Tu parles francais?

As I walked into school on Thursday wearing my very ‘french’ outfit holding a plate of very ugly crepes that I had made the night before, an overwhelming amount of nervousness flooded through my body. I didn’t want to look like an idiot. I was comfortable with my french speaking skills, but I couldn’t explain to people who didn’t know about french day why on earth I was speaking french in the hallway. Walking into the school, I automatically felt the urge to say ‘thank you’ to the person holding the door open for me. But as I opened my mouth to speak I suddenly remembered I was supposed to be speaking french, so this weird mixture of “thamerci” came out of my mouth, which responded a weird look from the guy who held the door opened for me. At first, speaking french was extremely frustrating. My first bell being english class, my group members were none to happy that I couldn’t help them very much create a short story. Not one of my 6 group members spoke french, and it took too long for me to write down all that I was thinking. But during the last 10 minutes of first bell, when we had free time to talk, that’s when I really started changing my perspective on french day. My group members asked me to translate random sentences that popped through their minds. They were in awe of how pretty the language was, they even tried to guess what I was saying. That trend followed through the rest of my bells. In 3rd bell, when I had a guest speaker from the college of Arts and Sciences of Chicago come in, I stayed true to french day. When he asked us some ice breaker questions, I answered in french. It turned out that he actually knew french and his skill level went over my head, but it was still a really unique way to connect with someone from a college admission board. The rest of the day, my teachers would randomly say french words that they knew, like ‘pamplemousse’. I still find it weird that was the only french word he knew, but hey, it was interesting. I found out that one of my teacher’s proposed to his girlfriend in Paris, and he ended up telling me the story of how they met and how he proposed. It seemed that even communication seemed to be more challenging, I ended up connecting with people in a way I never would have. 


Bringing back Bigfoot

Back to Bigfoot

It’s been a while since Mr. Conner and I debated about Bigfoot- and I think it’s time to bring it back.

I was talking to my friend about whether or not she believed in Bigfoot, and her response was, “well they found water on Mars.” (@laurenlysko)
Personally, I don’t find these two correlated. Finding water on Mars and finding a mysterious animal, are two different things.
Mars is place we A.) don’t live on and B.) have barely explored.
While here are earth, we’ve explored a vast majority of it. The places we haven’t fully explored aren’t places “Bigfoot” would even be. The mythical creature wouldn’t live in the ocean or Antarctica. And if we somehow found a creature similar to “Bigfoot” in these places, then it’s not Bigfoot. Sorry.

I was talking to my other friend about whether or not she believed in Bigfoot, her response was, “the name Bigfoot just sounds made up, like some hairy man walking in the woods in a costume.”


Just Journalist?

Language Arts vs. Journalism

Language Arts vs. Journalism

Social media is not the same thing as journalism. Shocker I know.  An opinion column is not the same a Facebook post. A news broadcast is not the same as a snap chat story. A news article is not the same as a tweet about an event.

Journalism is so much more.

Social media is a way to briefly state your opinion on some idiotic event, or some witty comment, or a way to state your anger publicly.

But journalism is a way to go deeper into a story, know the ins and outs of it. It’s a way for people to form their opinions based on facts. It’s a way to show people your writing, photography, graphic, and drawing talents.

For High School students, journalism is a way to gain real life experiences. I mean ya, there are other ways to do that at Mason, like the bank and the store (which are both awesome by the way), but the journalism class at Mason allows you to make a product just like any other newspaper. Journalism class allows you to gain leadership, time management, writing skills, communication skills, and so much more. Where else would you be able to gain all of that?

 English classes prepare you for college classes. But journalism prepares you for life.

Faith in Fate

I don’t believe in big foot, or unicorns, or fairies. I like to put my faith into fate changers.

So I’ve always believed in miracles, and signs, and karma.

But I haven’t always believed in God.

I have always found God to be a hard concept to understand. As a kid, I was almost “censored” in what I heard about God, I only heard the good stuff that he did. The problem was, as a kid, I knew that the world wasn’t always a good place. Which posed the question of, “how could God let that happen?” I remember asking that question, but I don’t remember getting an answer. Now maybe I did, and I just simply don’t remember it.  But something like that, which puzzled through my mind, is something I’m pretty sure I would have remembered.

Until about a year and a half ago, I never understood the point of believing in God. I mean, I was a good person wasn’t I? If heaven was real, I certainly would get in, wouldn’t I?

Now looking back on that, a year and a half later and a believer of God, I realize how almost selfish of me that was. That was like asking to stay in a stranger’s home: sure, maybe they’d let me. But did I really want to take the risk? I want to deserve to stay in their house: I want to work hard, get to know them, and respect their wishes. I didn’t know God then. I didn’t work hard to go to Heaven. I didn’t even know His wishes, much less respect them. When I started to look at it this way, my beliefs started to change.

