The Stories That Brought Us Here
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Fall Semester 2015 thecollegiatelive.com The Stories THE STORIES THAT That Brought BROUGHT US HERE Us Here Features Blindfolded Tangled How Almost Dying 02 14 24 Restored My Will to Live Standing Out Moving Forward Finding 06 For Others 17 28 Her Place On the Court, Broken: Extra Innings 09 Off the Streets 18 The Reluctant Caregiver 31 A Timeless Gift Taking the Time A Sister’s Love 12 20 to Bloom 34 A Different Take 35 on Asperger’s 36 Growing Up PREVENTION Fast 40 Table for One, IS PLANNED PARENTHOOD Please DIY scene presents 42 house shows 44 It’s Never Too Late Grandma’s Text PREVENTION to 51555 for 10 FREE CONDOMS 48 Secret Recipe Visit PLANNED PARENTHOOD in Grand Rapids near campus, or in Wyoming. (844) 316-4055 • ppwnm.org Letter from the Editor Dear Readers, Wow, what a semester it has been. Your school. Your source. Your story. Each semester The Collegiate magazine becomes the most built up collection of work, where our staff writes some of their best pieces. I believe that The Collegiate Vol. 4, No. 1 Fall Semester 2015 magazine purely exists to give people a voice, whether they be the one behind the Kayla Tucker Chris Powers pen, or the one being interviewed. Editor-in-Chief Web Editor When we first began to discuss the magazine, we knew we wanted to give a voice to Layout Editor students. In the past we’ve had a variety of stories, from profiles, to how-to articles, Zach Watkins John Rothwell to personal narratives. We told reporters they could write virtually anything that Sports Editor Photo Editor would speak to our audience, but the theme seemed to be moving in the direction of life stories. Sean P. Mulhall Savannah Miles Copy Editor Advertising Manager One night, in a conversation with my adviser, I told her it sounded like all of these stories we were hearing about fit under the same theme, “the stories that brought Jennifer Ackerman-Haywood us here.” She said she had chills as I said those words and immediately we knew we Collegiate Adviser were on to something. Last month, our staff set up two signs down in Winchester Alley, asking students big questions like, “What defining moment changed your life?” and “What experience On the cover made you who you are?” Students responded well, but over the course of the next The Stories That couple weeks, our own staff started to quietly trickle into the back office, privately Brought Us Here revealing their life stories to our adviser, and sometimes myself. It was becoming Photo by John Rothwell much clearer that this magazine was going to be one of the hardest ones to edit, and the heaviest one to publish. I really wish I could give all of you a box of tissues before you turn the page. These stories are amazing, and very well written, but they will definitely tug at your heart- strings. I know I can speak for all the editors here at The Collegiate in saying that I am so proud of all the people in this magazine, who have told stories that aren’t easy to tell. I know they will impact you, and I hope that after reading this magazine, you will see - like we all did - that each of us has a story. We are all walking down different paths, leading us to where we need to end up. So, next time you are faced with a situation where you are quick to judge, just re- member that we had a classroom full of people who wrote stories all semester with The Collegiate Magazine us and we had no idea what they struggled with privately. We did not question them is a student publication on the hardest things they ever went through, they just began to write. They used the of Grand Rapids power of the pen. Community College I hope you are humbled and inspired by these stories, just as I was. 143 Bostwick Ave. Grand Rapids, MI 49503 We welcome any feedback. Please contact us at [email protected] or through Room 339, Main social media. [email protected] Phone: (616) 234-4157 www.TheCollegiateLive.com GRCC.Collegiate GRCCCollegiate Kayla Tucker Editor-in-Chief @GRCC_Collegiate @thecollegiate [email protected] Photo by John Rothwell often like to believe that I entered anxiety. Stopping in the office, I received conversation but she was too busy on the world blindfolded, gracing the a schedule and a late pass and headed her phone to maintain it so I finished my delivery room in silence because to class. English was my first hour and I food in silence and headed to class. Ifor the first time ever life had given couldn’t be more thrilled as writing was “Hey, wait up,” the girl said, whose me no reason to cry. Perhaps that is my favorite thing to do. I quickly opened name I now know as Margarita. “Are you why infancy is so beautiful, because it the door and stumbled into the room. any good at sports?” is the only moment in a person’s lifetime It had appeared everyone had finished I wanted to say yes, but the volley- where pain is only skin deep, failure is their general introductions so I greeted ball coach from summer tryouts made nonexistent, and happiness is inevitable. the classroom of unfamiliar faces and me believe otherwise. Growing up, failure was my biggest took my seat. “Not really,” I said. fear. It was the only thing I thought life As the day went on, the same routine She seemed to have a look of disap- could throw at me that my mother’s continued. Introduction, syllabus, and pointment on her face as she responded, arms could not shield me from. For classroom requirements, and then “Oh, okay, nevermind, see you in class.” years I strived to be the best at every- came lunch. As I entered the cafeteria “Well, there goes my first friend,” thing, from elementary school quiz-offs, I was instantly in awe. There were four I thought, and I was right. That was to middle school track meets. I wanted lines to get food, and each line served the longest conversation her and I had to win it all, and I did. Then high school something different. Smiling from ear to ever held. That is of course until two came around, and as to be expected it ear, I headed for the first line I saw, and months later when I became the topic of challenged the validity of everything I the aroma hit my nose almost instantly. everyone’s conversation, the highlight of thought to be true. For the first time in It was my favorite, pineapple and ham everyone’s morning television, and the my life I knew no one, I was rejected pizza. I quickly scooped it onto my coolest person in the lunchroom. from all my favorite sports teams, and I September and October came and couldn’t win a quiz-off against Lindsey went, and I found myself getting used to Ferris if I tried. Afraid to face my own the high school routine. I was maintain- defeat, I continued trying and study- “I didn’t know it ing straight As in all my classes, and ing until finally success landed on my I had managed to make a few friends doorstep. I wish I could tell you things was possible to feel during the late afternoons at school from that point on went perfect, but they alone in a room full spent waiting for the bus to arrive. Over- didn’t. On Nov. 2, 2011, somewhere be- all things had changed since my first day tween Rogers High School and Oakland of people until that at school. I was fitting in and, man, did it Avenue my blindfold had been ripped off feel great. As the days flew by I realized and at the simple age of 14 years old, life very moment.” I wasn’t the only one excited about my had revealed itself to me in its darkest newfound progress. My algebra teacher form. Ms. See was so pleased with my grades It was that time of year, the trees plate and raced to find a seat, only to be she recommended I join Rogers High were just beginning to sway to the greeted with another one of life’s harsh School’s newest program for freshman, melody of the autumn wind. The sky had realities. Loneliness. I didn’t know it was Middle College, a five-year program that once again lost its vibrant, lively appeal, possible to feel alone in a room full of allowed young pupils like myself the op- and was now a dark, eerie shade of gray. people until that very moment. portunity to earn a high school diploma, The leaves, now scarlet red, had leaped I scanned the room for at least one 60 transferable college credits, and an off their branches and drifted onto the familiar face. Out of luck, I took a seat associate’s degree from Grand Rapids pavement, crumbling beneath my rugged and began eating. After the first bite, I Community College for no cost at all. It Nike sneakers as I raced to the bus stop felt a light tap on my shoulder. was the opportunity of a lifetime and, on my way to school. Freshman year “Can I sit with you?” she asked. It trust me, I read all about it. The letter had finally arrived and after having gone was a girl from my English class and I came in the mail in late September.