long lost childhood

It’s when I’m alone that I can no longer be strong

I let the shower run as steam fills the bathroom

I stare at the reflection of the cold stranger staring back at me

She looks back at me, gently caressing her black hair

I stare deep into her unfamiliar brown eyes

They are dark and full of anguish

I can see her pain but I cant feel it

I touch the mirror trying to lightly wipe away her tears

It that moment when I realize that girl in the mirror is I

I cry silently to myself, asking God why they continue this

After my shower I go back to those same bedroom walls that held it all

Supposed to be my protector

How do I let anyone besides these walls know I need someone to hug me while I cry

Let me out from behind these walls so I don’t have to bear it

I will bear it no more

I will feel no more

I will cry no more

Behind these bedroom walls 

My Back Feels Funny

Hey bestie?

My back feels a little funny

What do you think it can be?

It started a little while ago

But now it’s a blistering pain that passes through my whole body.

Hey bestie?

Where are you?

Why aren’t you answering my texts or phone calls and then telling me months later you miss me and we don’t spend enough time together?

Hey bestie?

Why is your boyfriend so much more important to you than I am?

Was he there through all the mini meltdowns?

Was he the one right there beside you in those stores acting like an idiot with you?

Was he there holding your hand telling you “besties for life”?

Hey bestie?

When did you cut me out the loop?

When did the space between us grow so big, Niagara Falls keeps us apart?

Hey bestie?

Did you ever think that in 6 years I never judged you?

Did you think about all the things I’ve done for you?

Hey bestie?

Why did you hurt the one person who would always be there for you?

Why did you think you could be so cruel, hurtful and judgmental and I was just supposed to have a smile on my face?

What made you look at me so differently in such a short time?

Why can’t you just accept my mistakes and the fact that I’ve changed?

You don’t need to like the guys I want to date but at least respect my decisions, if I get hurt in the process then I have to pick myself up.

You could at least do the whole bestie thing, a carton of Hagan daaz and a bunch of chick flicks and let me cry it out.

I would always do it for you, why wouldn’t you be there for me?

Hey bestie?

Why did I trust you with my life for so long?

Hey Bestie?

My back feels a little funny

I think I know what it can be.

It must be from that knife you drove into it.

International Criminal Courts

“It has been 50 years since the United Nations first recognized the need to establish an international criminal court, to prosecute crimes such as genocide. In resolution 260 of 9 December 1948, the General Assembly, "Recognizing that at all periods of history genocide has inflicted great losses on humanity; and being convinced that, in order to liberate mankind from such an odious scourge, international co-operation is required", adopted the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide. Article I of that convention characterizes genocide as "a crime under international law", and article VI provides that persons charged with genocide "shall be tried by a competent tribunal of the State in the territory of which the act was committed or by such international penal tribunal as may have jurisdiction . . ." In the same resolution, the General Assembly also invited the International Law Commission "to study the desirability and possibility of establishing an international judicial organ for the trial of persons charged with genocide . . ."On July 1^st 2002 the International Courts were created. The International Criminal courts should not get involved in conflicts concerning other governments unless the government in question does not have the resources to enforce peace, security, and human rights for the people of the battling country. The International Criminal Court is supposed to stop officials from senselessly murdering people in their own countries. As shown they accomplished this in Libya when dictator Col. Muammar el-Qaddafi senselessly murdered thousands of civilians as part of the revolution. The courts got involved with this case setting out warrants for the arrest of Qaddafi and two others right until the death of Quaddafi, yet Rwanda went through similar injustices and were overlooked. Like Libya innocent civilians were getting killed but instead of stepping in the international courts hesitated and over all decided not to intervene claiming time frame issues. If both cases have similar circumstances, if both cases involve some sort of genocide why should one case be favored against the other. Why should the people of Libya be helped but the people of Rwanda be made to suffer. If the courts claim they are there to stop genocide that means they should take either all cases or none at all.  The international criminal courts should honor and enforce rights listed in the U.N’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The United Nations was the first ones to say something had to be done to protect human rights. Human rights no matter what organization or countries are enforcing it are still human rights. They are universal. Every human being on this planet has the same rights as any other person. As stated in the preamble of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, “Whereas recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.”  When talking about rights organizations and different countries do not matter. We are all human therefore this document applies to us all. “Now, Therefore THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY proclaims THIS UNIVERSAL DECLARATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS as a common standard of achievement for all peoples and all nations, to the end that every individual and every organ of society, keeping this Declaration constantly in mind, shall strive by teaching and education to promote respect for these rights and freedoms and by progressive measures, national and international, to secure their universal and effective recognition and observance, both among the peoples of Member States themselves and among the peoples of territories under their jurisdiction.”  In an effort to establish peace, the International Criminal Courts might ignore the rights of the specific country it is trying to help. When a country seeks out the help of the International Criminal Courts they must agree to the terms and jurisdiction of the courts. Therefore the courts can completely overlook the country’s own laws and rights. With that kind of power the International Criminal Courts might not come to a decision that is best for the country in question. Therefore it is better for the country in question to settle disputes on their own then to give up their own rights. Governments should solve conflicts within their own country without any international involvement to protect the rights of their own citizens. By solving their own problems they do not give power to anyone else. Their own laws and rights are enforced, along with the rights described in the Universal Declaration of Human rights. No outside force can handle a dispute better than the countries own government because they know all the circumstances and are not biased toward any one side.

I Think I Miss You

Many nights I lay in bed thinking I miss you

I miss your touch

The way you make my heart race

The look you used to give me that made my whole body shiver

I miss the “I miss you’s”

As I lay there thinking I miss you I wonder do I miss the arguments?

