New Lane for Me. The Updated Version

This A Story I Compose And Posted On My Former blog That I Moved And re-edited.

Read This, If You Dare.

“You don't have to be a genius or a visionary or even a college graduate to be successful. You just need a framework and a dream.”

I once thought that College would create a life for me. I believed that if I sacrificed my time and my money, serve my four-year jail sentence, And Subsequently, the world would be mine: I was wrong.

              My journey through college began three years ago when I enrolled in the University of the Bahamas Media Journalism Study. I picked Journalism because I loved sports, particularly basketball, and I thought what better way to be involved in the game (besides playing or coaching) than to be media personnel. From what I’ve seen on television it seemed like a fulfilling job, not an easy one but you’re always around the object of your fascination, and that’s all really matters in the end. Although the University of the Bahamas is more of a Hotel/Tourism/Management school (at least in my opinion) I thought their burgeoning Journalism program could still yield a positive output for my dreams, it wasn’t as if I had toa n of options at my front door. I was wrong, the fit hasn’t been harmonious. In the beginning, I was inspired and enthused to a point that I believed that mountains would move not only by my actions but by my command, and for the most part, early on this attitude held. My grades were admirable, and I began to think that if I could overlook the shortcomings of limited course selections and the lack of diversity within the journalism curriculum—classes are often redundant, more formality than then necessity—that maybe, with enough patience and perseverance I could make this circumstantial coupling work. If there’s one life lesson I’ve learned from this experience in college is that not even determination can make prosper what isn’t proper. Between then and now my interest in school has kind of evaporated, most of the time I spend on campus is split between the basketball court or at Wendy’s with friends, which is something I don’t need to spend thousands of dollars a semester to do. I’m sure you can imagine this selective use of time hasn’t bode well for my grades--I won’t go into details. Like most discouraged and distracted college students my first thought was dropping out, start selling insurance, raise a family, regular people stuff. I considered, strongly, but I knew that quitting on my dreams wouldn’t satisfy me any more than pointlessly chasing them around the campus of the University of The Bahamas. Then moved on to my 2nd option, seeking wisdom-- I didn’t know what else to do--which I found via Google and in the quote: “When you feel like quitting think about why you started”-Anonymous. Processing…Why did I start? Well, That goes back to 2011.

 In 2011, I had just finished high school(freedom) and college was not on my radar, not when there were vaginas and money to be had and I was strongly interested in having it. I learned quickly that money and vagina were things one had to work for and ‘working’ did not fit Well into my cause for freedom. I would have to sacrifice so much free time when all I wanted was free time. My indifference had ramifications. Not only did I not get what I desired, but I also spent most of 2011 depressed and porn-addicted, GOOD TIMES, GOOOD TIMES. I Spent the Latter Of 2011 mostly trap in this state of affairs.  Fast Forward, 2012. My mental health was coiled into a fabric of snare That I could only imagine the “Agony Matrix” feels like. I did what a reasonable man would do in this situation: watch ESPN.

Ever Since I Was A Youth I had Been enamored with the game of basketball. Ever since my early teens when I hit my growth spurt and dominated against my shorter contemporaries, it has been the object of my aspirations, and All Of My developmental Teen Years Were Spent On The Basketball Court. High School Practice. Church Court. Park Court. Front Room anywhere A Ball could Bounce, I was There, With A Ball to bounce. It meant Everything To Me... Then I Feel In Love, Plus I was Doing Poorly Academically. Which, in Retrospect, Love was not the remedy but you can’t always control that. Poor Grades would Come To Haunt Me Again.

I began spending hours on end drowning my depressions in sports television, with ESPN’s “First Take” standing out as a favorite. Watching Stephan A. Smith and Skip Bayless’s war of words became not just the thrill of my days, it was my day. Those two hours of debate wash The sorrow of depression and dejection away from My Life. It gave me, What I Have Come To Understand in maturity, “Meaning”, “Purpose,” “Direction” (That Word).  I would Articulate (I learned That Word From TV, Mama I am Smart) my own opinions to counter theirs. Imagined I was there on the panel, I would share my thoughts with them and others on Twitter. It gave me a reason for being in a time when I needed a reason the most, it became my sanctuary and it was where I fell in love with sports talk/media. Eventually, I would get a job that year, spend less time with Stephen A. and co as I assimilated into the real world of bank accounts and bills. Three months later I would lose that job, starting a pattern of a work-fired-extended period of unemployment- that would persist with me into 2014, Addendum—2021. Here, I once again found myself in a familiar place: broke, dangerously sexual depraved and (with this exception) and worst of all,21. Addendum, Again, The Consistency though. Where did the time go? I did not know and cared not to think of it.  Not rushed to find a new job, I took up Lodging in my haven, The old sanctum but this time distraction would lead me to destiny.

