Nude by David Hockney (1957)

Midnight once again, and it always ends with me wiping away my tears. I am one day closer to death, but one day closer to finding you. I don’t know which I’m more terrified of facing. 24 years. 8, 760 days of excruciating longing, and as each day turns into night I can’t help but wonder. Where are you? What are you doing at this exact moment? The moon reminds me that you’re out there, looking up at it and asking the exact same questions about me. No matter the distance, city, state, or continent, the moon is there for us. It always will be. Now is what matters. In my bed, I’m alone. My clothes are scattered on the floor, wishing yours could be too so that you could join me in what will soon be our bed. My body aches, longing for the touch that could fix every crack in my heart. Now, I am alone. The silence in my apartment chimes in to remind me, “You’re used to it.” Reflecting on past loves, or the lack thereof, only induces more tears. Jared, who lied to me for years. Kevin, the insensitive, self-obsessed alcoholic. And Evan. God, he couldn’t love me even if he tried. The child in me can still envision the “true love” that all of my friends seem to speak of. 1, 2, 3 year anniversaries whiz by, but each midnight is another midnight spent alone. A shiver runs through my body, and I feel the emptiness of my bed as I try effortlessly to find another heat source. The pillows provide comfort, but nothing would be as satisfying as a chest to lean my head on and an arm around me. Sunday mornings, sleeping in until noon enveloped in my partner’s arms, gently wakened by the birds and wishing that the day would never begin. The blankets are spacious and unfulfilling. I jerk up and haul them at the floor in a fit of rage, hoping that he will suddenly appear, and place them back around me. Not talking, not questioning, just understanding. Physical nudity does not phase me. These are just bodies. We all have them in varying shapes and sizes, each unique to ourselves. Physical nudity is our own. Emotional nudity exists together. Stripping yourself doing to the core of who you are, sharing it and giving someone else the power to say, “This is not enough for me,” is the most frightening thought that could ever cross a mind. Bare. Stripped bare beneath all the layers, there is so much of me that I have to show you…if we could only meet already. What will you be like? And how long will it be before we finally meet one another? I close my eyes in an attempt to finally sleep, but am left pondering your name, your face, and personality. Moments before success, one final thought pops into my head. Loving you is going to be the most fascinating and heart-breaking thing for me.

Poetry Photo Piece

Stream-of-Consciousness...What Does Being a Man Mean?

