Author: santoe

Santi Gill

As a kid, growing up, as a kid does when growing up, there were many times when I would mess up, forget, or misunderstand something. Now obviously it’s common to do these things as a kid, but usually it’s the job of the parents to correct them in a way that they understand what they did wrong, and to make sure they know what to do to not let it happen again. My parents didn’t really understand that too much, which is why I almost never take myself too seriously, for better or worse. This is not to say I do not respect or have confidence in myself, I do, I just don’t see the reason why they would get so mad when they did. My parents each have their own mental issues on their own, so when they were together it was double the nonsense.

The earliest instance I can remember is around 2010-2011 when I was 11 or 12. Having just drank through three of them my dad told me to throw out the water bottles. Now the “system” we had of recycling bottles in the house was to throw the cap out, rinse the bottle, and put it in the blue bag. So I went to the kitchen, and took off the cap. It was water, so I felt no need to rinse the bottle with something that was already on it. You wouldn’t rinse yourself in the shower by adding more soap, unless you want a longer shower. Yet my dad still yelled at me to rinse the bottle. I tried to explain to him that it was redundant by doing that, to no avail. Lesson learned: nothing.

Then came school assignments. My parents were ludicrously hard on us about doing good in school, in the worst way possible. They were always pressuring me to do better, and I was never really good at math. I recall getting yelled at for not understanding how to subtract properly. This never did any good for me. It only frustrated me to wanting to do better, and feeling bad for myself when I didn’t do better, which would then lead to parents taking away things, like my phone, or the computer.  We also weren’t allowed to play video games on weekdays, which made no sense to me. All “immature-wanting to play a video game-I’d never be able to focus” tendencies aside, when I’m done with what I have to do, why shouldn’t I be able to enjoy myself afterwards? It only ever felt like a punishment. But all of this manifested in 2012 when they divorced.

My parents were kind of religious. Not too much, but enough where you had to take God seriously in the house or you might get struck by lightning or something. With this, I know divorce can never happen to us, because it would be a sin. Yeah, no, it did. It was November 2012, before Thanksgiving. I forget where we were coming back from, but regardless it was me, my dad,  my little brother and my little sister in the car. It was pretty cold, we all were bundled up with our puffy jackets that made us look out of shape. My dad was talking about putting up a tree, while we were trying to tell him it’s too early to do that. We pulled up to the house, and we see some guy speaking to my mom at the door. My dad walks in and the guy tries to hand him a piece of paper, while my dad ignores him and heads inside. I take the paper, and I read that it says “DIVORCE”. Obviously there was more on the paper than just that one word, but that was all I needed to see. Obviously I could see why it got to that point, they weren’t good together, which can be a story of its own. However, this situation mattered because everything felt turned against me, and events afterwards during the divorce process would double down on that feeling. My mom’s treatment to my dad was disgusting, and at the same time, I wasn’t emotionally mature enough to know, help, or understand how my Dad felt. This made going into high school hard, as I had to associate with new people, at the same time dealing with what was going on at home. One of the ways I was able to deal with all this was humor. Being around all that negativity is probably what gave me a dark sense of humor, but this allowed me to find the humor in many things. Obviously not everything though, otherwise I would be a psychopath. I realized that balance is necessary between work and fun.

However you find it, if you don’t find a way to have fun with what you’re doing, you will never feel happy. I love learning, and it is fun, but being yelled at to learn, or to do something, is not. Maybe I could’ve done things differently, I do regret not being social enough during this time, having someone to talk to probably would’ve helped, but nonetheless, I am who I am today because of it. I try to find happiness in the dark times, because if you don’t you will be lost.

