It’s high school football season.
I miss high school football season. I mean I miss being part of the high school football season. The only thing I am doing these days is checking how the Centennial Titans are doing weekly. That’s because Alex went to the Frisco Centennial High.
Alex started high school as a member of both the Titans football team and the Titans band. That was a tough schedule. He pretty much had to make a choice between the two, but did not want to disappoint his friends and coaches in either team. I remember he was struggling for a while to make a decision, and one day coming back from a prolonged practice afternoon with both teams, he was deeply troubled. That was the first time I saw Alex needed help in handling school affairs. We had a little chat. I asked him what he thought was the best thing to do for himself. He said he wanted to focus on the band. I volunteered to go with him to see his football head coach. And we did. The coach was supportive. I could see the sense of relief from Alex.
It turned out to be the right decision. Alex flourished and excelled in the band. He became a drum major in his senior year. The Titan Band won many regional, state, and national awards. I made sure I was in those competitions as much as I could. I enjoyed every performance.
But the real excitements came from the Friday night football games. The kids were certainly into it. The fans – parents – were even more into it. All the yelling, shouting, cheering made the evening that much fun! Then here came the half time show. That was when I felt even more proud. Sometime, our football team was over powered (this is a very young high school). Then you would hear one of the parents saying: “Our band will beat ya!” It was in those games that I felt the strong family and community bonds.
I know high school football has over a hundred years of history. But this kind experience was brand new to me. In all my school years, rarely the parents got involved in any extra curricular activities (if there were any those activities). As I sat there with other parents cheering in those games and performances, I could sense how much more the boys and girls enjoyed themselves, because they knew that on top of bringing the best to their school, they always have their loved ones behind them. Win or loose aside, they wanted to do their best to make themselves proud, and to make their folks proud.
I have been following the Cowboys for some time now, and I am also attached to my UW Badgers and Alex’s Longhorns (I admit that I am more attached to the Badgers). But only by going to the high school games could one understand the deep roots of football and the love to the game in this country.
Tags: Alex, Community
Today marks the 8th anniversary of 9 11. What happened 8 years ago on this date completely changed the lives of many. As we begin to observe this day, let us not fall into a mere routine action of comfortably relegate to remembrance on a single day each year. We must never forget!
The 9 11 tragedy was a direct attack to the humanities, a direct attack to the freedoms, and a direct attack to the inalienable rights of to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Such attack could
come in other shapes and forms. We must join force with all the peace lovers across the globe to protect those rights.
Let’s join our spirits in unity and dignity to honor the heroes who lost their lives on that tragic day.
God Bless America!
A beautiful poem by Adam Zagajewski
(translated, from the Polish, by Clare Cavanagh – shared by my friend Xiao)
Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June’s long days,
And wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
The abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
One of them had a long trip ahead of it,
While salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere,
You’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
In a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought of the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
And leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.
Praise the mutilated world
And the gray feather a thrush lost,
And the gentle light that strays and vanishes
Tags: human race, Liberty