The yelling at each other

Walking away feeling bad about myself

The feeling that I was never good enough for you?

Do I miss the lonely moments

The unclear fog that was “us”

Do I miss your lack of commitment

Your stupid reverse psychology?

Why is it through all the hell you put me through I still miss  having you around?

The really stupid jokes I couldn’t help but laugh at

The huge confidence booster you always were to me

The deep late night conversations

The visits

But do I miss the emotional abuse

Do I miss the constant flow of hurtful words

Do I miss going days and weeks without talking to you just because you were mad at me

Do I miss racking my brain after an argument trying to figure out what  I did wrong

Do I miss wondering what I meant to you

Wondering if you would ever be what I needed

Spending all that time regretting

It all makes me wonder if I miss you

But every time I think about that kiss, or those strong arms around me I think I miss you

Everytime I Close My Eyes

Every time I close my eyes I can still see it all replaying in my head,

I can still see it all playing out like a movie,

Burned into my memory

Night after night I toss and turn trying to block it all out of my head

But it doesn’t work, the minute I close my eyes I can still hear the empty promises

It all still haunts me wherever I go

People say leave the past in the past

But what do you do when your past haunts you every time you have a moment’s peace?

How do you get over something that you thought was the source of your effortless smile?

How do you forget the little moments

Most importantly the worst fights and heartbreaks?

The minute my eyes close I see it all like a movie that wont go away

Do you know what it feels like to close your eyes and watch yourself making the same mistakes over and over but never being able to stop yourself?

I’m afraid to close my eyes

To be haunted by the memories of what I can’t have

Why do you have to be there?

Why do I have to feel it all over again

Wasn’t the first time more than enough?

The worst part is this torture only exists when I close my eyes

So no one can feel what I carry around

Its what I fight every time I close my eyes

The East Pediment of the Parthenon V.S. The Palette of Narmer

Every culture, every time period has their differences, which make them unique. Throughout history there is one thing all-human beings share in common when it comes to art, important people are given the most profound and detailed pieces. As the longest running civilization on Earth, the Egyptians have molded amazing examples of art for later cultures such as the Greeks. Although both cultures are very different in many aspects, some of the greatest pieces from both have been those centered on important people in their cultures. Two examples of these kinds of pieces are The Palette of Narmer (c.2950 BCE) and the East Pediment of the Parthenon (c. 447-432 BCE).  The Palette of Narmer is from the Early Dynastic Period. It is made of green schist and is about twenty-five inches tall. The palette is meant to honor the legendary king of Egypt Narmer. Narmer is accredited with the unification of upper and Lower Egypt, which is illustrated in this work of art. Unlike most pieces of art from Ancient Egypt this piece was not funerary but rather celebratory. On one side of the Palette Narmer is depicted attacking another person. In Ancient Egyptian art the way the importance of a person is depicted is by the size of the person in the artwork compared to the other people. In this case, Narmer is considerably larger than his army, signifying he is who is important in this piece. The palette portrays, Narmer’s enemy as being the same size as Narmer, showing he is also important. In this piece, Narmer is attacking a person who by a hieroglyphic label is identified to most likely be the ruler of Lower Egypt. Behind Narmer is another person, who by the hieroglyphic inscription is thought to be the sandal-bearer. Narmer is barefoot because he is believed to be preforming sacred acts on sacred grounds. At the top of this side of the palette there are hieroglyphics that name the king, a fish, and a chisel. The artist depicts the palace of Narmer with a façade around it to emphasize the fact that he is king.  On the reverse side of the palette, Narmer is shown wearing the red crown on Lower Egypt. On the side there are two rows of decapitated soldiers, who are identified as the defeated enemy. Their decapitated heads are tucked between the legs of their dead bodies. In the middle of the palette there is a circular indentation, this was usually used for makeup palettes. The circular indentation in this case is not meant for make up but rather another unique feature of this celebratory piece of art. Two lions necks complete the circle. It is predicted that the two lions neck adjoining to make one circle can signify the theme of the piece, which is the unification of Upper and Lower Egypt. Bodies in this piece are all in profile to stress the most recognizable features such as the eyes, shoulders, torso, butt, hips, and legs. The East Pediment of the Parthenon (c.447-432 BCE) is one of the surviving pieces from the explosion. The statues used to be about ninety feet long, but without its central piece, which was lost in the fifth century, today it is about forty feet long. This piece illustrates the birth of the virgin warrior goddess Athena. Zeus is seated on a throne in the center. Athena is standing next to him because according to Greek mythology, Athena is the daughter of Zeus; he thought he wanted a daughter, and Athena shortly after popped out of his head. On the left of Zeus is a nude Herakles; he has lion skin and the goddess Dionysos is next to him laying on panther skin. Beside Herakles are the Earth and grain goddesses Demeter and Persephone. On the left is also the messenger of the gods, Iris, who seems to be spreading the news of Athena’s amazing birth. On the right are three women: Hestia (goddess of hearth), Dione (a consort of Zeus), and Aphrodite (goddess of love). At the far left is a horse’s head, which represents the chariot of Helios (the sun god also known as Apollo).  Both pieces are meant to tell great stories of the time. Narmer was a great Pharaoh of Egypt. Pharaohs were looked at as divine and sent from god. The palette tells the story of how great of a pharaoh he was. Since Narmer is the most important person depicted in the palette, most of the detail is placed on him. The carving in the stone was much more intricate when it came to carving his figure. Details such as his different caps to signify lower and Upper Egypt are examples of that. The East Pediment of the Parthenon is also a carving with very intricate handiwork. This piece is to tell the story of the birth of one of the gods of the Greek culture. Like the palette, the details in this piece signify the importance. This piece shows many of the gods of the time, all the gods are important. Therefore each god has details of their own, such as the folds in Aphrodite’s drapery. It is so detailed it shows it slipping off her shoulder, and it shows how sheer it is.  One of the most important things both pieces do is they both stress what was most important. For the Greeks, mythology was an answer to life’s mysteries. The gods were involved in every aspect of life. The Palette of Narmer was one of the first written documents. Since Pharaohs were looked at as divine and sent from the gods they were gods in their own right. Like the Greeks the Egyptians depicted the great battles of the gods.  Today both pieces are a first hand source of information on everyday life of the ancient cultures. They serve as a history book, but they also show how particularized the artists of the day were.                                                                   