Santi Gill

2/6/19

I was walking to my house after work, still in my ugly green sweater, with the cool air surrounding me and the sun setting on the city. I see my mom walk out, purse on one shoulder, and ask me to come with her to the store, so I go with her. She offered to pay for whatever I get, so I got a sandwich, and she got her things. The cook there was good. Don’t know his name, but I’d guess through healthy racial profiling that he was a Mexican man. But what mattered was not his looks, but whether or not the food he makes is good, and it always is. Ordering my food, the cook forgot what was in the type of sandwich I told him. My mom got mad at that, so I had to give her the rundown that not everybody has photographic memory, and that he cant remember everything on the menu and what’s gonna be in it. At my own job it’s kind of similar, but instead of food, its balloons that are available behind the cash register. Customers usually describe what type of balloon it is rather than say the number we put on top of it, so I have to turn around and look to see what they mean instead of just putting in the three numbers.

When she had finished with what she was buying and while I was waiting on the food, my mom got tired of the lady in front of her waiting to get change and bumped into her. The lady my mom bumped into just looked at her, and continued to deal with the cashier to get her change. All the while my mom is talking under her breath at her. The lady gets her things, talks under her breath back at my mom, before screaming at her before leaving the store, which causes her to try and go after the lady, which forces me to hold my mom back. I thought the whole thing was kind of funny. Two cops had been inside the store, also waiting on food, and the main reason I hadn’t gotten mine. My mom took notice of them and tried to explain what happened, prompting the cops to explain to her that if she tried to go after the lady, she would have been arrested. She had a fit and because of this was allowed to take what she put on the counter for free. It would have been nice if that was the motivation behind it. But no, just her being her I guess. I just wanted my damn sandwich. I ended up getting the sandwich for free too, but at the end of the day, I dont think she should have been mad at the cook or the lady, it didn’t make sense. I learned from then on that going to the store with my mom might not bring about good luck to the people around us, so I choose not to, unless I get a free sandwich.

Santi Gill

5/19/19

Carrie Hall

This writing semester was very proactive for me. Especially compared to my mindset present with me last year to now, I feel I have thoroughly progressed as a writer. Essentially, last year I was in school, taking this English class, 1102, and two or three other classes. But I felt mentally overwhelmed, I had wanted to take that particular semester off, but my parents had forced me to go pretty much. While I ended up picking classes that I liked, I was just not mentally engaged with what was being presented, and so my GPA suffered. I had the attitude that just being in school would be good for me, and would get my parents off my back. This combination is not good if you are me, and just do something for someone else’s sake instead of for yourself. To be honest I didn’t feel like I was there for myself, which is why I had no desire to do the work.

Feeling mentally overwhelmed did a toll on my grades definitely, and while I do regret it, I don’t know if it would’ve played out differently. I just did not feel good about myself. But I have had a lot of time to think between then and the semester I skipped this past Fall. To me, school is important, but if you don’t wanna be in it, you shouldn’t be. You should do what you want with yourself. This is why I appreciated this class so much, because I felt like I could write about what I wanted. I had the tools, and for the first time I had a teacher that said, do something with it. In the past I would be told to format writing assignments so specifically, and to be focused on one thing and one thing only. This class made me feel like I had some room to operate fully in. From the beginning of the semester to the end, I feel like I have expanded myself creatively especially with what I had done with the video essay in Unit 2. The laptop I had used ended up breaking down maybe a month or so afterward, but it was okay. From the first Unit to now, I undoubtedly believe that I have gotten better. In unit 1 I had used too much repetition and tried too hard for a joke, like the repetition I had in the first line. I had said, “As a kid growing up, as a kid does when growing up…”. I realize now how it didn’t really work for the tone of the essay, and I have grown since then. In my photo essay for unit 4, even though it wasn’t about something that happened to me, I used to have the habit of inserting my own humor into it. Unit 4 was really my first paper where I took it seriously. Even in the video essay it was based on, I had used the visuals to tell a joke (The Calvary Hill part). I have tried to limit my humor mostly because so many times in the past it ended up misguiding the direction I wanted the reader to go in. I have been more careful this time around, and have used it to better evolve my writing.

My grades are not the best, my attitude towards school isn’t what I think it should be, and I still have improvements to work on. I feel that in my personal writings, pacing is needing improvement. However I know that from what I’ve learned from this class, I will only get better. I also know that it will be quite hard to forget where that assistance came from.