America.

Hello, to those who are reading this blog, this is Jason, Nyjah's counselor. He wanted to write about the movie we just watched, America, but because of a recent skate injury he is unable to type very well. I offered to write what he wrote for him because he wanted to share this. 




I remember reading this book in 6th grade, when everything was going wrong and everything was so messed up. I remember wishing I had somebody to talk, like America had Dr. B. I remember reading this part that goes, I'm not that little kid anymore.... I'm not white and I'm not black and I'm not anything, but I'm a little bit of everything.... I look down and it's just me.  That's how I felt, exactly how I felt. I'm mixed. Not Black, not White. Nothing. Just a boy. Just a boy that got lost in his own head, trying to find somebody to talk to, desperate to talk to anybody but just not knowing how to get the words out.

America floats away a lot, up to Mt. Everest when things get too scary or he thinks about the people who hurt him. My counselors thought I floated away a lot when they first saw me, when I was 12. I didn't know how to tell them about where I was going, I was afraid they'd take my place away and I wouldn't have anywhere safe to go anymore. I thought it'd be tainted.

In the movie, America talks about when it, felt good sometimes. I remember when the touching wasn't bad, when it didn't hurt as bad and he was gentle. Everything changed, his voice went from soft to rough in a split second but I was caught in his trap and couldn't get away.

I don't remember a lot of the movie, I got lost in my head alot remembering him, and what he did. My back started to ache, so did other parts of my body. Parts I still can't name, the words don't come out. I remember when I told Jason, when everything was out in the open and there was a silence that hung in the air. It hung in the air like wet cloth, drowning, covering everything. I couldn't breathe. Jason had to remind me. Breathe in and out. Deep breaths, in and out. I couldn't hear him.

NYJAH!

I was hitting myself, down there, between my legs. Punching myself until he grabbed my arms and stopped me. I just kept saying it was all my fault. Cause that's how I felt. Since sometimes it felt good, I was giving him permission, like it was okay.



This is all Nyjah wrote before I noticed him getting agitated and crumbling the paper up. Before getting to the trash can, he gave me the paper and wanted me to read it. When I was done he said he wanted to share it, so here it is.

Out to Sea

On my surfboard I'm free
The waves crash
I push through them
On the other side
In a completely different world
New language
New faces
Not a care in the world
I push myself up trying to catch a wave
Staying balanced
I can feel the board moving underneath my feet
I steady it
Somehow, through all of this
Through the weight loss
Cutting
Pain
Hurt
Fear
I feel at home
I am safe
Connected with the ocean
At one with nature
There is no group
No one forcing you to talk
To tell them
To spill the secrets
Just the soothing sounds of the waves crashing upon the shore
The sounds I long to hear
You are safe
They tell me
It is not your fault

Tired.

Sometimes I can feel myself getting tired and wanting to give up. I hate having to be weighed and having to see the numbers pop up on the screen. It's like their mocking me in their own way. Yes today was a good day, yes I have been gaining weight and I'm where I'm supposed to be. But I feel so worn down. They try to tell me You're safe here. No one will hurt you. You're going to be an adult soon, no longer a child. You can make your own choices. Like turning 18 suddenly makes me a man and makes me a fighter and no longer a victim.

New Kid

We got a new kid today and he was assigned to my group. He saw me and immediately wanted to become my friend and asked me what it was like to grow up in the hood. I asked him what it was like to grow up stupid. He tried to punch me but I ducked before he could get a good shot in and shoved him on his ass. Should have had points taken away but nobody saw it. He said "Alright, I got you."

Got what?

Fuck you.

Missing Her.

I'm missing my mom a lot today. Normally I don't really think about her that much because my last interaction with her was less than positive. I keep remembering how she'd be cooking in the kitchen with her hair pulled back and sleeves rolled up. She'd be singing or whistling some song or singing along with the radio. She'd always have it on a Jazz station because she hated rap. Sometimes she'd be trying out a new recipe and ask me to taste it to see if it tasted right, she was a great cook. For a while we didn't have enough for groceries and my dad was trying to make more money driving trucks. She'd go without so me and my sister could eat but I don't know if she noticed me not being able to eat either. Sometimes I'd leave my plate for her in the fridge wrapped up so she'd have food. I was never hungry anyways.

Old

Once upon a time there was a little boy who loved his father and wanted to be just like him. He would follow his father around even when he was in trouble and got punished he would still follow him around.

I miss my dad and I need him so much right now, he never hurt me. People say getting switched and hit is bad, but its not to me. Not to everyone in my neighborhood because thats how we were all raised and how we are all raised. Its not black or white, its where you are from and how your parents were raised and how they learned from their parents.


I see kids on tv who throw fits and break things, scream at their parents and curse at them and the parents go on tv asking what to do with their kids because they don't know what to do. If I ever did anything like that, pow, I'd be down and I wouldn't ever do it again. I'm not mad at him for doing it and I'm not sad because he did it, he had a lot of other things on his mind and he would leave for a few days. He drove trucks and would take jobs all over and then come home at the end of the week come home with stuffed animals for me and my sister.

Went to art therapy again today, more painting and talking. I got to use clay today too, I've never used it before which might sound weird and dumb but my school didn't have any so we never used it. Painting is a lot of fun and a real good way to express myself.

That's it for now.