A Photograph of Me

This is a Photograph of me

It wasn’t taken too long ago

It it felt like a terrible nightmare I could not wake up from

The light blue room walls that he painted are right behind me

The pictures he drew for me right in front of me

The fear spread across the room.

The photograph shows me smiling with him,

But pictures can be deceiving

Deep down in the soul of this woman is a little girl crying

He has his arm around me, but no one knows how far the “love” and “protection” has gone.

In the closet there is a little girl crying

Saying this same bad man is her boogey man.

What I don’t tell her is he is my boogey man too.

I am smiling but if you look close enough you can see me in the dark closet

Wondering if I should come out

What will happen if I do?

Will it all end?

This is a photograph of me

A broken photograph of me.

East Harlem Tutorial Program's 2013 Annual Spring Benefit

I still remember walking into the after-school program EHTP and looking up at the blue steps for the first time. The pathway to a better tomorrow, as I saw it. Inside, there were kids everywhere and I felt the butterflies going crazy in my stomach. I reminded myself to stay calm. I needed somewhere to go in the afternoons, something to keep me occupied and out of trouble. This was one of my only options remaining. The smiles on the kids’ faces struck me the most. How could people be this happy after school?

            Until I found EHTP, I was always girl hanging out somewhere I should not have been, with people I should not have been with, avoiding being home. The people I was with would constantly ask me why would I want to go somewhere and do more work after school. I couldn’t explain that I needed a sanctuary. EHTP became that for me. It became the only place in the whole world where I felt safe. Where I felt like I didn’t have to fight alone, I didn’t have to be tough all the time, and I didn’t have to wonder what stupid mistakes I was going to make. The people I used to hang out with couldn’t and would never understand that this place was what I was looking for… a home.

            If EHTP has been the home I needed, the people who worked there have been parents I needed to keep me on track. It wasn’t always easy. I was taught to approach life like going to war, always arm yourself. Having people like Peter and Jenny actually trying to help me caught me off guard. They demanded my report cards, paid close attention to my grades, got me tutoring where I needed it. For a girl who always had to fight her own battles, it was foreign to me to have people stand behind me and actually show me they care. They constantly reminded me that I can accomplish far greater things than I give myself credit for. They constantly reminded me that unlike most people in my life, they are not leaving. They have been the support system I desperately needed. They have rekindled my passion for writing and most dear to my heart, they have put their faith in me, telling me not to give up. They also kept me focused on the big picture, which was going to college.

Writing is my dream—it always has been—and EHTP has been the only place in my life where I have been encouraged to follow that dream. EHTP has given me countless opportunities to put my gift to work. This year, I wrote an 84-page screenplay for their film and writing department, along with writing segments for their TV show, “EHT-TV”.  Nothing gives me the same amazing accomplished feeling than when I type those last few letters to my most recent piece. And that’s why I’ve never felt more excited to officially say that I will be pursuing Creative Writing at Brooklyn College next fall, with a focus in screenwriting.

There are two people at EHTP who have made all that I have accomplished possible; those people are Frank Perez, who runs the writing program and Peter Barros, the Deputy Director of School Choice and College Success. Frank was the first person to ever encourage my writing and to give me free range with it. He also saw my stage freight and responded by saying “suck it up,  you’re on,” and throwing me in front of a camera. By doing that, he showed me what it was like to think on my feet and still stay cool in front of a room full of people and a camera. Although I turned red from embarrassment, I couldn’t get off camera until my assignment was done. Frank has taught me that I may someday be the creator of something amazing that may forever impact a person’s life. And who knows? Maybe one day I may have the next Titanic or Goodfellas on my hands.

Peter has inspired me in a whole other way I never thought possible. When I first met him, I could tell he was a “no excuses” kind of man. And I have to be honest, at first I thought “Oh, I’m going to have a problem with him.” But Peter demanded nothing but the best from me. He pushed me harder than anyone in my life ever has and most importantly, he didn’t give up on me when many times I felt like giving up on myself. He would always find me whatever help I needed or just be there for me so I could vent and keep going with my day. He has shown me my passion for writing is not my downfall but in fact the motivation I need to make writing my life.

All my life I thought college was something that just had to be done, something that was mandatory, but Peter showed me that college is where life begins. College is where I make my own decisions about my education, where I don’t get discriminated against because of my health problems. Peter made me actually want to go to college. He instilled the need for education and independence in me.  

