Let me curry their favor.

My first year of college was pretty.. interesting. After speaking with the counselor who ended up being completely useless I was able to bypass CIT 100 which is "This is a computer. Here is the power button." But they would not let me test out of anything else. I mean I took programming in high school and by this point I was already fixing my own piece of shit computer so I was fairly advanced when it came to the hardware. None the less I was able to take a "Introductory to Java" class along with some core classes and Japanese! Somehow I ended up with a part time job at the bookstore on campus so I could help my mom with expenses around the house and have some money so I could buy a bus pass. I was balling out of control.

First day of class I bounce into the Java class all bright eyed and bushy tailed I've always been when it came to school. My teacher introduces himself. I have no idea what he said. Maybe I'm just having an off day? The adrenaline of being in college is surging and because of it I'm not able to understand this guy. He starts going on with his lecture and I look around and everyone else has the same puzzled look on his face. They don't know what this guy is saying. He has a very thick Indian(Dot not feather) accent. He'd ask us questions through the lecture and no one answers anything. Which of course sends him into a fit because we should be able to answer the questions he's just given us the answer to right? NOPE. But no one wants to man up and say anything because.. you know.. no one wants to be rude. Except me. Towards the end of the class he gives us a homework assignment and everyone grimaces because no one knows what it is. Seeing the despair amongst everyone's face I decided to bite the bullet and become the hero and savior of the class!

"Professor.. " I raise my hand. I can feel his eyes staring daggers into me. "Can you repeat the homework assignment? I didn't hear it." Again he says something unintelligible. "Professor could you write it down on the board? You have a thick accent. Its a little hard to understand you." At this point he flips completely and goes into the red zone. He starts saying... well a bunch of stuff. I have no idea what it is but its what imagined was a bunch of insults as if I've offended his core being. I keep apologizing and bowing. Why was I bowing I have no ideal... the guy wasn't Asian. Then he looks at me and says in the slowest English ever "I. will. make. sure. you. will. never. pass. a. programming. class. ever."  and stormed out. Everyone in the class kinda just stared at me their eyes saying "Thank you, Savior" but no one having the balls.. methior social aptitude to say anything to me. I go back by the counselors office after class and explain the situation to my counselor. A middle aged African American man. I'd built somewhat of a rapport with him. He was excited that I was a young black male who was pursuing a college education.. pulling myself up by the bootstraps and not falling into trap of the ghetto. Which wasn't really a threat.. I came from  a middle class family with parents who loved and cared about me. The ghetto was the farthest thing away. My parents made me watch MenaceIISociety at a young age.

I explain the situation to him he gets up and closes the door. He tells me "Well that's those Hajis for you." My eyes open wide as if a child just hear a really bad swear word. "They have the entire IT department in between their fingers. They come over here on their sacred cows and lock up whole departments. If he said you're never going to pass a programming class he's probably already sent a message back to the Taj Mahal and you're screwed. The best thing I can recommend is to just drop the class and avoid all last names that aren't American."  I was blown back the amazing amounts of bigotry I was just exposed to. This guy said everything just as plain as vanilla ice cream. Which leads me to believe this is probably a common occurrence and he's not only said it several times but already had a resolution for the situation. I explained to him with my Financial Aid if I dropped the class I had to pay it back Which wasn't really an option for me considering I was raking in an awesome 17 hours a week at the bookstore.  He leaned into his computer.. pulled up my name.. did some clicking around and then he had my out. "Oh I have your answer for you! You're on FAFSA right?" I nod my head, not exactly sure where he's going with this. "Well since you're taking six classes you can drop a maximum of 2 for whatever reason. Still be a full-time student, not have to pay back and still be eligible for FAFSA next year!" I was uneasey with the whole situation. I felt like I was committing some kind of fraud. I didn't want to do to prison. You know what they do to cute guys like me in prison?

I tell the guy its something I'll have to think about. I wanted to go home and run the situation by my mother first and see what she thought of it all. Oh my way out he prints a list and tells me. "There are all the black professors and what classes they teach. If you use this next time you won't have any problems." He nods. Not a normal nod.. the nod you see two black men do on the street so that they acknowledge each other. Come on I know you've seen it! You can admit it. Its not racist. 

