Articles – Rubén Sebastián Muñiz

July 10, 2019July 10, 2019

Taking My Younger Self With Me.

I tried to start writing this a little differently- ‘Breaking up with my problematic, younger self was the hardest’ – but it didn’t fit in the title line of Samsung Notes, so I had to rethink things.

I came up with what you see above, and it makes a lot more sense to me. I can’t ‘break up’ with any part of myself from the past, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I can’t compartmentalize and characterize parts of my life as ‘not-me’ – even though some things from the past aren’t ‘me’ now, they definitely were at some point.

There’s no value in looking back at life and criticizing your former self – that ‘former’ self is still you. Turn that hindsight criticism on its head. Never mind thinking of how much a (insert insult) you were or how embarrassed you feel revisiting a particular moment. Celebrate your ‘phases,’ your regrets. They’ve made you who you are, as you are, right here and now.

These awkward, regrettable, reckless, cringe-worthy times of our lives have gotten us through every present moment of our lives right up to the present.

I try to remember this sentiment and the road in between ‘then’ and now. I try to love and smile at my memories, even of the things I’m not proud of. Who else will learn from your past mistakes, but you? Who else knows your deepest secrets, deepest memories, but you?

Celebrate and love these things. Regrets, grief, always bring sadness. They’re also opportunities to triumph, and turn hard times of the past into strength, by way of honesty, courage, and vulnerability.

Do not shame yourself for having lived a life with mistakes. Love yourself and take your younger self with you, and through your wiser, more seasoned eyes, you can go forward in the world as one. – RSM

June 23, 2018

#12YearsAFacebookUser – Peer Pressure, Social Stigma, Tech Liberation.

It’s been about 3 months since I deactivated my profile on the world’s favorite social media network. It’s the best thing I could have done for my tech / social media footprint, my eyes, my free time, and my privacy. And I still think about reactivating it sometimes, too.

My 2018 New Year’s resolution (and 2017, too =/ ) was to do less on social media. Be less involved across different platforms, delete what I didn’t want, didn’t need, didn’t use, etc. I knew I was becoming a bit of a tech zombie, between working in IT and social media being the main way that me and my whole damn generation communicate.

Back in 2016 I would have several notifications a minute on my phone at peak times during the day. It was just too much – Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, personal email, work email, texts, and of course the occasional actual phone call (always when I’m in the middle of typing something, no less) – it became a headache to just have a smartphone. I would silence my phone for a 2 hour movie and would illuminate my screen to see at least a dozen notifications. My anxiety levels were being spiked by almost every vibration, every time that little sound went off on my phone.

The allure of smartphones as a new technology is long gone. As millennial in my late 20s, I just get tired of using technology. It’s even harder to be an extrovert in today’s world while trying to not over-use social media. I had been deleting unused and unwanted social media accounts of mine since 2015. Some I stayed off, and some I brought back, reinstalled and logged back in. Why? Feelings of boredom, loneliness, not knowing what to fill the void with when I deleted a heavily used app of mine. Mainly, I didn’t want to be so ‘against the grain’ that I lost my most practical ways to communicate with friends and family.

I had been on Facebook since 2006, when I was 16, a sophomore / junior in high school. Back then, Facebook was considered the way out from the mainstream social media site of the time – MySpace. We all know how that went.

Facebook became the central hub of how I communicated with anyone and everyone in my college and post-college years, save for my closer friends and family who had my phone number. Between profiles, photo tags, and Messenger, it became the norm, the dominant avenue, the unquestionable arena where all people (my age, at least) were expected to be.

It’s no secret Facebook has their shady side. Most people have heard of and/or know about the recent info leaks, but don’t want to cut the cord. Why? It’s just not convenient, and that’s no accident, either.

A common thing you’ll hear in conversations among anyone nowadays, not just young adults is “Find me on Facebook,” or “Facebook me.” It can be awkward, sometimes even a social deterrent, when someone replies “I’m not on Facebook.” How surreal is it, that a social media platform is so strong, so widespread, that it carries a social stigma for those without a profile? This is an underlying form of peer pressure that is still a big reason why millions of users have begrudgingly kept their profiles active.

I deactivated (not deleted, that’s different in FB world) my account right before the whole scandal with Caimbridge Analytica came about, so I feel like my timing was pretty impeccable.

I built up to this by taking a few de-techifying steps for myself over the past few years:

Disabling ALL phone notifications except for texts and alarms
Re-evaluating, uninstalling, and deleting accounts on unnecessary apps on my phone
Making accounts private
Archiving / downloading my entire Facebook profile and account
Deactivating my profile

The last 2 steps came this Spring, and I feel liberated to a large degree. I didn’t go full FB commando though, I still use the Messenger app (no site profile required) and I didn’t ‘request deletion’. The Facebook process for deactivating profiles is full of ‘Are you sure?’ type confirmations, guilt-tripping tactics included. As a user, one is not able to fully delete their profile without ‘Requesting full deletion,’ and awaiting some kind of correspondence.

I haven’t requested full deletion, because, well, after depending on social media my entire adult life, it is hard to fully let go, despite all that I know about over-using technology and social media.

I don’t want my own human experience to be desensitized by technology. I also understand it is an ever-changing world we live in, with no ‘normal’ really lasting for too long.

Something I try to do is strike a balance between making social media useful, but not so much that my time, energy, and moods are consumed by it. Don’t be a tech zombie, but do enjoy what works for you. Don’t go out of your way to be a tech hipster, either. – RSM

June 11, 2018

Thanks, Tony – to Anthony Bourdain

Source: Twitter @bourdain, CNN -- https://twitter.com/bourdain/status/469593294834794496 — DJ Kool Herc (left) with Anthony Bourdain at Moodies Record Store in The Bronx.