A year and a half ago, my best friend invited me to Youth Group. Honestly, I have no idea what changed my mind, because initially I didn’t want to go. I have been to other churches and other youth groups before. But in the past, they would almost belittle me because of the lack of knowledge I had about God or Jesus or Moses or Hannah or anyone. Just going to the church/ youth group was a big step for me, but when I got there, people would ask me factual questions about The Bible, ask me what my favorite story was, ask me if I liked Psalms or John better. I had felt like an idiot every time I went to my other friend’s youth groups.

So that’s why it surprised my mom, and quite frankly me, when I choose to go to youth group with my best friend that night a year and a half ago.

When I arrived at the Church, everyone was warm and welcoming, asking me my name and what school I went to. After about an hour of socializing, we split into groups to talk about a story in The Bible. I don’t remember which story it was anymore, but I remember I had so many questions listed up in my mind. And I didn’t want to ask them. These people around me had been in the church their whole lives; they knew what they were talking about. I didn’t. I didn’t want to look like an idiot; I didn’t want to ask a question that was obviously right there on the pages. But I did anyway. I asked and they were kind and gave a good answer, they explained it thoroughly in a way where I could understand it, not by referencing other stories in The Bible. That’s when I knew I wanted to learn more about God. He had always been a foreign figure to me. The reason always seemed to because of God. “Oh God did this” “He did this too” “and that over there”. But I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know how to get to know him. I didn’t have the patience to just sit down and read The Bible. I didn’t even know where to begin. But I had finally found a place that explained who He was. In other places, God was God. Oh you know, he did all of these amazing things. You know? He’s God. So of course I didn’t know him. I knew his name, not his story.

That first day of youth group I felt a connection with God. It was such a unique feeling. I had a drive to get to know him. I wanted to learn more about him. And at the same time, I knew he already knew me.

About 9 months after my first experience with God, I made the choice to be baptized by my best friend, the same one who first took me to youth group. At some point, I started crying. I don’t even know why I was really crying, I was just really overwhelmed, and I got really embarrassed. But once I was baptized, people started coming up to me crying, welcoming me. I didn’t know what they meant at first. What do you mean welcome? Where was I welcomed to?  I realized later that they were talking about Heaven.

Three months after I was baptized, was the church’s “birthday party”, and my youth pastor thought it would be interesting if I shared my story at open mic. So with shakes hands, I went up to the microphone and read the poem I had prepared.

“260 weeks ago axis was formed.

260 weeks ago I didn’t know God.

Actually 54 weeks ago I didn’t know God.

53 weeks ago I hesitantly went to youth group for the first with my best friend.

51 weeks ago I went to church for the first time in 7 years with my best friend and her family

51 weeks ago something inside of me changed forever. I had felt a presence that I had never felt before.

50 weeks ago I went to church a second time

49 weeks a third

48 weeks a forth and so on and so forth

Week after week I began to gradually change as a person.

It’s so indescribable the chance that started in me 53 weeks ago.

43 weeks ago I spent my first Christmas as a believer in Christ.

I will never look at Christmas the same way.

What used to be a time for me to be greedy became a time for me to accept and find Christ and to appreciate everything He has given me.

42 weeks ago I made a silent New Year’s resolution to become stronger in my faith. I’d like to think I am succeeding in that goal.

30 weeks ago I pulled an all-nighter with my youth group at the YMC, I ended up breaking my finger, but we all learned a power message on forgiveness.

16 weeks ago I was baptized into Christ by my best friend.

14 weeks ago I stepped out of my comfort zone by going to “church camp” for the first time.

8 weeks ago youth group started again, where I have grown comfortable to share my opinions and experiences with people who I have grown so close with.

Whether it’s years.





However long you’ve known Christ, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve known him.

The important part is the fact that you know him at all.

I can’t even begin to describe the change I saw and the change I felt after meeting Christ.

I felt powerful.

I felt respected.

I felt intelligent, courageous.

I felt alive.

God gave me life.

But knowing God makes me feel alive.”

I’m 17. I still have a lot to learn about a lot of things. But I’m 17 and I have found God. It’s been about a year and a half since I have meet with God for the first time, but in those five hundred-ish days, God has checked in on me numerous times. Providing miracles when all seems hopeless. Sending me signs when I’m feeling sad. Even showing me good things come to good people.

I believe in fate changers.

I believe in God.

FriendsGiving: Axis's youth group thanksgiving celebration

FriendsGiving: Axis’s youth group thanksgiving celebration

My best friend and me after my baptism.

My best friend and me after my baptism.

Celebrating my baptism with the youth group

Celebrating my baptism with the youth group

Church Camp's theme of collide

Church Camp’s theme of collide

Axis youth group at church camp in South Carolina

Axis youth group at church camp in South Carolina

My best friend and I at church camp

My best friend and I at church camp

Church Camp: Superhero style

Church Camp: Superhero style

The last day of youth group 2014

The last day of youth group 2014

Cinema Psychos

Every Thursday night, at 10/9 central, I watch as innocent people are followed into their condos, or their cars, or even their work place.