At EHTP I learned how to stand on my own two feet and take control of my life, my dreams, my aspirations, most importantly my future.  I am proud of the fact that although it has been so tough and so stressful at times I did not give up. I am glad that I have worked my butt off to get to where I am today.   As I look back, it was all worth it. I walked up those blue steps looking for a distraction and I walked back down a stronger person, a better person, a smarter person, most importantly I walked down those stairs with a new family and a new outlook on life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQfsawhd9yg

A Few Words About The East Harlem Tutorial Program

Have you ever tried to explain to someone how something tastes? Struggle to find the perfect adjectives to give whatever the thing was complete and utter justice? That’s exactly how it is for me when someone wants me to explain EHTP to him or her.  For the food lovers in the room I think you would completely agree with me when I say think about the best piece of cake you ever had. Imagine every texture, every last blast of taste. Okay now try and FULLY explain what it was like to me? Exactly nothing comes to mind that can express how amazing that was. I’ve never stayed committed to any program or anything required in my life. I always thought my precious hanging out time was so much more important than thinking about school or even going.  I really do wish I had gone to school instead of wasting my time.  Instead of lying in bed watching old reruns of “The Fresh Prince of Bel Air” and “The Nanny.” Better yet I wish I would have known about EHTP. They would have kicked my butt into shape from the get go. I came into EHTP a junior who didn’t realize or really care how important junior year was. It was make it or break it. I let personal setbacks keep me down rather than pushing through.  I’ve been at EHTP for only a year now. But it’s felt like a blessing of a lifetime. From the second I walked in I can’t even lie I was so shocked at how much these people cared.  It’s like failure isn’t an option here.  It felt like the second you signed that paper and agreed to commit here, it was like gaining new parents. Although I love my parents with all my heart, and I appreciate the fact that they struggle so much just to pay my tuition, so I could get a quality education. But they aren’t the type to talk about school with or help me with schoolwork, academic dilemmas, or even the college search. So most of the time when it comes to school I’m on my own.  But this is where I thank God EHTP came in. In my most important year of high school I found this little Utopia just a couple blocks from my house. A place I’ve always passed by but never looked into. With EHTP I love that there’s someone like Peter to be on top of our grades, to help us if we have problems in school, to sit down and check in with us about how things are going, even going above and beyond to break down every confusing part of the college search.  With out EHTP I would have never had the confidence I have now in my writing. I came in to this place shy beyond belief. With Frank he doesn’t care if I turn red from embarrassment he throws you In front of the camera and says “Your on!” Film and writing turned out to be something I’m so passionate about. The discussions you have behind the camera makes you think and realize as teenagers we are so worried about ourselves that we don’t even know what’s going on in the world. So with Frank we always had to be on top of current events. Most importantly for me, it was Frank’s confidence in me and my writing that made me actually realize I have a gift, a gift I should be utilizing. From all the practice I’ve gotten in Film and Writing, not to mention the confidence the college search was deciding easier for me because I knew nothing made me happier than to have my voice heard. To share with the world my story, my point of view.  From film and Writing I knew writing is what I wanted to do with my life. When my family told me I can’t get anywhere with writing Frank was always right there as an example of how far you can go. In this one short year, EHTP made me grow up.  They’ve showed they are always there and I could never express how thankful I am to have taken me into this amazing family. We may all argue and get on each other’s nerves, but at the end of the day the family stays strong. I’ve always felt I didn’t belong everywhere I’ve gone, even with my own family. I think it’s the sense of family that reaches our hearts more than anything academic here. The goofy times, the funny moments and people, the love.  EHTP has been one of the best experiences in my life, and it’s something I could never forget, by being part of EHTP its forever in my mind and heart.

Pedro Pietri

Pedro Pietri was born on March 21,1944 in Ponce, Puerto Rico. He is best known as a “Nuyorican” poet and playwright.  In 1947 he and his family moved to New York City, where they settled in Spanish Harlem.  At age five, Pedro’s father contracted pneumonia and died, leaving his mother with him and four other siblings. As a teenager the one person who inspired him the most was his aunt, His aunt was a poet and soon Pedro began to write his own original pieces.  His poetry was mainly inspired by the life experiences he had passed through. After high school Pedro was drafted into the Vietnam War, where he dealt with discrimination for other soldiers. These experiences greatly impacted him, and after he returned from war he became very active in Puerto Rican Civil Rights with the group The Young Lords.  Along with writing memorable poems the The Puerto Rican Obituary and The Spanglish National Anthem, he opened the Nuyorican café, a place where many Puerto Rican intellectuals preform their original pieces. In 2003, Pietri was diagnosed with stomach cancer as a result of exposure during the Vietnam War to a chemical known as Agent Orange. He chose to undergo alternate treatments in Mexico and unfortunately died on the flight back from Mexico at age 59.

The Price of History in the Making

 Derek Jeter’s 3000th career hit and tough economic times are  hiking the prices of Yankee tickets. For many the opportunity to attend a game is dwindling and America’s favorite pass-time is becoming harder and harder to enjoy.  As of June 29, the average bleacher seat was $103.00.

“It all depends on how much money is in my pocket,” said Jefry Taveras, 16, one of many die-hard Yankee fans, and member of Fiorello LaGuardia High School’s baseball team. “I would most likely be sitting either high up or deep into the outfield bleachers.”

Three years ago the average price for a bleacher seat to a Yankee game was twelve bucks. When shortstop Derek Jeter was on the path to his 3000 career hit, every Yankee fan wanted a chance to be there. So, prices skyrocketed.

“And is it worth spending that much money? I say to a certain extent, if it’s a good match up then yes,” continued Taveras.

Three years ago the most expensive ticket was $2500 for a box seat. Even the most expensive ticket back then is cheap compared to today.  The most expensive ticket as of June 28, when Jeter was four hits away from the 3000, was $5000. Every night, as Derek got closer and closer to 3000, the tickets became more expensive and sold out the stadium.

Tickets may be expensive but the Yankees always deliver, always selling out the stadium. Many people do not have the resources to attend the games, but there is always hope and determination among the Bomber’s fans.

Are the Yanks Worth the Big Bucks?

  The Yankees are the highest paid team in baseball, racking up $196,854,630. Many people are now asking are these players focusing enough on the game and giving up all or  are they just collecting an undeserved check?