(My goal was to emulate Anthony Bourdain’s writing style and narrative voice while writing this.)

2015.

A lot of details in my life were, to put it softly, up in the air.

Fate had pressed the reset button on my life.

I had more couch time during this year then ever before. Not a good thing, folks.

I was used to the thrill of the night, the crisp smell of New York City hot dogs, pretzels, and streetmeat permeating the air of wherever I ended up for the evening.

I neglected my mom’s couch and TV for years and didn’t look back, until the time came where I had to, as us literary types would say, ‘gracefully surrender the things of youth.’So with no job, an upcoming IT course to take in the summer and a will to resist my former temptations, I got comfortable and found a few shows to watch.

It sounds easy, but for me it wasn’t.

When it came to TV in 2015, I was a strict ‘only movies and sports’ guy, with a hard pass on any TV series. Back then, I couldn’t sit still. I hated being inside and sedentary for too long. I figured my time was better spent outside, being with human beings than watching other human beings on the idiot box.

I started watching ‘Last Week Tonight with John Oliver’ and ‘Ancient Aliens’. I had a good laugh every week and a plethora of alien conspiracy theories to catch up on. I loved both shows but was easily bored after a few months, which is why I tended to shy away from TV shows in the first place.

Then I stumbled upon an old rocker-looking type fronting a travel show called ‘No Reservations.’ I watched Anthony’s Bourdain’s trip to Colombia. And then to Beirut. And then to Seoul. And then to Tokyo. And then I re-watched the Tokyo episode two more times. And then Johannesburg, and then Madagascar… I could go on.

I was more eager to cook new recipes (or even cook at all, at first) after watching a slew of episodes documenting his delicious meals, late nights, and heart to hearts with friends and strangers alike.

Watching Parts Unknown and No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain became way more to me than just finding a show to watch. He was my tour guide, giving me and his audience a casual, blue collar-esque, gritty yet beautiful view of the world. He spoke my language, and I don’t just mean English. I loved the way he interacted with local communities abroad. Bourdain focused less on ‘high-end cuisine’ and landmarks, and more on the people that passed by, lived, and worked in or near the famous, touristy crowd magnets.

He seemed comfortable everywhere he went, interacting with any and every local willing to give the white-haired, tatted up American man with TV cameras the time of day. Bourdain showed me places I never knew of before that by the time the credits rolled, I often had them listed on my travel bucket list.

While I applied to jobs, learned a new career, and stayed out of trouble, every new place he showed me strengthened my aspirations. “I want to be able to travel like this,” I thought. Bourdain had a traveler’s dream job, through his culinary and writing skills. I thought maybe one day my writing skills or something else could afford me the same.

Of all the tens of thousands of TV shows ever made, there’s really only one time my actual neighborhood was shown at all, and it was Anthony Bourdain’s episode about The Bronx. It blew my mind to see him walking down White Plains Road, 233rd Street, and meeting DJ Kool Herc, the founding father of Hip Hop music, at Moodies Record store in Wakefield, the Bronx. Tony was already my self-proclaimed ‘old man goals’ before this, and it was a uniquely heartwarming moment for Bourdain to walk down the streets I grew up on, looking around my neighborhood with the same admiration and curiosity as he would to any other place in the world he had visited.

It’s pretty clear he has influenced me a lot. I don’t like to think he’s gone, he’s just on his way, traveling somewhere else. – RSM

November 4, 2014April 6, 2023

The Breakfast Diet

There’s a new craze among young adults across the nation, but not necessarily throughout the world. It’s called ‘The Breakfast Diet,’ a food eating pattern where one has a meal within the first hour or so of waking up.

The word ‘breakfast’ is actually pronounced like ‘brekfist’ in English, which translates to the act of breaking a fast, or an overnight hunger strike, if you will. Scientists do not research the phenomenon, but scholars maintain that breakfast IS, in fact, the most important meal of the day. The Breakfast Diet is a great way to harness large amounts of life force energy for the day that lies ahead. Nutrients from foodstuffs consumed provide protection against evil spirits like fatigue and irritability.

There are many ways to enjoy trying the Breakfast Diet on, like a new pair of skinny jeans:

-By yourself in your home. This works great for introverts!

-With a loved one at a diner. Or a loved two or three . . . if you’re into that sort of thing.

-At a fast food restaurant, although it may give you more of a stomach ache than peace of mind.

-At a Bed & Breakfast, a hotel-like location more popular in the ancient 1900s where breakfast is served and beds are supplied.

-At a hotel, which does the same thing as a Bed & Breakfast but is way more legit.

Believe it or not athletes around the world swear by breakfast, as well as other people who eat breakfast. You may not lose weight right away by trying the Breakfast Diet, but I do promise you from personal experience:

It feels wonderful to wake up, eat something you made yourself, and not spend the rest of the morning thinking ‘What the fuck is my life?’

Try the Breakfast Diet. It will take your fucks away. – RSM

October 20, 2014

5 Ways To Overcome The Quarter Life Crisis

I was going through it from late summer until mid October. If parents are reading, Johnny and Jane aren’t just going through a phase if they’re freaking out over post-college plans or if they can’t seem to find that one stable job.

Growing up has taken a whole new meaning to the generation with the social label of ‘Millenial’ placed on them. The economy in the United States has shifted many a mindset from saving to holding onto what you have for dear life, for the ‘kids’. If 20-somethings aren’t kids anymore (we’re not) we are now at the very bottom of the totem pole in the adult world.

