I ♥ Michigan

Last summer, I really hated Michigan. After returning from living in Northern California for nine months, my hometown of St. Clair Shores seemed like a prison of concrete and consumerism. The only thing I could seem to focus on was how much I missed things in California: My friends, San Joaquin School, my girlfriend, the redwoods, AJ’s bar, etc.

I found solace in a small patch of woods behind Fishbones restaurant on 9 mile and Jefferson. I would walk my dog, Dugan, everyday through a ¼ mile patch of overgrown weeds to a hidden patch of trees. I immediately began work on a shelter of sticks, duff, and twigs in the middle of the hidden patch.

With a group of 20 kids in California I could create a shelter in about 45 minutes. In SCS, it took me two months. As the summer proved more and more difficult, it was working on the shelter that kept me sane. The world outside the hidden patch sucked: No one in SCS would hire me. My former health insurance was refusing to pay for a trip to the hospital in Chicago when a car hit me. I couldn’t get a loan for NYU because I owed $2,000 to a Chicago hospital.

I started the shelter with a large branch that looked like a “Y” and rested it on a large straight branch. Then, I combed the hidden patch for more branches, which served as the ribs of the shelter. Dugan kept taking the branches and running off with them. He was a pain, but I was happy in my work.

Eventually, we grabbed (well, mostly me) a bunch of twigs for the lattice over the ribs. That part took a really long time because I was used to having a whole redwood forest to provide materials, but the hidden patch only gave me 15 or so trees.

It was during phase 3 of the shelter that my life in Michigan started looking up. First, my former employer, Brogan & Partners Convergence Marketing, rehired me for a fifth time. Then, I was able to prove to the insurance company that I was hit by a car while I had health insurance. Lastly, I got my loan to attend NYU.

During the final phase of the shelter, putting duff above the lattice, Dugan had nothing to bite so we were able to enjoy each other’s company. I finished the shelter in the first week of August. I even created a little sitting area inside to dream of the future, and the past.

After my first semester at NYU, I took Dugan for a walk at our old spot through the howling December winds and falling snow. Arriving at the hidden patch, I was distraught.

Someone had taken a bulldozer through the patch, knocking over trees, plants, and our shelter. All that was left was a muddy, frozen patch of dirt and four trees.

* * *

A few weeks ago, I returned home to St. Clair Shores after nearly two months in West Africa. After seeing much of the worst of what human beings had to offer, from both American college students and Ghanaians, I was thrilled to be home.

I looked at the place I had resented so much since I first left it in 2005 with new eyes. The people were so friendly. The food was good. My family was, slightly, normal. And SCS, the Detroit suburb on the shores of Lake St. Clair, was beautiful.

The waters from our canal rested peacefully (except for when Dugan would jump in them), the sun and bright blue sky sent my heart soaring, and massive midwestern thunderstorms were gorgeous in their fury.

Aside from working on two stories that were way past due, I spent my two weeks at home constructing a trail through the weeds to the hidden patch. I began dragging old logs from, what I believe to be, the remnants of our shelter up through the weeds. Placing the sticks side-by-side, we cut a path through weeds so overgrown that it seemed no one had even breathed on them since the spring.

The trail is now, in my opinion, pretty swell. If any Michiganders come across this blog, here are instructions: Enter the weeds at the very end of the Fishbones parking lot where there should be two 2X4's guiding the way. Walk about 15 paces until you see a collection of sticks tied together by weeds (see picture below) and turn right. The rest of the path has sticks at least every 6-8 feet. It will lead you directly to the hidden patch.

I didn't travel much while I was home, but that was fine by me. I was able to get take out from my two favorite Detroit restaurants, Buddy's Pizza and National Coney Island. I spent some time in the western suburbs chasing a story that I started work on in Ghana (more on this later).

As I pack my things for New York, I can't help but think I'm leaving something behind. Although, I'm reminded of what one Ghanaian said in an interview to a friend of mine: "Sometimes your destiny is not in your own country." I think for me, and many of my NMU friends, our destinies are off in different states. But, that doesn't mean I can't still love my home.

I ♥ Michigan

Bill Maher Isn't So Bad

I usually am not a huge fan of Bill Maher, but this clip from his show last month changed my mind.

In it, he is actually the first person I have seen on TV (who actually has a large audience) say what a lot of us are thinking. His analysis of the United States' two-party system is refreshing and, in this blogger's mind, totally true.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Final Thoughts on Ghana

Ghana Log 18

I think every experience in life changes a person. Sometimes you can notice it right away, other times it takes years.

I don't always thing change is a good thing. Coming back from war with PTSD being one example. But, I have already noticed a few positive things about my time in Africa.

First, I'm really interested in Africa now. As worldly as I like to think of myself, I must admit I didn't know hardly anything about Africa until moving there. I'm not as bad as Sarah Palin, but I knew more about some European countries than I did about the whole African continent.

Now I have a better idea of what is going on over there, but perhaps more importantly, I'm actually interested in it. I've been going on BBC Africa (my favorite site for all things Africa - sorry allafrica.com) everyday since coming back and I can't get enough!