         The Yankees have always been the highest team in baseball, but now in tough economic times and two straight years of losing, people are asking “Are they worth what we are paying?”

“Yeah, you know what your getting when you pay to see the Yankees. You get what you pay for, you get what you came to see.” said Adrian Alverio, one of the many lifelong fans.

      Not all people agree with this, now that times are hard they are especially not staying quiet about it. “No player is worth the salaries they get, except for those making less than a million dollars a year.” said religion teacher Joseph Mckenna.

   As the economy gets worse more and more people lose their jobs . The unemployment rate is skyrocketing. The Yankees on the other hand don't have to worry about unemployment with their guaranteed multi-million dollar contracts. “Tough times? who cares, their salaries are outrageous in general even if unemployment is at two percent or ten percent , its just insane.” says Algebra teacher Ronald Laskorski.

     Players like Alex Rodriguez,Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera have at the very least three year contracts. “ I think every player should have no more than a one year contract and if they don't produce they should either get a pay cut or be released,” continued Mckenna.

 

Celebrity

Each of the ten teenage girls polled  in a recent STEPNOWNews survey could share details of the Whitney Houston death, but when asked about local murder cases like that of Marchella Pierce not one person knew who the child was even though she was murdered in their backyard.

“I think we are so desensitized by the media and celebrities that we lost our ability to truly care for everyday people. Most people think ‘well thank God it wasnt my family member’,” says film and writing instructor Frank Perez.

Pierce, a four year old Brooklyn girl, was found beaten, starved, and drugged in her Brooklyn home in 2011.  Now, both her grandmother and mother are on trial for her murder. Marchella Pierce was at the center of one of the many childhood abuse cases that fails to attract young people’s attention.

However, the girls who participated in the STEP survey were able to go into great detail about all the drugs that eventually caused Houston’s death. They were able to repeat where she was, the hotel room, straight  down to all the drugs found in her room.

“Maybe it’s the fascination of seeing a celebrity, we figure they must have the perfect life. So when they are kicked off their high horse it makes them seem more relatable,” said Catholic school teacher Catherine Contois.

Celebrities receive weeks of spot light if they get a divorce, cheat on a spouse, or pass away. While cases like Trayvon Martin receive media attention, it is up to everyday people to make it a hot topic.

“I first heard of Trayvon Martin from Facebook and Tumbler. My friends kept talking about it. [At first] I never picked up The Daily News and saw it blown up as much as Michael Jackson’s death,” said Cathedral High School student Tatiana Sanders.

Will We Ever Know?