Things are different. A friend told me once, “Getting a good job nowadays is like getting a record deal.” This is what my personal quarter life crisis had centered around. This is how I managed to keep on keepin’ on through some recent hard times:

1. Self Awareness.

I made a lot of friends and memories in my young adult years (18-24 years old). Looking backwards and forwards like a confused driver who can’t fit into his parking spot, I’ve realized what kind of person I am. Mistakes were made and awesome times were had. I hold no regrets in my mind or on my chest or anywhere else in my proverbial anatomy. Growing up doesn’t always mean logging your height on your doorframe. It means taking a step back and looking around to see what it is you want in life and how to achieve it. Achieve on, friends.

2. Breaking up with Denial.

“My parents don’t want to me to do this.”

“I love him/her, it doesn’t matter if they’re not good for me.”

“I’ll do that life changing thing later, it’s too much work.”

Those statements are all BS. If you think BS thoughts then YOU are BS. Think about it. It’s one thing to take on too much at once and then implode; I did that and it sucks. But to deny responsibility for one’s own actions is an irreplaceable trait of the unwanted. No one digs a liar. Contemplate on that before you apply to do anything you have to apply to do. It will hurt you more in the long run to “Fake it ‘til you make it” then to “Be real and see what happens.”

3. Have Fun

You have a lot of responsibility, you young adult you, but it’s still a great idea to go to that concert, meet someone new, and kick ass on the dance floor when you can! This is the basis of life: enjoying it. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, and chicks don’t go for the dull boys. Same thing applies to all other romantic combinations. If you can’t have fun while being destroyed by The Man or your job, then they have you on a tighter leash than you may be willing to admit.

4. Toning Down The Nonsense

Not enough fun, sadly is not as bad as too much fun. Such is the downfall of many a Millenial crossing over into young adulthood. I’m a victim of my own inner party animal running a bit too wild and free. We all love to party, but some of those late nights should count for something more than being the one to last the longest on a keg stand. Toning down the nonsense simply means every night is not a good time. Some nights suck. A lot. What matters is being able to hold back that rave-thirsty individual within you until the time is right and in moderation with more important priorities. I’ll be rereading this paragraph for months to come to let it sink into my own head.

5. Self Reassurance

Does life suck?

Yes.

Getting exactly what you want out of life is never easy and very rare. Working to get what you want makes whatever comes your way all the more easy to deal with. Times with friends can help you forget that you’re alone in the world, fighting tooth and nail to achieve whatever you set out to do. Family will always remind you that you never really were alone in the world. As long as you don’t get too down on yourself or go crazy with stress, you’ll be fine; I mean hey, I did both and I’m still hanging in there. – RSM

July 4, 2014July 4, 2014

19 Hilariously Cute and Deep Thoughts From My Fourth Grade Journal

A couple of days ago while clearing out old boxes in our apartment my mother found a journal I had kept as part of my daily class assignments in the 4th grade. Every entry is dated between Sepetember 1999 and June 2000.

It was humbling as well as mind blowing to see what was on my mind when I was 9 – 10 years old. I realized that despite a 14+ year difference from then to now I have a very similar outlook on life as I did while in elementary school. A few words are misspelled and some entries are unfinished, but a lot of what I re-read from the journal made me think really deeply about my own perspective and how it has evolved with age. It was also a laugh riot much of the time. I read through the whole thing a few days ago and have several interesting quotes to share from my pre-pubescent, unwaveringly optimistic self:

1. My prediction of what life would be like at age 20:

September 15, 1999:

“At the age of 20, I’ll probably look for a job. I want to be either a lawyer, a cop or an architect.”

I was way off there.

2. A more accurate prediction about ‘The Simpsons’:

September 21, 1999:

“My favorite TV show is The Simpsons because its so funny. I watch it every day. I think that show should never come off air. It’s the best show.”

The Simpsons have not gone off the air since their first season in 1989. Called it, bruh.

3. My theory of how space travel would solve the eventual problem of overpopulation:

September 23, 1999:

“If I went to space, I’d try to find planetary systems. I’d build a glass dome on every planet I find so people can live on other places than Earth. I’d make spaceships go much, much faster. That way we can reach new planets faster, that way Earth won’t get crowded.”

Not a bad idea I guess, although technology isn’t there just yet.

4. An eerie anecdote about a recurring dream:

September 30, 1999:

“My dream last night was a [dream I had] dreamt before. It’s when I’m on a swing over train tracks. I almost got hit and then, I wake up.”

This one was really interesting to me, especially considering in recent years I’ve done much research on lucid dreaming and have tried successfully several times to make myself lucid. I even remembered what this dream looked like when I read this! It was something that hadn’t crossed my mind in over a decade and I didn’t even remember that I had recurring dreams at 9 years old. Triptastic.

5. A visit from the leaders of the Ursuline sisters to my school.

Ocotber 8, 1999:

“I thought yesterday was great! Yesterday Sister Letizia and Sister Maria Dolorosa [De La Rosa*] came over to my school. I think they had a great time. I know I did!”

This was a very special day. The leaders of the Ursuline sisters, an international organization of nuns who founded my elementary/middle school St. Philip Neri came to visit the school. My 4th grade teacher was Sister Jeannie, an Ursuline nun who will always have a special place in my heart. She invited me and my classmate/best friend in life Bianca to come have lunch with the Ursuline sisters, one from Indonesia and one from Italy if I remember correctly. Me and Bianca were selected because we had the best grades in Sr. Jeannie’s class. It was a great time and there was even an article in the Roman Catholic local newspaper Catholic New York where Bianca and I were interviewed about the reconstruction of St. Philip Neri Church. I did a lot of internet digging but couldn’t find the article =(.

6. My undying love for The New York Yankees and my rivalry with my dad, a life long Mets fan:

October 13, 1999:

“The Yankees are the best team ever! They’ve won 24 championships and this year ther might win their 25th! My dad says the Mets are better though. But that’s not true. Because the Yankees rule!”