As I am watching, the pitch black sky is thrashing against the window, the wind is making an  eerie melody with the haunting music whistling out of the television set in front of me, all while a few sets of dark eyes are staring directly at me. A chill crawls up my spine. It’s only five minutes in, but I still feel disturbed by the grotesque images of people being burned alive and viewing the psychopaths dressed up as demonic clowns chasing people down the street.

It’s Thursday night, and the newest episode of Stalker has me creeping me to the edge of my seat, wide-eyed and anticipating their next victim.

There are a great range of horror movies and TV shows out there; some, like The Exorsist, claim they are based off of “true paranormal” events, others, like Eaten Alive, are based off of actual murderers, and then you have the ones like The Human Centipede, where the story was created from the mind of the writer. For those who are unfamiliar with the plot of The Human Centipede, it is a very graphic, grotesque, and disturbing movie about a man who kidnaps people, and then sews them together to make, well, a human centipede.

I know that the liklihood of this happening to me is slim to none.  I know these are just movies.  But watching these movies makes you wonder about the sanity of the writer Yes. They are just movies, mostly fictional. But someone made them up. Someone took the time to plan these murders seemingly perfectly in order to film them. Someone came up with the idea for the movie. Someone researched different ways to realistically kill someone; they researched ways to torture, slaughter, burn, stalk, kidnap, abuse…

Horror movies don’t scare me.

Their writers do.

Seeing the Black and Blue

imageThe dress.
I mean everyone knows what I’m talking about. Blue and black or white and gold. Sure. It was a fad that happened about 2 weeks ago. But it’s coming back. No no, not really about the debate of what color it is- but more of an eye opening idea.
A picture of a woman wearing an obvious white and gold dress is lying down on her side. There’s a catch- she’s covered in black and blue, bruises that is.
“Why is it so hard to see black and blue”
These words are haunting. The abused woman in the photo represents the many abused women out there.
“One in six women are a victim of abuse. That’s no illusion.”
It poses the question of the amount of abused women out there, some right under our noses.
I commend the creators of this campaign, the Salvation Army. What an inspiring and creative way to bring up the topic of abuse by mixing it in with something that filled social media. The topic of the dress itself really has no purpose, just creating petty debates between two people on what color they saw.
But now there is substance to it. There’s a reason to talk about the dress.


Big foot, or big hoax

For some reason it is socially unacceptable to believe in unicorns and fairies, but it’s popular to believe in Bigfoot. What. Even though unicorns and fairies may involve magic, there is about the same real hardcore evidence that supports their ‘realness’. Which is none. There is no hardcore evidence to prove that Bigfoot isn’t a big hoax.
What is commonly believed about Bigfoot is that he lives on land — mostly in wooded areas — has the figure of a man, is extremely hairy and has large feet. Okay. So the fact that he lives on land extremely limits the possibilities of where this ‘Bigfoot’ could even live. It’s not like the ocean, where man has barely begun to scratch the surface of finding new creatures. Apparently Pennsylvania has a lot of people claiming to have seen Bigfoot. But they don’t have any proof. They could have just seen a hairy lady for all we know. And the pictures they manage to take are always so incredibly awful, either too grainy or blurry. People can take a perfectly clear picture of a hummingbird’s wing while flapping, and you’re telling me that someone can’t take a picture of bigfoot running away. I mean he’s supposedly huge, he can’t run faster than a hummingbird’s wing flapping. Pictures now a day aren’t even that reliable, the amount of Photoshopped images acting like ‘real pictures’ is crazy. So even if you do have a picture of Bigfoot, it’s Photoshopped or a even is a costume.
I don’t think Bigfoot is supposed to be immortal either. What I mean is that Bigfoot follows the same cycle of life we do, ending in death. So please tell me where all the dead Bigfoots are. Or would it be Bigfeet? Once you die you don’t just disappear. My driving instructor and I had a discussion about that, and he believes that dead Bigfeet are buried by other Bigfeet.There are a couple of flaws in the plan though. We live in an expanding world. We dig up forest all the time. If Bigfoot was really real, and is buried when dead by others of his kind, then we would have most likely found a body or bones from an unexplainably large mammal. The other thing wrong with the theory is that it assumes that the Bigfoot clan travels in a pack, making them even more likely to be found. And in every Bigfoot picture I have seen, the beast is by itself.
Last year, on the news they talked about the hunter who “found Bigfoot”, but the test done on the creature didn’t prove anything. In fact, the hunter had a reputation with fake Bigfoot findings. oh my god A few years back he tried to convince people that a rubber Bigfoot costume was truly the real Bigfoot.
I believe in a lot of things. I think aliens are out there roaming the stars. I think there could be a humanoid fish that could be considered a mermaid. The main problem with Bigfoot is where he roams. Aliens could be real because we haven’t had the technology to fully expand upon our search of the galaxies. Mermaids could exist because we have only explored five percent of the oceans. But humans have roamed the earth for a long time now. We have made our mark and have dug up and changed the land. Surely if there was a Bigfoot, with the amount of people looking for him, we would have found him already.