People say everything happens for a reason. If that is true, what is the reason for going through an abusive relationship? All in the name of love? I sit in this bed with my teddy bear, Mr. Brody Esquire Teddyskins. This bed used to be my comfort, my solace, along with writing. But now it’s my prison confining me and reminding me of the horrid events that took place on these Betty Boop sheets. Brody never leaves this bed; he is the protector of this fortress. He has kept the monsters away from this bed ever since I was eight. Well, all monsters except one- my ex fiancé Eduardo. In his defense Eduardo fooled all of us; he was a monster sent from the pits of hell disguised as one of the most beautiful guardian angels from the highest corners of heaven. Brody and I never saw the danger coming. Eduardo was my first love. Never had I had someone hold me the way he did, kiss me the way he did, make me feel loved and wanted. I spent my dating years trying to find someone who would “claim” me. Someone who would want to yell from the top of their lungs that Adrienne Marie Alverio was their girlfriend. I had finally found it in him. I spent my dating years alone, in relationships where I was always abused verbally, emotionally, and mentally. He seemed to be the end of all the pain and suffering. He did turn out to be the end of the abuse but just the beginning of the suffering.The honeymoon stage did not last long. Most of our relationship was amazing. Brody can vouch for that. I would come home every night to that bed and hug him and tell him all about what Eduardo said and did that specific day. Not to mention the night Eduardo and I got engaged; that night I didn’t let Brody sleep a wink. I kept him up talking about wedding dresses and our future together. He didn’t seem as excited about the engagement as me and my new fiancé were. The engagement seemed to open the door for Eduardo to show his true colors. I would lay Brody on the corner of the bed next to my pillow. During those last two weeks of the engagement, I laid Brody against the wall because I did not want him to see the tears strolling down my face as I endured the sexual abuse from my so called “love of my life.” Brody could still hear my silent whimpers of pain at night when I hugged him tight to go to sleep. He was all I had to feel somewhat safe anymore. I would cry to Brody ask him, “Why does he hurt me if he loves me so much? What do I do to make him so angry?” Sometimes I would feel so alone I could feel Brody hug me back as if to say, “You have me.” In the course of two weeks of our engagement my fiancé raped me three times, all three times on those Betty Boop sheets in front of Brody. All I had to take my mind away from what was happening to my body were those posters on my walls. I would stare at those posters of The Breakfast Club, Dirty Dancing, and Titanic. I would sit there and remember scenes from the movies, pretending I was watching them all over again. It all finally ended with me in a hospital room with countless cops questioning me. I spent two weeks confined to that hospital bed, I never felt so alone. I had my older sister by my side all that time, letting me cry in her arms. But those nights all alone in that bed, staring at the uneven skin tones of my ring finger, listening to our song, was more than I could bear alone. Without Brody I did nothing but question why did Eduardo do what he did to me, why did I feel like it was all my fault, and most importantly why was I still so scared of him? These questions still cross my mind; that same fear is still there. I guess I will never really have the answers I search for. I have accomplished great things since them: won a writing scholarship, graduated from high school, even learned how to walk again. Maybe in time I will understand what I was meant to learn from all this? I’ve been Adrienne’s best friend since she was eight years old. Since the first time she hugged me and told me, “I’m going to call you Brody Teddyskins (the Esquire came later). I’ve been on these Betty Boop sheets protecting her from any monster that came our way. Any monster she invented in her mind and was convinced was going to take her way, I was right there to scare them away. I’ve seen this little girl grow up and go through more pain than any little girl should. I could see in her eyes the only thing she ever wanted from this big world was unconditional love. From the way she would hug me at night I knew all she would ever want was someone to hug her back the way she needed.When Eduardo came into the picture, I prayed he was different from the other guys that broke her heart. I sat through enough crying with her; she didn’t need that anymore. He was amazing to her – in the beginning. They sat on this bedroom floor for hours, laughing and playing video games. He helped her with her homework and calmed her down when she had her panic attacks. In retrospect, he was doing everything right, but there was still something I did not trust about him. I couldn’t tell Adrienne that because she was so head-over-heels she wasn’t going to listen to me anymore. She wasn’t eight anymore; she was seventeen and did not need a Teddy anymore. At first, Eduardo did small things I didn’t like, such as wanting her to focus on him rather than her schoolwork, or the awful things he would say about her parents when she would argue with them. He would point out flaws in her rather than remind her that she is one of the most beautiful people in this world. When she would be in the shower, I would see him looking in her drawers, her closet, even her phone. Where was the trust? If only I was big enough to kick him out, I would have. He even once picked me up, looked me in the eyes, and said, “You are the first thing I’ll get rid of when we move in together.” She never knew because I never told her. That night they got engaged she came home, hugged me tight, and was so happy. I tried to be happy for her, but knew from what he had told me that the beginning of them meant the end of us. I had to cherish what little time I had left with my best friend.Those last two weeks of their relationship was more than I could bear to watch. The stress of always being sick and weak had gotten to her. Her liver was acting up again, but this time it claimed her ability to walk. Or so she thought. To this day she never noticed that she stopped walking after the first time he abused her. She laid in this bed with me every day and night, crying, asking me if she would ever walk again. He would come every day at around noon to take care of her, feed her, help her to the bathroom, even watch her sleep (which I personally thought was a little creepy). She would be in and out of consciousness from how weak she was. At night I would be by her side hugging her, but crying myself because I couldn’t protect her from this monster. She would lay me against the wall those last couple nights when he would get into that bed. I already knew what that meant, and so did she. As I starred at that light blue wall, I could hear her silent whispers of “Please No.” It infuriated me I wished so badly that I could attack him. This monster was too big for me, and I felt like I had failed her. At night when he would leave, she would struggle to turn herself over on her side and bring me back to her. She would hold me so tight to cry. I will never forget those words, “Why does he hurt me if he loves me so much? What do I do that makes him so angry?” It broke my small, stuffed heart. I tried to tell her that she did nothing; he was just the boogie man incarnate. But of course she couldn’t hear me because I was just a teddy bear. I just hugged her back with everything I had to show her I was still here for her. When they took her to that hospital, she didn’t come back to me for two weeks. I knew she needed me. She came back with a dead look in her eyes. She has never been the same. She had to go through the police questioning alone. She didn’t sleep a wink without me. I would lay on these forever-tainted sheets missing my best friend. The smile may have been sown on my face, but there wasn’t one night that I would not cry on this bed, feeling her pain, aching to make it better. I know she still wonders why she had to go through it all. She doesn’t ask me anymore. She stays quiet, mostly. She has done amazing things since, like give a scholarship-winning speech to a crowd of hour hundred people. She slowly has gotten her smile back. Maybe this is one of those mysteries that are better left unresolved. I can never fully heal her pain, but I can protect her and her future kids from any other monsters.