The Subway Series rivalry has been a recurring topic between me and my dad throughout my life. The Yankees went on to win the World Series that year and made it a 3-peat in 2000. They won the whole thing again in 2009. I really hope Derek Jeter can retire on a championship this year.

7. My thoughts on the imagination:

October 18, 1999:

“I use my imagination to do anything or go anywhere. My imagination makes me anything. I can be swimming with the fish or flying with the birds.”

I like this one a lot. By coincidence in recent years I used a similar line as the last sentence in a song I wrote.

8. Where I thought I would be at age 28:

October 27, 1999:

“When I’m 28 I hope to have a nice life. I’d like to have a wife. I think I’ll have a child, too. I’ll have a decent job to support my family; I think being 28 will give me responsibility. I’m sure I’ll be mature enough to handle it . . .”

A surprisingly level-headed and humbling statement to re-read from my 9 year old self.

Who knows? I’ll be 28 in 4 years and usually don’t make plans past a week into the future. In 2018 this might be a reality, but we’ll have to wait and see.

9. My plans when I thought about running for President in 2000:

November 5, 1999:

“If I were President I would make the U.S. the most enjoyable country in the world! I’ll make school fun! For lunch they’ll be McDonald’s food (which will be required by law). Every time someone has to take their child to their job, the kid automatically gets transported to the nearest D.Z. (D.Z. is short for Discovery Zone. This is also required by law.) D.Z. will include laser tag, arcade games and climbing tubes (this is all required by law).”

Dude. Lmfao.

My 9 year old fantasy of being POTUS involves a lot of ridiculously short-sighted executive orders mainly revolving around the happiness of children, which is great; in hindsight however I’m not too sure an exclusive contract between McDonald’s and every school cafeteria in the U.S. is such a great idea. It is a true shame though that Discovery Zone isn’t really around anymore. I was the epitome of a 90’s kid.

10. Another really cool one about dreaming:

November 10, 1999:

“When I sleep, I dream about fantasy worlds, mystical journeys and mythical adventures. I can do anything in my dreams. That means I can do anything, anywhere, anytime, anyplace! But when I wake up it’s all over. But there’s always tomorrow…”

Totally love this entry! It reminds me that as a youngster I was just as much a free spirit as I am now, and wondered about life, dreaming and consciousness even back then. Sankofa in full effect.

11. Perfectionism and anxiety over my grades.

November 17, 1999:

“I hope my report card is wonderful. I usually get good grades, but this is a new teacher I’m dealing with. I’m curious about my report card, but I’m afraid too.”

Another recurring theme in my life: grade anxiety. I love the drawing. Such symbolism. I had nothing to worry about; throughout elementary I school I got straight A’s for the most part. This may have been the trimester where I got first honors in my class. I’ll always remember that not so much for the academic achievement as much for the fact that when I got first honors in the 4th grade it was the only time I outdid my life long friend Bianca in that respect. She usually took first honors and I always got second honors. *Dusts off shoulder*

*Drops Mic*

12. A great entry to display on the 4th of July:

November 19, 1999:

“Life in the colonial times was hard and diffcult. Well, that’s just my opinion. In the colonial times America had just started and they were still under the control of Great Britain. They had a Revolutionary War and to Britain’s surprise, the thirteen colonies won. If the thirteen colonies hadn’t won, we’d be slaves of Great Britain!!”

I made a scared face with the dots on the exlcamation points. I didn’t want to be Great Britain’s slave. Happy Independence Day. LOL

13. A weird little piece of flash fiction:

November 30, 1999:

“One day, Dan Latchmen, the detective, was trying to solve a mystery.

‘There isn’t any clues to this murder,’ he said.

But when he asked a nearby neighbor, he received some information.

‘I saw strange shadows,’ said the neighbor. ‘It looked as if one person threw a bunch of knives at the other person.’

‘Well, do you know who the murderer is or who he is?’ said Dan.

‘Mommy says I shouldn’t talk to strangers,’ said the neighbor.

???The?End???”

I laughed really hard just now while typing this out. Detective Latchmen was on to something there.

14/15: My ‘best dream’ and an unusual pet.

January 4, 2000 (I wrote ‘1999’ out of habit):

“My best dream is when I’m flying with the birds over New York City. I can see everything! A plane passes by. A person inside waves to me. Then I hang on as tight as possible and hitch a ride to Hong Kong!!”

I totally love this. I completely forgot that back then I had dreams of flying on the backs of birds. I’ve had lucid dreams in recent years where I fly like Superman and it is the most amazing feeling. It’s really cool to see that this dream in particular was what I considered to be my ‘best dream’ over 14 years ago. A certain friend of mine would appreciate the reference to Hong Kong ;).

January 5, 2000:

“An unusual pet is an invisible dog.”

I’m not sure if I just didn’t feel like writing much at the moment or if I was just being a smart ass here. Probably a mix of both.

16. “I, Ruben Muniz, have a dream . . .”

January 19, 2000:

“I, Ruben Muniz, have a dream that there will be no more violence on Earth at all. Every gun, rifle or bazooka will be thrown away. Anyone who tries to harm anyone else will be put in jail for 2 years or will pay a fine of $5,000.”

We did a writing exercise around the time of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day in which we wrote our own versions of ‘I Have A Dream’. Mine started off with a great topic sentence, but my details on how to achieve world peace may have been a bit off. I don’t know if 2 year prison terms and $5,000 fines would stop violence worldwide, but those damn bazookas have got to go!

17. Me definitely being a smart ass:

February 4, 2000:

“I think we have rules to break them! Just kidding. I really think we have rules because we wouldn’t be sybalized [civilized*]. If there’d be no rules life would be wild and dangerous.”