1500 Words, I tried to cut down, but I got too passionate!
As with most people that constitute the "majority" of a given characteristic, I don't really ever think about the fact that I am a man. I put majority in quotations because I am not even sure whether or not there are more men than women in the world, but because society is dominated by males it is natural for men to think that they are the majority, and for lack of better wording, normal. I suppose a better word than normal is desired, because when one looks to the job market, the television, even the White House, our entire society is dominated by men. Specifically straight, white, cisgender men. Because of the opportunities that are available to me since I am male (or rather, the opportunities that are not taken away from me because I am a female), it is extremely easy to forget that I am a male. I took a class last semester called Introduction to Individual & Cultural Diversity in the Classroom, where we discussed any and all differences that can exist among children's lives that affect their opportunities and education: gender, sexuality, religion, socio-economic background, ethnicity, disabilities, and more. One of the stories that affected my way of thinking was when we had a woman in the class state that when she walked alone late at night, her mother had taught her to always hold her keys in-between her fingers, so that if a male attacker was to approach her, she was already armed and ready to defend herself. After I then told the class that there were many times where I walked home late at night when I lived on campus while wearing headphones in both ears, she was shocked. Several other women in the class stated that they had to always be aware of their surroundings, and that they, too had self-defense techniques ready when they walked home at night. It was at this moment that I realized that their gender was much more prominent to them than my gender was to me. As discussed in class, maybe this is because there are so many facets of life where they are constantly reminded they are female through the lack of representation that they see on television or in movies. Especially now, because I have a 10 month old little sister, I am trying to open my eyes more and more into the ways that society does not equally treat men and women. I feel that I am more "woke" than the average male regarding issues surrounding feminism, how women are payed less than their male counterparts for the same position, and are often looked at as the more submissive of the two in a marriage. I also find myself chuckling to myself at the sheer stupidity that presents itself when a man says that they aren't a feminist, because he believes that feminism means that women are better than men. Ignorance is a difficult topic to navigate in conversation...how do you politely tell a man that you believe he is the epitome of ignorance because he has closed himself off to any opinion other than the one's that his frat brothers are telling him? Of course, this is not always the case but there are several instances where an Alpha Male just cannot listen to an opinion other than his own, once again probably because society has reinforced his view that men are more "deserving" of women in so many facets of life that they should receive more pay, better opportunities, and less discrimination. This ties into the whole "Boys Will Be Boys" bullshit that is actual garbage. How about "Boys Will Be Held Accountable For Their Actions?" That sounds much better. I digress...nonetheless, being a male is something that I am only really aware of when I think about just how much the patriarchy exists, and that if I was a woman, my life would be completely different. For most women, they wear their womanhood proudly on their sleeve, as they should, and are actively fighting against the discrepancies that exist in today's world.
I don't consider being male anywhere near the forefront of my personality, and I think this may be because the frontrunner for my personality has had some clashing with the idea of typical manliness. While I in no way should, I sometimes am proud of myself when people don't know that I am gay instantly. Through the Culture & Diversity class, I discovered that I have a bit of internalized homophobia, in which I can be slightly homophobic to gay men that I meet for dressing a certain way, dying their hair, having numerous piercings or tattoos, and am actively working on that. The following statement is the truth: Most people who met me have agreed that they didn't know I was gay until they had a conversation with me. Some people say they know instantly, and others don't know until weeks into our friendship/relationship when I mention it, but most say that they know after a conversation with me. Perhaps it's because I subconsciously am aware of how there are some people who are unintentionally homophobic, and I do my best to not appear gay so that no opportunities will be stripped away from me. And, at times I catch myself trying to act "more straight" through my mannerisms or the lingo I use to try and communicate with a straight guy. When I'm asked if I'm gay, I always say yes. But, not every straight male I interact with has to know if I'm just casually interacting with them. So, unless necessary I try not to make a point of it.
Since I was raised by my father primarily after the divorce, my friends and I have speculated that this could be why I do not possess several more of the gay stereotypes than I already do now. It's interesting really, to think about how my father raising me could have affected my sexuality rather than my mother. My father always held me to a degree of manliness that I can still feel in myself today. Mowing the lawn, shoveling the snow, showing me how to take care of my car. He made sure to show man the things that a man does, and if he ever found out that I let my step-mother shovel the snow, I would surely be in hot water. Ladies don't shovel snow. Men do. He taught me a lot about being a man, the kinds of characteristics I should have, the way I should treat people, and I'm glad that he was able to do all of that with me. At the same time, it hurts a little that I can't talk about boys with him, or that once he told me he didn't want me to bring home any guy who was "too gay". I forgive him for his slight homophobia, because society has pushed these views upon us, and so late into life it can be hard to make ground on these issues. He supports me, he loves me, and he'll do anything for me. In the end, if I bring home a guy who is "too gay" for my father, well, he'll just have to get over it. That will be his problem, and not mine. Being a gay man is hard because the straight men sometimes feel that I am on a different planet than them, and at times I see the ways that straight men interact with each other (for example, a football locker room or on the field) and am subsequently disgusted. I don't resonate with these people. These men who talk about women as if they're objects, and only care about smoking weed and drinking, they are not my people. The difference in culture is quite astonishing. I see most of my gay friends and we greet each other with a hug (even the straight ones!), and we are never afraid to talk about our feelings or how our day is going, or even just break down crying to one another about our boy troubles. So...yes, I am a man. But there are so few things I associate with being a man, that it resides in the back of my mind until stories from my female friends surface about how uncomfortable they have felt while with a man alone in a private setting, or I see women sharing their stories of sexual abuse with one another. I do not identify with those disgusting men who cannot control themselves. Most times I barely identify as a man at all. Quite honestly, the only thing that reminds me of it on the daily is that I'm gay. If I didn't have a gender, I would just say that I like guys. But because I like guys and I am a guy, I'm gay. Being gay is the only reminder that I am a man.

Two Examples of Multimedia that I Love...

GIFs
Twitter is my favorite of all the social medias because I feel Instagram doesn't show an accurate depiction of someone's life, and Facebook is used in a professional setting for networking mostly. Twitter is the in-between of the two where people can speak their minds on a platform with a limited number of words to get straight to their point.
GIFs are another form of multimedia that I like because they are specific and pertaining to shared moments between groups of people such s best friends. The link above takes you to a GIF that can be related to many feelings, but when I think of this GIF I think of that "Friday Feeling" when you can relax for the weekend.

Intro to Nic Noa

Hey all,

Nic Noa here, hoping to make this obligatory introductory blog post somewhat captivating for you.  Even now as I write this, my first name is underlined with the evil that is the red squiggly line, reaffirming to me, as most people do when they see my name spelt out, that I have been spelling my name differently for me entire life. Before I begin, I feel compelled to share with you something about myself. I love to talk about myself. And frankly, I really don’t think that there’s anything wrong with that. How else are we supposed to better ourselves as people and grow unless we are constantly observing ourselves, our actions and interactions, and the very events that defined who we’ve become? Through conversation about myself, through journaling about my life and constantly reviewing and understanding where I’ve come from and who I am, I’m better equipped to understand my strengths and weaknesses, to conquer my fears and insecurities, and to allow my future self to flourish.