I think every American should visit there, if possible. It might actually change a lot of perceptions of our country being this great "world helper." Real progress won't happen until both sides get over what the West did way back when. It's time for us to work together to stop all modern forms of colonialism.

Second, I dislike rich white people even more. I'm willing to accept that we are all products of our environment. A poor kid from Stockton, Calif. is unwilling to try in school because his dad is in a gang and he has no support at home...and a rich white girl from the Upper West Side has everything she ever wanted so she doesn't show any respect. It's all relative, I suppose. But, I hope that if I win the lottery some day, my daughter won't get any money in her account from me.


Last, God bless America!

In no way do I support the policies of the American government or even have minimal feelings of nationalism, but the people and culture of America are amazing.

The American people are the kindest, most charitable, and most intelligent in the world. Even if half our population is ignorant, that still leaves 150,000 that are really cool. We might have one of the most evil ruling classes in the history of the world, but the American masses are still the best people anyone would want to meet in their life.

It has taken me a very long time to come to this conclusion. Before I left for England, I thought all of USA sucked. I realized after I was wrong. Before leaving for Africa, I thought even the best of us had somehow been corrupted. I now realize that is wrong.

In my travels I have met a lot of Europeans that think differently. Let me tell you, an American would never move to Ireland or Germany and start talking about how stupid the population is or how fat everyone is.

I know Europe was hot shit back in the day. All the greatest music, literature, and ideas came out of there. Well, now it's America. All the music you listen to, the movies you watch, and the best political thinkers (Noam Chomsky, Naomi Klein, Jeremy Scahill, Paul D' Amato, etc.) are here. Get over it.

I hope if America someday pays second fiddle to China, my kids have the tact not to go over there and start hating on the people.

That's a wrap for my time in Africa! Thank you to everyone that read my blog during this time and, especially, if you left comments.

I hope you still follow my adventures in New York City.

"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." - Dr. Seuss

Guy's Night 2009!

Ghana Log 15

You'd think it would be really cool to be the only couple guys in a big group of girls. For the most part, it is. But, every once in a while you need a break.

On Friday, the only two guys at the NYU compound (the other two were AWOL) hit the town. I wish I had more video to work with, but I think the YouTube clip I created is still fun to watch.

We went to Champs, which was really similar to a New York bar, and Tantra, a packed Osu club. A few of the girls crashed the party at Champs, but we were actually glad to see them.

The photo on the left is from my favorite comic of all time, Y: The Last Man.

Garin in Ghana

Ghana Log 14

My friend Garin has a fun blog called Follow Garin in Ghana that I recently helped with.

One of his friends from Florida sent him a list of misconceptions about Africa, so I did my best to clear them up.

It's crazy to think that in a few days I will have been living in Africa for one month.

You can view the article HERE.

Also, during research for an article I'm doing about African-Americans coming to Ghana I discovered that Garin probably has ancestors from England. So, considering my ancestors come from Scotland, he is the one oppressing me...in a roundabout kind of way. It seems strange considering he is such a nice guy, but now everytime I look at him I want to yell, "Freedoooommmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Obama Wrap-Up

Ghana Log 12

I feel like I am following this guy around.

So far, I have had seven published stories about Barack Obama. Three were on NYC Pavement Pieces, one (about Obama political buttons) for the New York Daily News, one in Socialist Worker, one in amNew York, and, as of yesterday, one in The New York Amsterdam News.

I also got my first ever photo credit for a story in The AFRican Magazine.

I also have written a lot about his policies on my blog. I even had a poll asking visitors if they cared about him visiting Ghana (72 percent said "Yes" and 27 percent said "No").

My personal views on the political system in the United States are much different than the president's supporters so I don't want to risk this blog becoming an "Obama blog." Regardless, I'm happy for each and every visitor to The Mid-Twenties.

* * *

“In America the President reigns for four years, and Journalism governs for ever and ever” - Oscar Wilde

Africa Bites

Ghana Log 11

Well, it was going to happen eventually.

The hardest part about living in Africa, and one the things that has made life for Ghanaians so hard, is disease caused by a poor water supply. It is all too easy to get this bad water into food and, I assume, I ate something with contaminated water.

On Monday, I woke up feeling a little sick. I first took care of a student that had been throwing up all night and then went to class. The whole morning I felt like I might throw up myself, and then around noon it finally hit: I threw up more than I ever have in my whole life. At least 8 or 9 times.

Then, I went home and slept for four hours. When I woke up, it was the same thing all over again. Basically, my body was doing anything possible to get rid of something inside me. It was gross, painful, and exhausting.

Four other students ended up being sick too. We think it was from the same Chinese restaurant, but who knows. I'm happy to say, after a truly brutal 24 hours, I'm back to my old self.

I guess having stomach problems is part of the African experience.

My First Published Story from Ghana!

Ghana Log 9

Yesterday, Barack Obama visited Ghana and it was time for me to get to work. I wrote three stories for three different publications. It was a real challenge because I had to have different sources for each story and had to write them differently. It was rough, but by 7:15 p.m. I had submitted all the stories.

My first story published from this amazing country was in am New York.

You can read it HERE.