In the fourth grade I was a top student in terms of academic grades but had one of the worst sets of conduct grades. This was probably around the time I got my report card with A’s down the line in every academic subject with a bunch of C’s and D’s right next to them in the conduct grade chart. I was venting, but I think had just gotten grounded for bad behavior grades even though I had a 90something average.

Could you really blame me?

18. ‘Crazy things’ on Valentine’s Day:

February 14, 2000:

“It’s Valentine’s Day, and crazy things are happening. A kindergardener gave me a valentine, my friend brought his crush a rose, and two other boys are betting who can get a girl first!! Doesn’t love make ya do some stupid things? I think so!”

Lmao. Wise words about love.

19. “What did you learn in the fourth grade?”

June 14, 2000:

“Some things I’ve learned is that you must believe in yourself. You have to give it your all every time and if you fail, try until you succeed.”

This was part of my last and favorite entry in my 4th grade journal. This one left me speechless for all the right reasons. I would say ‘I couldn’t have said it better myself,’ but, yeah.

It was such a humbling experience coming across writings of mine from such a long time ago. Reading through the whole thing and writing this article really reassured me that throughout all my life’s changes, I’m still the same kid at heart. – RSM

June 19, 2014

The Effects Of ‘Bandwagon Negativity’ On Celebrities

‘Bandwagon negativity’ is a phrase I use to describe when a ‘monkey see, monkey do’ attitude arises when anyone is being treated unfairly. For example, a kid in school gets picked on and the rest of his or her classmates follow suit. There are different words to describe people who do this, be it ‘critics’, ‘naysayers’, ‘bullies’, ‘haters’, etc. No one is perfect and at points in my life I have been guilty of this myself, as probably you have too. In a world where open mindedness and universal acceptance is on the rise in popular culture, there should be no place for bandwagon negativity anymore. Unfortunately this is not the case at all, especially when it comes to celebrities.

For generations over we have seen this happen in many avenues of life. Despite the world making great strides from the mid-Twentieth century to the present day in terms of inclusiveness there are still no scruples when it comes to berating public figures. Granted, there are celebrities out there that are not angels and end up doing things that make them unfavorable to the public. No matter how reckless or outrageous a celebrity gets, I feel like it is not my place as an individual to throw shame on anyone, especially someone who I have never even seen outside of the internet, TV and movies.

It goes without saying that not everyone shares this sentiment. One of the main quotes I live by is “To each their own,” because I know with the way I live my life if I ever happen to become a known public figure the same criticisms and judgments would be thrown my way as well.

It is for this reason I feel that celebrities who are constantly in the public eye often wish they were not. Some public figures become so popular that it has negative effects on their lives to the point of terrible tragedy.

princess diana — Princess Diana was no stranger to paparazzi, sadly even in her last moments.

Diana, Princess of Wales was killed in Paris in a car crash in 1997 trying to flee a paparazzi crew after constant media scrutiny during her marriage to Prince Charles and even more so after their divorce.

Michael Jackson was in the public eye since early childhood until his untimely death.

Michael Jackson died of a heart attack via a prescription drug overdose in 2009. He spent his entire life in the public eye as both one of the world’s most influential musicians as well as one of the most constantly and heavily harrassed celebrities of all time.

john lennon yoko ono — John Lennon and Yoko Ono were advocates for peace until Lennon’s death in 1980.

John Lennon was killed outside of his home in New York City by a deranged gunman in 1980. After making his mark on the world with The Beatles and with his solo career he was criticized heavily for marrying Yoko Ono, who the media openly referred to as ‘an ugly woman’. He and Yoko Ono faced numerous threats of deportation from the United States while speaking out against the Vietnam War with songs like ‘Imagine’ and ‘Give Peace A Chance’.

These are a few 20th century examples that the world should have learned from, but didn’t.

Britney Spears spontaneously walked into a hair salon in 2007 and shaved her head while having an emotional breakdown, which of course was caught on camera. This gave way to a tabloid media explosion. Since then she has been under a conservatorship.

amanda-bynes-normal — Amanda Bynes was hospitalized after a series of provocative tweets documenting wild parties as well as brushes with the law.

Former Nickelodeon child star Amanda Bynes was on a Twitter-amplified drug binge which involved several brushes with the law and resulted in an involuntary admittance into a psychiatric hospital.

justin-bieber-2 — Justin Bieber is the one of the world’s youngest megastars, which comes with as much negativity as it does fandom.

Justin Bieber has been loved and hated throughout the world since his music career started as a teenager. His video of the song ‘Baby’ featuring Ludacris is one of the most viewed YouTube videos of all time. It is also #1 all time in dislikes. He has been criticized for his ‘boy next door’ image as a young teen as well as his androgynous looks, and is now criticized even more for recent arrests, tattoos, his past relationship with Selena Gomez, and also for growing up in the suburbs of Canada with the vernacular of a hip hop artist. Let the kid breathe.

This trend is not a new thing and probably will continue throughout human history, which kinda sucks if you think about it. Success comes in many different forms as do setbacks and as a result it is no one’s place to judge anyone else, period. Why should anyone point fingers and try to tell someone else how to live? Raising children is a different story, with the intention of course to lead children to make good decisions for themselves. When it comes to celebrities, however, especially in terms of Hollywood gossip, tabloid newspapers, paparazzi crews and the like, there is no place for that in a supportive and open minded world. I have my own favorite celebrities just like anyone else, but they are not on some kind of holier-than-thou pedestal in my mind and should not be held to a higher standard than anyone else.

