KM 3A

So, in class I half assed on a monologue I quickly scribbled down in the class before. As a result, I got horrible stage fright, I was stumped in front of it, and embarrassed myself.

Good job kiddo.

The idea I had in mind of how people waste time, and I wanted to add a clever twist into it, but it resulted in me confusing myself up front.

Again, good job kiddo.

However, I had a second one deep inside I really wanted to share with everyone, but I didn’t know if it was appropriate, or hell, creative enough to share with the class. It was about my dad.

KevJumba (Check him out on Youtube, funny guy) talks about his dad a lot in many of his videos. You can tell the close, and tight knit bond they share as a functioning family. My story took years to develop between my dad and I, and I’ve seen the good, and the bad. My parents were never on the same level with each other. They would bicker, and nag at each other until one gave up, or one blew up. Ever since I was five, I always saw them argue, I would see them shove bills in each other’s faces, and see checks shoved into each other’s faces.

Money was always the root of the problem in this family, and no doubt things got worse as I got older. I always heard my mom’s side of things, and I was brainwashed into believing my dad was the bad guy. I remember I told him I hated him and saw the look on his face. It was the face of a broken man, who saw his own son turn on him. He knew he couldn’t get me back, he knew he couldn’t convince me. He went off to Cambodia for two months when I was 16; two months, without my dad. It felt empty, and I began to see the real truth of things; it wasn’t entirely my dad’s fault. I began to feel guilty of what I had said to him before he left. I sulked day by day, and actually became depressed for my tenth grade year. He had come back in June of that year, but not back to a warm home. My mom changed the locks, and forced my dad out the house to live elsewhere.

That process hit me the hardest. Why was my mom doing this? Why does she look like the bad guy? I tried to picture a quiet, and peaceful family, but the reality hit me so hard, it was not possible. My dad had moved in with his sister, and now he is living a content life. He keeps up to date with his child support, and tries his hardest to take care of my sister and I, despite him being out of the house. To this day, I still feel guilty of saying I hated him. The expression on his face lights up when he sees me visit him, but there is a part of me that still sees his broken expression. I try my hardest to be the best son possible for him, and for my mother. I’m in college now, and I visit him on a weekly basis. I would share stories I have about Baruch College to him, and I would tell him everything that goes on in the family. He asks about my mom a lot, and he always tells me to look out for her. He’s always been a wise man, a smart and successful father. I’m glad I look up to him.

He promised me that he would take me fishing when I was five. This summer he took me fishing.

Thank you dad.