|TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,|
|And sorry I could not travel both|
|And be one traveler, long I stood|
|And looked down one as far as I could|
|To where it bent in the undergrowth;||5|
|Then took the other, as just as fair,|
|And having perhaps the better claim,|
|Because it was grassy and wanted wear;|
|Though as for that the passing there|
|Had worn them really about the same,||10|
|And both that morning equally lay|
|In leaves no step had trodden black.|
|Oh, I kept the first for another day!|
|Yet knowing how way leads on to way,|
|I doubted if I should ever come back.||15|
|I shall be telling this with a sigh|
|Somewhere ages and ages hence:|
|Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—|
|I took the one less traveled by,|
|And that has made all the difference.|
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Before I begin this blog, I'd like to say how much I appreciate my Father's wisdom and advice. I used to be so stubborn when he would talk to me, I felt like he was trying to run my life. Now I understand that he was trying to help me in my decisions. I know now that if I want solid advice, then I can turn to him. This man, that I call Papi is amazing. I love him so much and this blog is a thank you to him. Papi, eres mi heroe! Me da orgullo decir que eres mi padre. Gracias por todo. Tu hija para siempre...Angie
I have always been a stubborn person. I have always liked to make my own decisions and create my own paths. Like Robert Frost's poem, I like to take the road less travelled. Almost a year ago, I let somebody into my life after I had made the decision to go to France. You've all probably read a part of my blogs and know that I kind of regret the decision of going to France. Although, I think the real poor decision was bringing somebody into my life. But that is a decision I have to live with now and I may regret the things that I did after I came back, but I am NOT sorry for my actions. I recently read this scripture in church and realized that I was searching for mercy, I made a cry for help.
Help, God—the bottom has fallen out of my life! Master, hear my cry for help!
Listen hard! Open your ears!
Listen to my cries for mercy.
3-4 If you, God, kept records on wrongdoings,
who would stand a chance?
As it turns out, forgiveness is your habit,
and that's why you're worshiped.
5-6 I pray to God—my life a prayer—
and wait for what he'll say and do.
My life's on the line before God, my Lord,
waiting and watching till morning.
I looked for mercy in another falliable human being, and found shame and disdain. I had been going to church to find a way out of my misery and one day my mind shifted, I had to cry out. I still found reproach, but within me I found release, I found peace. Because of my steadfast belief in my God, I was able to live with my irrational decision to ask a another human for mercy that couldn't be given. Through my cry, I believe God gave me that mercy. He gave me what no other human could have given me.
Five months later I find myself at another crossroads. I'm fully functional and rational this time and I was able to ask my father for advice. I think through my cry, God was able to give me insight into the trust I could put into my Father. I have never felt closer to my Papi, as I do now.
My heart has been in two places and the weight of having to make a decision as to where I should place it fully has conflicted me. By not making a choice I stand the chance of not just hurting others, but in the process myself. I tell myself that I am okay with functioning like this, but much to my surprise, my Father knows me better than I thought he did. He understands my love of people and my desire to hurt no one. He knows I don't like conflict, and that I am the only one that can resolve it. He quite simply told me, you have to make a choice. The longer I wait, the more it tears my heart, the more it stresses my thoughts, the more it keeps me conflicted. So, before I create drama for myself, I must make a choice. Both paths have been well travelled, but not by me. Everybody comes to this crossroads, do I stick with what I know to be safe, or do I take a risk?
My heart may take a beating if I take the road less travelled, but I know that my trust in my father and my trust in God will allow me to heal again. It is a risk, but I have faith that I will come out unscathed on the other side.
Our choices are not always black or white, the gray area is sometimes more prevalent.
For me I think I will take the road less travelled.....
I hope Robert Frost is right....
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Mr. Gillham was my third grade teacher at Blue Ridge Elementary. I remember the day our class went on a walking field trip to Raytown City Hall and the Raytown Historical Society Museum. It was the first time History became a tangible reality to me. I'm not entirely sure if this was the moment that made me realize the importance of history, but the trip to the museum burns brightly in my mind. Last year I began writing my thesis for my Senior Capstone course for my History degree at UMKC. I wanted to know about life in Raytown during the Civil Rights Movement. I decided that the museum would be my first stop to start digging.
I encountered two volunteers who gave me a book about the history of Raytown and the man mentioned that the first time he ever had a Black student was either the late 70s or early 80s. Coincidently, the gentleman was Mr. Gillham himself. It all made sense to me, he was the first historian to influence me. He has to be the reason for my interest in the study of the past. Mr. Gillham's information was first, astonishing to me. The Civil Rights Act had been adopted in 1964 by the Federal Government, why weren't their Black families within the boundaries of the Raytown School District. Secondly, there are no records at the Museum that identify the role Raytown citizens or city officials may have played in the Civil Rights Era. Thirdly, apparently, history in Raytown ended in 1972. The volunteers at the Museum were certainly busy the day I visited, creating a special exhibit of vintage Valentine's Day cards. I will be the first to admit that art is important in the study of the past. It reflects the attitudes and behaviors of humanity during a different era, but I didn't understand its importance to the history of Raytown's society.
The majority of the museum, from what I remember, had remained the same since my first visit in the mid 1980s. I was saddened at first by this lack of updating at the museum. The museum reflected what many Kansas City metropolitan citizens think of this town, as a town stuck in the past. By visiting the museum, one would assume that Raytown only has a Pioneer history with a brief stint of progressivism during the 1950s & 1960s. Fortunately, my sadness transitioned into hope. I thought about what the words Historical Society mean. It is very simply, a study of the history of societies. Compared to Lee's Summit, Olathe, Blue Springs, and the others; Raytown is comprised of an unique ethnically diverse population. It would be interesting to study how these ethnic groups migrated into Raytown rather than other surrounding suburbs. It would be interesting to see where the former slaves moved to after emancipation. I know. But shouldn't everybody else? A Historical Society Museum should be representative of the society which it represents. I have high hopes for the Raytown Museum. I've decided that as a Historian in Raytown, I will undertake the task of finding grants and monies to help visitors glimpse what has happened in the town since 1972. This is a suburb that can become exemplary. It has a hidden history to reveal, one that many suburbs experienced during the Civil Rights Era and the aftermath.
There are individuals in this town who are interested in seeing the city modernize. I have always believed that in order to propel into the future, a community must understand its past first. Once we have a firm grasp on who we are and where we come from, we can truly look ahead with an attitude of hope for prosperity.