Operation: Charlotte Winterpecks

“Every little girl wants to be loved.” These are the seven little words that I remember the most from her. To be quite honest, these were the last words I ever heard from her lips as she held me close that last night we slept together. These were actually the words that led me to find Charlotte Winterpecks fifty-two years later. My name is Brody Esquire Teddyskins; I used to be the C.E.O of “For Marilyn With Love,” a secret agency that sets up sad lonely children with talking toys, to bring back some magic into their lives. The whole reason I set up this agency was to save any other little boys and girls the tragedy of a promising life cut short like my Marilyn. Before I started this company I was like any other teddy bear. I had an owner. To me she was the most beautiful woman on this Earth, inside and out. She was as sweet as honey. There was never a moment that I didn’t feel her love for me. She was my best friend for over twenty years. I knew the real her, the part of her no one ever saw. Not even her husbands. To the rest of the world she was known as Marilyn Monroe, to me she will always be Norma Jeane.  The story of my journey to Charlotte all dates back to the warm early hours of August 5^th, 1962. I laid in bed talking to Marilyn as always. She had a lot of trouble sleeping at night, and most nights she didn’t sleep even with all those pills. It had been so long since the last time I could remember her truly happy. That night I lay close to her as she had that look in her eyes staring out the window at the night time sky. She had that look in her eyes like she was no longer with us here on Earth, like she was overthinking herself sick. “Brody, you know when I lay in bed and look at my life I see a lot of lonely moments. The silence kills me. You know that’s why I love the audience so much. When I turn “her” on, they love “her.” I hated when she used to talk like that. She implied that no one loved the real her, when that was what I adored the most. “Norma Jeane, look at me, I love you with all of my stuffed heart. You are my best friend. I will always love you.” I feel this is what our conversations consisted most of those last few nights. “You know what’s the saddest thing in the world to me Brody? The fact that somewhere out there even years from now, there will be another little girl just as helpless as I am. Just as mistreated and unloved. I want you to promise me that you will find her and love her. Love her like you have loved me. I just looked into her watery eyes and told her, “But Norma Jeane, you are my owner, you are my forever. I promised you my forever.” The tears ran down her cheeks, her soft milky white cheeks. “Brody, just promise me, you will find that little girl that hurts just as I do, and needs a little magic just as I have. Promise me you will find her and give her a forever she never thought she would have.” I couldn’t break the gaze from her eyes and all I could muster was a whisper sounding “Okay Norma Jeane, I promise.” She just held me close and we both went to sleep that night.   That was the last conversation I ever had with my Norma Jeane. I guess she just felt in her soul of souls that she wouldn’t make it. She died in her sleep that night. It was the worst thing in the world to lay there and watch those strange people come take her body. I knew that I would never have her back. Those strange people couldn’t know I was alive. I had to lay there with that stupid smile as my small stuffed heart broke, and I held the tears back as I heard them say “Yes, it’s confirmed, it is Marilyn Monroe.” I wanted to do nothing but scream back “Her name is not Marilyn! It is Norma Jeane! My Norma Jeane now make her come back to me!” But as everyone knows she didn’t come back to me. I no longer had an owner, a purpose. When her ex-husband Joe had to clean out her stuff I remember watching him with fascination. He cried every time a picture appeared or he picked up an article of clothing that would remind him of their relationship. It broke my heart, I believe with every piece of stuffing in me that they were meant to reconcile their relationship. I wondered at that moment what he was going to do with me, well I got my answer. Marilyn was the only one who knew I was alive, I could talk. So I laid perfectly still in his arms, as he picked me up. Through his tears he told me “I’m sorry buddy but it hurts too much to keep you.”   He put me in a box and gave me away to charity. Just like that, I lost my best friend, my owner, and now my home. For the next twenty years I went through various owners. All little children that would talk to me, hug me, play tea party with me. Yet though all the new homes and new owners, I never felt what I felt with Norma Jeane. Maybe it’s because I never got that promise out of my head. I was always on the lookout for the next Norma Jeane. How could I have promised her that? Maybe that added to her feeling like she wasn’t important. One day as my last child Rachel seemed to outgrow the need for a teddy bear. I decided one night as I laid on her closet floor, that was where she kept me since she didn’t need me anymore, that I was not going to wait around and be given away again like I had for the last twenty years. All of a sudden flashbacks to my last night with Marilyn came into my head. I made her a promise and I felt in the last twenty years I have not kept it. It was time to make it happen. That night I snuck out Rachel’s front door and never looked back. It was time to move on and find that little girl that needed my help. But it hit me if it had been twenty years and I came along all these little children and still hasn’t found that one child then there had to be so many other children that needed help. But I couldn’t do it alone. I would have to enlist help. That is when the idea for “For Marilyn with Love,” came to mind. I would create a secret agency that would help many other children. So many more than I could have helped alone. Embedded in every talking toy’s foot are the initials E.L. No one really knows what they stand for. There have been guesses like Eternal Love even Eternal Life. No one knows for sure, but what we do know is that when we need help, when we need everyone to gather, we close our eyes and mentally call on our brothers and sisters. When the initials light up all the other talking toys initials light up too. That starts the journey back to each other. The night my initials lit up I knew would be the start to the agency. Slowly but surely things fell into place and for the next 31 years we did nothing but produce smiles on children’s faces. Although so many children had grown into well-adjusted adults with our help I still felt like a failure. I had never found the next Norma Jeane. I searched through all the files myself before handing any of them off to the others. But I never got that same feeling.  Then like magic on August 5^th 2013 I had told Norma Jeane in my mind, “I’m so sorry I failed you. It’s been 51 years since your death and I never felt like I had another real owner after you. I haven’t found that little girl Norma Jeane, where is she. Should I just close up shop?” I always seemed to sit in that office and talk to Norma Jeane even though she was no longer there. My assistant Bernard walked in, “Mr. Teddyskins, we seem to have a problem.” “Not now Bernard, I have a lot on my mind.” “I know sir but we seem to have an unsolvable case…” He caught my attention in my 31 years of running this agency we never had a kicker before. “I am at my wits end with this young lady sir; no one can seem to get through to her. She is so deep in sadness nothing can seem to lift her out. She acts like a recluse since she doesn’t get along with her family. She sits in her room writing all day or reading. She lies in bed and cries at night. When any of the other agents I’ve sent look through her writing there seem to be one common theme she writes about…” “Well Bernard, what is it spit it out.” He looked bewildered by the statement in the file, unable to say it. I took the file from his hand and read the words out loud, “Every little girl wants to be loved…” I couldn’t believe it, the exact words Norma Jeane said. Was this the little girl I had been waiting for all these years? “I’ll take this case personally Bernard.” He looked astonished at what he just heard come out my mouth. “But sir, you are retired you haven’t had an owner in 31 years. We have given her three agents and none worked.” I grabbed the file from his hand and told him “I may have sat on the bench all these years, but this is a game changer.”  