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By Root 895 0

who weren’t as fortunate as I was, would always laugh and joke around about what happened to them the night before. “You are so lucky you didn’t have to go last night,” one of the pledges said. “We had to play a game called Jingle Balls. Well, the most popular senior guys were standing in front of us…” Then they went on to tell me how all the guys were screaming at them and telling them what to do. They said the guys had their balls out of their pants and the pledges had to kneel in front of them and sing. They told me how they had to sit on guys’ laps, sing to them, and even kiss them. At the time, I thought, “That sucks!” but it didn’t affect me because I was at home. But what none of us realized was how demeaning and degrading this actually was. Unfortunately, it was the price we were willing to pay to be popular.

Now that I’m so-called “popular” I stood in shock listening to the young girls sing “Jingle balls, jingle balls, Jingle all the way…” I couldn’t believe it! I watched the pledges on their knees, inches away from the guys standing in front of them with their balls out of their pants. The freshmen girls were singing this song, in disgust, as the high school participants crowded around to watch. After a couple of minutes, the males were getting frustrated. I didn’t know why at first until I heard, “The fucking bitches are closing their eyes. Make them open their eyes!” The senior girls disregarded their comments and continued watching. When they went through this ceremony four years ago, the males were allowed to wipe their balls on the pledges’ faces, but this year the girls were spared this. The irony being that the seniors thought they were actually saving the girls from being too exploited. Slowly everyone lost interest and this game ended, but the hazing still continued…

As I watched the people participate in hazing, I suddenly realized how unnecessary all of this was. I couldn’t understand why these freshmen were putting themselves through this torture just to be “popular.” And yet, I was an active member of this sorority and I was allowing all of these awful things to happen to them. Why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t I do anything? Being a Freedom Writer, I couldn’t understand how I just stood by and let all of this go on. I wish I had spoken up and told them how unnecessary all of this really is. Suddenly, I realized that “popularity” was just a word and has no meaning in real life! At that point, I knew I didn’t want to be a part of this group or any group that degraded or humiliated people like that ever again. But I guess popularity always has and always will take its toll on people.

Diary 112

Dear Diary,

It’s Christmas time 1997, and I’m really excited about getting together with my dad. Every moment I’m with him, I realize how important he is to me and how lucky I am to have him. I understand that there are people out there who don’t even know their fathers, and I cherish every moment spent with him.

This makes me think of the time that I almost lost my dad.

“Sean, what happened? Who is that on the phone?” I couldn’t hear what my brother was telling my mom, but right after he spoke to her and handed her the telephone, she walked to her room and closed the door behind her.

I was thinking about what could be bothering my mom when she interrupted my thoughts and slowly began to talk to me. “Teres, I have to tell you something and when I do, baby please try to stay calm. The phone call I received was from the hospital. They called to inform me that your dad has been shot. He was shot in the head and is now in critical condition. I am so sorry, baby.” I couldn’t breathe after she told me this. The pain that my stomach was feeling when my mom began to tell me had now traveled up through my chest, into my throat, and took a seat right in my head. I didn’t know what to think, what to do, or what to say. I thought I was going to die because of the lack of oxygen my body was receiving. I began to cry so loud that I would have thought everyone around would have heard me at that moment. What else