Around this time, having accepted my failure as a worker I began considering College. I had not the slightest idea of why What Or when. “School is 4 Chumps” That Is What SpongeBob Taught Me, And So That Is What I Believe.  I knew Only That this pointless cycle of losing jobs in Continuum could not carry on. College could be the answer I thought Or At least it would Give Me more Time To Live Off Of My Parents Until The answer came. Better in time.  Not A remedy but An Assuaging of Sorts, some sense of direction, something, give me something. I would only succeed in perpetuating the same cycle of “began and defer”, only this time in college I’d be spending money not making it—not wise.  In my sanctuary, First Take, one of the segments featured a Pastor from Detroit—I don’t remember his name—and he came to debate about… I don’t remember that either, but I remember some of the important parts. He shared some of his testimony. He once was a directionless 21-year-old drug dealer on the streets of Detroit, with a son, until he left the drugs and streets behind and went to college and changed his life, Through Service, Structure, and Scripture he Gained prominence; now here he was, a guest on First Take Small Matter to Some But Major Matter To A Lost Directionless Youth. His story resonated with me on so many levels, most importantly him being 21.  He was where I was—minus the son and the drugs and Detroit—but everything else.

That very week I enrolled in the University of the Bahamas: Media Journalist. I arrived in January 2015.

 Due to my weak high school testing scores (sigh! high school Jason), I was forced to settle for the perfunctory Gen Ed/College Prep classes before being eligible for the real curriculum. I breezed through those courses and became confident in my abilities (discipline and studiousness). I had good reason to be though I believe in myself and I set high standards, and often achieved or just felt short of them. I could think of no reason why this attitude wouldn’t translate to success as I moved forward. Thus, I entered Journalism. A lesson to all, don’t overlook a small trend because you think it’s early and things can change: They usually don’t, and these trends are usually a sign of things to come. Immediately after entering my enthusiasm began to wane I was far removed from the inspired boy who started down this path and it didn’t help that I got a part-time job that was more demanding than the school itself, but I didn’t think much of it. Early on, the classes were pre-requisites, “Intro to com”, “Intro to sound production”—these classes were almost intentionally boring, and they sure bored me. Through aptitude and favorable relationships with Professors, I was able to move forward unblemished despite a lapse in alacrity. The following semester I didn’t fair as well. I got my first “D”, In English Language: It could have been a The Results of me Being A Terrible writer, but I Deferred The To my professor; I did not like her. I took English again in The Following Semester, only this time I got an “F”. Suddenly, I became aware that there may be a problem here. One “IF” sn’’t alarming, it’s happened to the best of us. What was alarming, my uninterest, I could not have cared less.  I’m a college student I don’t have time to think about why I’m underperforming, I need to do school work to ensure that I don’t underperform: The College paradox. So here I am, 2 years into journalism and my grades have drastically decreased and my interest in grades is not far behind so I finally decided to look deeper into my shortcomings. It didn’t take me long to figure out what was wrong; turns out that if I did the work my teachers assigned me I’d be doing a lot better in school. So, you’re probably thinking “well duh, college doesn’t work if you don’t”, and that thinking would be justified but not doing the work didn’t cover it all. Yes, I was guilty of subverting discipline, I picked up the standard college student habits of procrastination and focusing on my Instagram activity rather than my lecturer’s discourse. Sometimes my likes were higher than my grades: I felt no compunction about this.  My pride ultimately spurred me to straighten up; no sense in paying this much money for mediocrity when I knew I can perform better. So, I tried. I began putting aside time daily, devoted strictly to my academics. I couldn’t cure my Instagram addiction but assumed time would be enough and everything would be alright. No, it wasn’t. Discipline isn’t something that can be reclaimed in moments it’s built over time, routinely. So, I was still lost and failing but not content with it. I earnestly believed there was more to it than just discipline, it’s absence alone shouldn’t be the reason for my failure, aptitude alone should yield me at least a C. So, I studied what I was studying, the subject matter. News/Journalism in the Bahamas is solely predicated on politics and crime. The Prime Minister sneezes, headline news, the kids from across the street steal the mangoes from your tree, headline news. UB’s curriculum is centered on this principle and that felicitous for those who love “Journalism” and being “Nosey”, I don’t, I love sports and… more sports and there was the root of my problems: I wasn’t doing what I Love. On top of that, I loathed this obsession with politics, it never made sense to me.

Here I am, with my blog. Where I control the content.

My shortcomings in school could be a product of my incompetence and lack of discipline.  And I may be deluding myself by believing a change of content could equal change conditioning but I’m willing to bet on myself. I was willing to put the onus on me and create my own lane to my dreams.