I sat there that night reading through Charlotte Winterpecks file. She was 16 years old. Kind of old to still believe in magic. This can explain why she did not connect with the other agents. There is a thing about us talking toys. We will only speak with you if your heart truly opens enough to us to let us in, so we can fill you with our magic. None of the other agents according to the file were given that chance by Charlotte, without any of them talking its understandable why she still felt so alone. As I kept looking the facts sounded more and more similar. Mostly a loner, very insecure, kind of risqué for her time and age just because she craved attention. Another hard hitting fact was that she was so outgoing and talented as a writer, but yet somehow she would end up feeling alone. Now the biggest coincidence in this whole case was who her idol was, Marilyn Monroe. Well she did resemble her in many ways now didn’t she? I could see the connection. The file had a copy of some of her work. One piece took me by surprise. “How is it in a crowd of people centered on my presence I still feel as lonesome as Tom Hanks in Castaway?” She was funny I could give her that much, but the overwhelming need for love, affection, and acceptance was all too similar to Norma Jeane. I felt a tingle in my small stuffed heart. This was the little girl I had been waiting for all these years. This was the next Norma Jeane. This was my last chance. My last chance at finding a home, another real owner, my last chance to save this little girl from the lonely moments. The silence would not kill another.    The next night I called Bernard into my office, “Look Bernard this case is special. I need you to package me into this box and mail me to Charlotte Winterpecks.” “But sir, how are you going to explain your appearance?” “Bernard, I have that covered, I included a note passing myself off as a gift from a poetry contest.” He looked worried. “Look Bernard, I started this agency with one mission statement “Every little girl wants to be loved. Those were the last words Norma Jeane ever said to me. I promised her I would find the next little girl like her that needed me as much as Norma Jeane needed me. I believe with everything in me that Charlotte Winterpecks is that little girl. I have one last chance…to give her a forever.” “Sir it’s been 51 years since Marilyn….I mean Norma Jean’s death, don’t you think it’s time to give up on that promise? Look at what you have built are you really telling me you are willing to let it all go for a child you don’t know will accept you?” I stood there expressionless, I had never thought of the possibility of Charlotte not accepting me. “No, Bernard. It’s been 51 years and if I didn’t give up all these years I won’t now this is the girl. Now I need you to close up this package and leave me in the front for the mail man. This is it. She needs me, and for the first time in 51 years I need an owner. Now there is a manila envelope I want you to open in exactly 10 weeks. It will entail everything  you need.”  Everything else in time and space was irrelevant till I first saw Charlotte Winterpeck’s face when she opened the box I was in. She was stunning. Long black hair, big brown eyes, the same milky white skin. As she read the note I included she smiled and hugged me. “You seem like a keeper, and you already have the most adorable name.” As she held me I looked around her room and saw the large posters that filled her walls. Two replicas of famous pieces by Van Gogh , couple classic 1980s movies and right by her mirror there she was, a large portrait of my previous owner, the famous Marilyn Monroe. Those first couples of weeks were hard; I can see why none of the other agents had been able to talk to her. She was very closed off. It seemed hopeless until one night she sat by the window looking at the night time sky crying. Slowly and quietly I dropped myself behind her. The movement made her jump but she embraced me anyway. “Brody, how is it I can have all the talent in the world and still be so alone. Those crowds at school, they adore me because that seems to be the thing to do. Everyone adores me but no one really knows me.” A tear strolled down her face and landed on my initials, they lit up. “Brody, I know you were a gift, but I truly think you are the only one that has seen the real me. I just wish you could talk. I’m tired of the silence. Sometimes the silence is too loud.” At that moment she saw my initials light up, she stood bewildered as I came to life before her very eyes. I was finally granted under the rules of talking toys to speak to her. She freaked out naturally. But she did let me explain everything about the agency and why I was there. She looked at me with fascination once I got to the part about Marilyn. “Wait, so you mean to tell me, Marilyn knew about me 51 years ago?” “In a sense Charlotte, yes she did. She wanted to prevent what happened to her to happen to you. I know you feel what she did Charlotte. But I don’t want you to succumb to it like she did.” She wiped away any pesky tears that made their way through. “Brody, so you mean to tell me that in a way you needed to find me to find a purpose again huh? I was your light at the end of the tunnel?” I smiled a warm smile I hadn’t given since Norma Jean. “Charlotte, we are each other’s lights. All those other toys that so happen to just disappear, I sent them. You were another file in our system. You did not connect with any of them that is why they could not talk to you, but you gave me that chance and that is why you are here, hearing me now. I need you just as much as you need me. I feel just as empty as you do. I made a promise to Norma Jeane. When I found that other little girl that needed me I would give her the forever I planned on giving Norma Jeane. Charlotte I want to give you my forever. I know you are older than most children but your heart isn’t. That is why you were able to let me in. I am willing to stay by your side forever, even by your children’s side. The way Norma Jeane intended me to be.” She smiled looking at the poster of her beloved idol and my best friend. “Brody what about the agency?” “Well my dear friend, I covered that. I told my assistant Bernard that there was a manila envelope with instructions on what to do after this case. You were referred to as the unsolvable case. But if you agree to let me be your forever you are no longer unsolvable, and neither am I. In that envelope contains instructions on who will run the company as my successor. I am stepping down as C.E.O. I want a real home, a real owner. I wanted you Charlotte. I told him to open it after ten weeks and that ten week deadline is tomorrow. So if you want a forever with me he will open it and ‘For Marilyn with Love’ will continue without me while you and I grow old together. If not I will understand and will leave you and continue my duties.” She stared at me in amazement. I hoped she would make the right decision. It had been so long since I had a home, those last few weeks felt so amazing, to be a normal bear. She looked at me and opened up her covers of her bed inviting me in. She held me in her arms and said, “All my life I felt so alone, like no one understood me. I love Marilyn because I felt like she would have gotten me. But since you have been with me I have felt like you always heard me. Like I belonged with you. You couldn’t save Marilyn but Brody you were just in time to save me. I feel like Marilyn’s gift to me was the forever she never had. I wouldn’t give that up for the world. For the first time since Norma Jeane death a tear rolled out my eyes. “Then it’s settled, let our forever begin. Let us fulfill the promise I made to Norma Jeane. I started my journey with the words “every little girl wants to be loved” and I ended my journey with the words “every little girl wants to be loved.”