Suum cuique pulchrum est. I would rather see this Latin phrase Googled more than Katy Perry’s most recent ‘provocative’ outfit, but that’s just my opinion. – RSM

June 12, 2014

September 11, 2001 Revisited via The 9/11 Memorial Museum

A few weeks ago I went with my father to the 9/11 Memorial Museum at the base of the ‘Freedom Tower,’ the nickname given to the new colossal building at 1 World Trade Center.

It was a more bitter than sweet experience, which of course comes with the territory and history of that tragic day. Everyone who was in New York City on September 11, 2001 has a story to tell, whether they had lost a family member or friend or not. Most stories involve unexpected tragedy at a very unfortunate level. Luckily for me and my family, no one was hurt. I will forever be grateful for that. As for my friends at the time, we were mostly 6th graders in the same school, so it goes without saying we were safe. My uncle had a close call, but a personality trait of his ironically turned what could have been the end of his life into just enough time to get outta Dodge. Here are the details:

My uncle was working nearby the Twin Towers in 2001. He was running late for work that day. I wasn’t surprised to hear this considering he runs late to family gatherings and it has become a running joke that he’s never on time. On 9/11 my uncle walked out of the subway and to his surprise there were hundreds of people, everyone from Wall Street suit looking types to delivery boys running full speed uptown. My uncle was born and raised in the South Bronx and told me he knew from his childhood to run with a big crowd and not against it, because it usually means they’re running from a dangerous situation. He took off with the herd of New Yorkers fleeing lower Manhattan before he even saw or knew what had happened to the towers. He ran for dozens of blocks, and turned on the jets when he saw the flaming North and South towers at a distance. His street smarts and tardiness may have made the difference between life and death on Septmeber 11, 2001.

twin-towers-on-fire — The North and South Tower’s last moments standing.

My experience was far less life-threatening than that of my uncle, but of course was not void of shock and awe. Around 9 in the morning my school’s principal announced that there had been a terrorist attack on the World Trade Center via hijacked planes being used as missiles to strike the dual skyscrapers. I remember in my 11 short years thus far I had always called those buildings ‘The Twin Towers,’ and didn’t know they were officially referred to as ‘The World Trade Center’ until that moment. The principal ended his emergency address and after 15-20 minutes of teachers going in and out of the hallways to sort out logistics, another announcement came. The principal then announced that one tower had collapsed, and the other was in flames and on the verge of collapsing. He also announced that the entire student body would be sent home shortly.

I could only imagine how many calls the secretary had to make in the main office, but within half an hour most students had been picked up by a parent or guardian. My mother is a teacher and couldn’t pick us up since her school was following the same protocol with their own students, and my father was on his way to Ground Zero, another new term I learned that day, to aid in sorting through the wreckage as an emergency responder with Con Edison. Since they were busy at work my best friend’s mother picked him and I up as well as his older sister who was in the 8th grade, and stopped by my sister’s high school to pick her up as well. From there, we had a chilled out afternoon at my friend David’s house. The boys played football, the girls watched soap operas and eventually all of us, along with the city and the world were glued to their TVs waiting to see what would unfold un the aftermath of this unprecedented event.

The "Tribute in Light" memorial in the years following 2001. — The “Tribute in Light” memorial in the years following 2001.

Last month the 9/11 Memorial Museum opened up exclusively to first responders. Falling into this category was my dad, who spent weeks as a Con Edison emergency responder at Ground Zero in the Fall of 2001. He invited me to come as his guest.

The mood was very somber within the walls of the new museum. Contained in the sleek walls and shiny new facilities were heavy hearts and teary eyes. One of the things that resonated with me was a pillar with quotations projected onto it that were accompained with voices narrating each one as they were displayed. A barrage of reactions on the day were brought to life, some as simple as “Oh my God!” to news briefs describing the day.

Another interesting piece I saw was a charred and twisted cylinder of metal, about 15 feet long with a 12 foot diameter more or less. I looked at the sign accompanying the display and was taken aback to learn that this hunk of steel was small part of the antaenna from one of the fallen towers.

They had a charred ambulance on display as well as about 3/4 of what was left of a firetruck pulled from the wreckage. I honestly did not meditate too long on these two emergency vehicles, because quite frankly, it was way too heartbreaking.

My 2nd favorite part of the day at museum was a room lined with a smiling portrait of every single victim of the attacks. This was room was more sweet than bitter for me. I’m sure if I had directly known one of the 2,900+ faces smiling at me I would not have been able to look around the room with such a positive attitude, but I felt it was a nice touch to show each and every lost life in their Sunday best, smiling.

So many people die of tragedies on a daily basis around the world. It’s nothing new. I did think to myself though that in recent times of emergency in New York City that I have lived through, be it 9/11, The 2003 Blackout, or Hurricane Sandy in 2012, New Yorkers have a talent for coming together in times of need, regardless of any other issue. We have a reputation that precedes us to be fast-talking, tough as nails and often rude city slickers, but when our own streets and neighbors need a hand, New Yorkers are there for each other. With solidarity and reverence in mind it truly warmed my heart to see all the faces of these bright young professionals, building maintenance workers, and especially New York’s Finest and Bravest honored in such a way. I’m not one to usually give compliments to the NYPD, but I will say that every single illuminated face I saw in that room will forever be heroes in my mind.

I thought to myself that of all the tragic events in human history, this one was the most recent one that had affected not so much my life as an individual, but most definitely affected the great megacity where I have always lived and where my heart will always reside. It was nice to see the tradition of New Yorkers coming together and honoring and remembering their fallen sons, daughters, fathers and mothers. I only wish that whatever tragedy may occur anywhere in the future, somewhere there are photos of whoever’s lives were cut short and that they are shown, being happy.