I didn't wanna  drop the class. I felt like it was a terrible way to get my college education off to a start. I also had somewhat of a moral objection to doing what was suggested to me. I was kinda worried at first. "Is this the way the world works? Major issues and problems are ignored in favor of bandaid fixes that appeases one party involved? Just so they don't make a big fuss over the whole situation?

I went home to my mother and had a conversation that I'm sure changed me as a person in a very major way.

Every end has a beginning.

When I was a kid.. I had big dreams. I'd finish high school and go to college. I'd meet the girl of my dreams do an internship at a nice fortune 100 company and work there while pursing my masters. Eventually get married and have a nice small wedding off the coast of Italy. I'd work hard at my job.. "the company" I'd call it. Eventually work my way into a nice cushy position..maybe even  make partner while taking vacations every six months to far off and exotic lands. Surprisingly enough things didn't go that way at all!

Oh right I should probably introduce myself. That's how these things usually go right? Let me introduce  myself.   The youngest of three siblings and the only male!! I'm Kasey a mid twenties African America, or as some would say black, male who still has big dreams for the future.. amidst the bouts of despair I have of the past, for the present and for the future.  So stay a while and listen.. and I'll try not to have this end up being too depressing.

So of  course my whole plan for my future was dependent on my future. I graduated high school and my plan was to limp through community college with financial aid and hopefully get accepted to the local university. To be honest I'm a smart person.. I did just enough to get through high school like an average student. I didn't take ACTs or SATs because no one at the highschool I went to didn't really seem to care about its students so they never brought it up.

My dad wanted me to immediately go get a job and head into the workforce, much like he did. Except my dad dropped out of school at around 9th grade and left his country bumpkin life in Mississippi. He made the move to California where he lived in weekly motels and worked moving things at Grand Central Market. So obviously he wanted his only son to follow in his foot steps. EXCEPT. I've never worked a day in my life. I was the baby.. the only son. Everything was handed to me on a silver platter and often times I refused it and demanded a gold one. I mean who would say no?

I pleaded with my dad to let me go to college and try to get a part time job.. maybe at the university? However he was having none of that. I was to get up.. the day after my graduation and start applying to every fast food place within two bus routes and find a job and start working.   There was no wiggle room or anything. So what was there for me to do? The same thing that kids do every time one of their parents do something that they don't like. You tell the other one! After my dad left and went somewhere I burst into my moms bedroom with tear rolling down my face. I leap into her lap and rest my head on her chest.. I know my mother. Anything I ask at this point isn't going to be refused. I could tell my mom some strange man touched me on the bus and she would kill. That man for various reasons this isn't something I went to the well on too many times thought it is always nice to have an Ace. My mom asks me whats going on.. and I explain to her the whole situation with my dad. She gives me a nice deep hug and tells me that I don't have to worry about anything. She was going to go with me to the college tomorrow and help me get registered for some classes. My dad comes home and my parents have the argument to end all arguments... little did I know my little number caused more damage than I could have ever possibly predicted.

My first week of college my parents came to a mutual decision to terminate the contract between them. For those of you who don't get that.. they decided to get a divorce and go their separate ways. Now all parents fight... people are going to disagree.. and sometimes you're not going to be able to bow out gracefully. I figured it was going to be one of those fights where they're mad at each other for a few days and it blows over. Not this time. I guess my dad wanted me to not pursue education was so vile for my mother that she just blew up completely on him and he just couldn't take it. They wanted me to know that it wasn't my fault (Of course it wasn't.. I was just the catalyst that caused the whole fight..) and they both still loved me. My dad was going to stay in Vegas but he found himself a nice small house near a letter named street and would live there while working at my Aunt's(on my moms side) restaurant. I'd continue living with my disabled mother(I'll get to this later.. calm down) in her house provided to her by the government....

I don't know about you guys but I feel like the best way to start is with a nice wholesome story about how a child who's thinking long term.. (and doesn't want to work because he's lazy) caused his parents to get a divorce and split up is the great way to start a blog!