With that being said, I’ve chosen to zoom in on two simple characteristics of myself that have shaped a majority of my life. The first is that my parents are divorced. The second is that I’m gay. As I’ve gone through recent years of my life, I’ve come to understand that while many other people have divorced parents and are queer (which is the umbrella term for anything that is not cisgender or straight), these two characteristics have molded me into the person you met earlier on this week.

Being the child of a failed marriage is something that each person has to come to on their own. My parents divorced when I was five years old, and since I was so young my memories of my mother and father together are limited to fingers one a hand, and not every finger is used. I have a couple of photos, but almost my entire life my mother and father have been separate entities in my mind. As a child who was so young, I could never fully understand what it truly meant when “mom and dad no longer lived together”. It started off meaning that I had two of everything. Two bedrooms, two houses, two birthdays’, and two of every holiday. Once Dad got remarried, I had another mother figure in my life. She was only 13 years older than me, but nonetheless helped to raise me. My least favorite holiday, you ask? Mother’s Day. Like every other holiday, Mother’s Day was split between my mother and step-mother, ineffectively granting them both the opportunity to see me but preventing me from spending an adequate amount of time with either of them. My mother, unfortunately has not had the easiest life, and has not been a large part of mine due to her own personal issues. 

Once my Dad married my step-mother, she began to help him raise me and my sister.  From his second marriage resulted two of the most wonderful things that have ever happened to me: the birth of both of my younger siblings. Growing up, my older brother and sister were not the warmest siblings towards me. They, like my mother, had substance abuse issues and it destroyed most of their relationships. With the births of my younger two siblings, I put substantial time and energy into my relationship with them, as both of my relationships with my older siblings are virtually non-existent. Unfortunately, I was taught through my older siblings exactly not how to live through seeing their relationship with me vanish, and the possibility of it ever returning getting slimmer and slimmer with each passing day. My step-mother and Dad are very important to me as well, and I aspire to become like each of them in differing ways. Dad works 16 hour shifts most days, and Kotoe, my step-mother (I figured I should introduce her somewhere), has been chasing her passion of dance ever since high school and is a professional ballerina with the New Jersey Ballet. Each of them has instilled in me that perseverance pays off, and above all else it is determination that will grant someone success.

Upward and Onward. Pssst, I’m Gay, with a capital G, because it’s important to me. Now, I’m not going to assume (because we all know what happens when we do that...), but some straight folks are often very judgmental of queer people who use gay/bisexual/transgender as an adjective to describe themselves. Common quotes include, but are not limited to “I support the gays but why do they keep throwing it in our faces?”or, “I don’t go around telling people I’m straight, why do you go around telling people you’re gay?”“ Unfortunately, I cannot dive into why those quotes are problematic as of now because there is still a lot more to cover, but if you’d like to talk more about it, definitely don’t hesitate to ask! 

The simple truth of the matter is this: being openly and unapologetically gay in a world where queer citizens in other countries are punished with incarceration or death is an act of rebellion against the system.Having started to come out as a Freshman in high school, I finally began to reveal myself to the world. No more hiding. No more fear. If you noticed, I said “having startedto come out”and not “when I came out”. This is because as a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, we never stop coming out. I came out first to Giancarlo during the introduction exercise, and then to all of you when Giancarlo described me as a “Gaytheist”. This one trait has shaped a lot in my life, including my friend group (consisting of mostly women and gay men), my hobbies (theatre and music, since they are representative of voicing a positive and accepting environment for all people), and through my hobbies, I have found my career. I’ve chosen to professionally major in Music, with the goal of becoming a high school choir director. Last year, I took a class called Introduction to Culture & Diversity in the classroom, where we discussed students and how their socio-economic class, gender, race, sexual orientation affects their learning environment. Through the course, I learned about myself as a gay man that I myself am internally homophobic. I at times think that some gay men are too “effeminate”or am judgmental myself towards gay men. As much as it is not fun to say or hear, this is the reality that I must deal with and face about myself. Running away from reality does not make it any less real, it only delays the positive changes that can result from actively attempting to fix the problem. 

So, when a straight person says I’m “shoving my sexuality down their throat”, or asks that I “tone down my gayness”, I remind myself that there are countries with laws intact that want to eradicate people like myself from existence. There are people who are so afraid to show physical affection to their partner for fear of being physically assaulted. There are children like Jamel Myles, who on August 23^rd, 2018 committed suicide at 9 years old because he was verbally harassed at his elementary school for telling other students that he was gay. This is why I say I am gay. I say I am gay for all of the people who were put to death by their countries. I say I am gay for all of the people who are afraid that coming out to their parents will result in them being kicked out of their homes. I say I am gay in remembrance of those who we have lost. I say I am gay for every person who is still mustering up the courage to say it themselves.