My favorite thing I saw that day was not really a thing, it was a person. My dad, duh! He invited me to the museum with the thought in mind that I would write this article. Although my uncle was the one who had to run for his life, and I am eternally grateful that he came out unscathed, my dad thought of inviting me to the 9/11 Memorial Museum to do what he always has done: to inspire me to write. With this in mind, I only have one picture to display from my trip there. It’s this one:

As my born and bred Bronxite fingers tap the ending remarks of this article, I find myself wiping tears off my cheeks and ultimately, being grateful.

My dad could have gotten really sick like many others in the years following his work at Ground Zero, but’s he’s as healthy as a suave-looking 56 year old man can be.

My uncle put his son, my cousin and basically my twin, Jason through high school and college, the same high school and college that I attended. My cousin and I graduated together in 2008 and 2012, and are now advancing in our respective careers. My uncle also got married since then and now has a 2nd child, a beautiful little girl, my cousin Layla. None of this may have happened if he had been on time to work that day.

All in all, I like the name ‘Freedom Tower’ for different reasons than most. If you take a close look at it, the new building at 1 World Trade Center kind of looks like a phoenix-esque combination of the Twin Towers into a brand new, 21st century reincarnation of it’s fallen predecessors.

The way I see it, whenever I look towards lower Manhattan I don’t just see the tallest building in the United States, nor do I see just another Manhattan skyscraper. I see everyone who I saw smiling in the museum who had passed on in the attacks of September 11, 2001. I see New York City reflected in all its posh splendor, it’s dreamy mystique, it’s gritty, hardworking everyday people and everything in between, from Staten Island to my home borough, The Bronx. I see everyone I have ever known or walked by in my life throughout the streets and avenues who survived and now live to tell about their experience that day. New Yorkers, just like me.

When I see the Freedom Tower, I see my family. I see my uncle, who had the biggest brush with danger, and my dad, who brought back his Con Edison helmet to my mom a few days after 9/11 with Bill Clinton’s autograph, as part of a running joke they had about my mom having a crush on the former president. Most of all when I see the Freedom Tower I think about myself, my own life. I think about all the ups and downs, thicks and thins I have been through and how grateful I am that my family and friends made it safely through the events of September 11, 2001. When I look at the Freedom Tower and think of all this, I feel free. I feel free, to worry about my everyday life, my career in music and writing, my family and friends, and I feel free to not worry about someone I had lost that day anymore than the occasional ‘What if?’ Most of all, I feel free to live. Not many people feel this unique freedom I feel when they look at the same building.

In all its infamously tragic events and all that followed as a result, September 11, 2001 will forever live in my mind as the ultimate day of grattiude for all the things I have in my life. I think of all that I have and how close things had come that day to having many of them taken away. When I’m feeling down, all I have to do is look up; it puts me back in a place where I always love to be: a New York state of mind. – RSM

May 14, 2014June 18, 2014

Racial Ambiguity: Caught in the Middle of Gentrification in New York City

The changing demographics of neighborhoods in New York City is nothing new. The Bronx, my home borough, was originally home to Native Americans, then the Dutch, the British, Irish, Italian, and Jewish diasporas long before it is as today, with Latinos as the slight majority. Oddly enough, there are times when I’m on my home street and I can’t help but feel like an outsider. Allow me to explain:

I live in Wakefield, a primarily African American and West Indian neighborhood. I have lived here since I was 3, with the exception of my years in college. Looking back on my life, my friends, neighbors, and family as well have always been very diverse. I went to elementary school a few neighborhoods over in the Bedford Park area of The Bronx, a neighborhood far more diverse than my own. I grew up unassuming, open minded, and figuratively colorblind.

In retrospect, I feel like it took me a while to grasp the idea of ‘race’ and different ‘races’ of humans. I just didn’t see it that way. Seeing that my friends’ ancestries vary tremendously and some people in my family are of mixed races, I just didn’t take much heed as a child. I still don’t take that much heed at all nowadays….

My best friends and family on my birthday. — My best friends and family on my 24th birthday.

….EXCEPT when the topic of gentrification arises. I feel like I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. When I walk through Williamsburg, Bushwick, or Downtown Brooklyn it’s almost as if there’s not humidity, but tension in the air. I can feel it lingering around every train station, bike rack, street corner, and every other public place where Native Brooklynites now co-exist and share public space with out of state, 20-something transplants, or ‘Hipsters,’ if you will. I feel that same tension pressing on my lightly tanned skin, dyed blonde hair, and casual/rocker style of dress as I walk through certain neighborhoods.

I’m a Latino who can pass as Caucasian, or even Pacific Islander depending on who’s guessing. It’s great to look racially ambiguous when you’re talking to a pretty young lady at a bar in WIlliamsburg, but once you leave that bar you become a hipster to the natives of the neighborhood, and a questionable figure to cops, wondering why they see some surfer-looking whiteboy strolling through the ghetto.

About 2 months ago I was headed down White Plains Road, the main avenue of my neighborhood and also the closest shopping district to my apartment. It makes sense that I would go down this street for an innocent afternoon of commerce, right?

Well, it didn’t make sense to the cops who saw me chatting with a tattoo artist outside of his shop.

They parked their patrol car, approached me and asked me “What are you doing around here?”

Kinda like they didn’t think I belonged in the neighborhood I have always lived in.

I told the 1st police officer that I had always lived around here while the 2nd proceeded to stop and frisk me.

He felt up my bookbag, which contained nothing but my netbook, a book I was reading and a few ‘Living Buddhism’ magazines.

“Whoa, you got a heavy bag,” said one of them, “You got a gun in here or something?”

So there I was, not even half a mile from my house, being questioned for being in my own neighborhood. I didn’t know whether to be confused or enraged. I was a mix of both, but I held my tongue. I knew better than to make the cops feel as stupid and racist as they were actually being, and I knew if I had said anything back to them things could have gone much worse.

After a few more patdowns and another “What are you doing around here?” they realized that I wasn’t exactly Tony Montana, and let me go.

This was a rude awakening to me. I never did mind growing up my whole life as a Latino in a mainly black neighborhood. I actually liked it very much, as well as the Bronx and New York City in general. I do find it alarming, however, that upon first glance nowadays I may be viewed as a neighborhood invader to my own block and as a result being on the NYPD’s radar. I usually get along with everyone I see; my friendliness and the reciprocation of such from most people I meet have allowed me to keep my inner-child’s eyes figuratively colorblind. As a child and adolescent I had always felt that I fit in everywhere. With gentrification on the rise in many minority neighborhoods in New York City, coming from a neighborhood that I’m the minority as a Latino has never mattered to me until recent years, and especially since the cops breathe down my neck as a result. Sometimes I feel like my notion that I fit in everywhere is a naive illusion; when I see an organic grocery store next to a bodega, I still feel like I could fit in at either place. There are times, however, when I feel like I don’t fit in anywhere, especially when I see a police cruiser around. -RSM

I was inspired to write this article by When Gentrification Brings Racism to the ‘Hood by Irvin Weathersby, via ebony.com.

April 24, 2014April 26, 2014

Why I’m Proud Of Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor

When I was a junior in college, I attended a Greek Life workshop with a few fraternity brothers of mine as well as representatives from every other Greek lettered organization on campus. It was an interesting workshop; there were large photos of famous, groundbreaking leaders from many different but equally important walks of life. The workshop facilitator, a middle aged, upbeat motivational speaker kind of guy, asked all undergrads in the room (about 50 of us, at least) to go around the room and write down comments about each of these leaders of their professions. After about 15 minutes, the workshop host then asked students to volunteer to pick a leader, say what they knew about this leader, read off the comments anonymously written by people in the room, and say whether you agreed or disagreed with said comments.

During the first phase of the workshop I immediately spotted Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor. I wrote a few positive comments on the posterboard next to her photo, and went on to Bill Gates’ posterboard, that of Oprah Winfrey, etc. During the second phase, I gravitated back to Justice Sotomayor’s photo and read the comments attributed to her. There were some positive comments, including my own, but they were outnumbered by many negative comments about her. She had recently been appointed to her position as Supreme Court Justice and her name and image had been circulating in the news, mostly via smear campaigns in order to sabotage her appointment as a Supreme Court Justice. Sadly, many students believed what they had heard on the news about her, and as a result posted comments like “Underqualified” and “Too Liberal” on her comment section. Most, if not all of these comments were short, vague, and ultimately baseless and void of any fact. She is one of my personal heroines, so I was not happy about this.

I volunteered to read off the comments and tell everyone what I knew about her. I let off some fumes as professionally as I could. Most of my classmates in the workshop were surprised to learn that not only did she go to my high school decades ago, but I had actually shook her hand myself at a career day event a few years back. More importantly, I took my time happily dismantling every negative comment that was attributed to her, tearing down every falsehood and half-truth with facts supported by evidence. My favorite part of my informative rant was when I took apart the ‘underqualified’ comment, refuting it with details about her education and how she had served on the U.S. Court of Appeals for quite some time before being nominated as a Supreme Court Justice, notably ruling on the 1994 Major League Baserball strike case. Ending my onslaught of corrections and highlights of Sotomayor’s career, I put the nail in the coffin with a personal challenge and said: “And if anyone who wrote these false comments or anyone who disagrees with me would like to prove me wrong at all, I invite you to try.” No one took me up on it.

Justice Sotomayor has been in the news recently for expressing her dissent on the ruling regarding Michigan’s affirmative action policy. The ruling upheld that affirmative action, currently banned in Michigan, could be successfully defended and remain banned by decision of a popular vote. The logic is a bit wishy washy, considering that affirmative action is designed to try and level the playing field for underpriveleged college hopefuls who are mostly minorities. Now, does it really make sense to leave this decision in the hands of a popular vote when the decision would be based on the majority vote, when those who would be most directly and negatively affected are minorities? This decision will potentially threaten affirmative action policies of other states, which is sure to have been a factor in determining the future of many lesser fortunate and/or minority students who would otherwise not be able to afford or even be given a chance at higher education due to economic or other social or circumstantial issues. If all goes horribly, affirmative action may be repealed in more homogenous, conservative states (where it is actually needed most) and will shut the door of a quality higher education experience on the next generation of high school grads. When you factor in the rate of arrests and imprisonment for petty crimes amongst black and brown teenagers, the perpetually dilapitated condition of inner city schools, and how both of these factors tie into the prison-industrial complex, the odds for more impoverished teens of getting into college are grim, specifically those in inner-city neighborhoods across the U.S.

This is especially disheartening to know as it stands, even with affirmative action in place. To eliminate affirmative action in college admissions offices would kind of be like running a basketball shot game at a carnival, giving the one kid with the worst shot an extra ball, and then taking it away just because you changed your mind. Picture that, but with the educational aspirations of kids who have been through some shit, and want a better life.

All in all I commend Justice Sotomayor for expressing her dissent. Given the fact that she is a minority from an impoverished area and had excellent grades as an adolescent and young adult, affirmative action may very well have played a factor in her education, as it probably did for my education, and many of my friends and family members. Quite contrary to conservative responses on her dissent, I feel that if she didn’t express her dissent for this decision she would be doing all potential college students a disservice. In a world where college tuition and debt is through the roof, the only worse fate than having a degree with no guarantee of finding the means to repay student loans and finding a job is the fate of not even having a fighting chance of getting into a good school after high school. Let’s face it, Generation Y is damned either way, but at least let us have an equal chance to be damned with an education under our belts than without. -RSM

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