#survialofthefittest

[marlonicole]

At times there are only two decisions to be made: 1) Wash your hands of the situation, or 2) Fight. Survival of the fittest! Darwin v. Mobb Deep 💪🏽👊🏽 #naturalselection #beastmode #queen #bossbabe #survialofthefittest #darwin #mood #motivationalquotes #thursdaythoughts #speaker #keynote

[thenaturaleye]

Last year i was fortunate enough to witness close up an eagle attack on a floundering Sea Gull. Warning some of this images may not be suitable for some. Mother nature is brutal, but there is also beauty in to as well. #burtalmothernature #baldeagle #cycleoflife #nationalgeographic #wildside #survialofthefittest

[the-modern-icon]

We hope you're out and about getting stronger with your pack this weekend. (ft. An original bespoke 2" Rigid Collar lined in @horweenleather Essex) #modernicon #handmade #leathercraft #repost @thirdeye_k9 ・・・ Young #dutchie @dyas_k9 @bettertogether_k9 @modernicon1 #survialofthefittest #wyoming PC: @highwayphotography

[040506jb]

Flint,MI Survival tools🙄 #FlintMI #Britasportwaterbottle #survialofthefittest

[djmachete]

@mobbdeepqb got them shook, cuz there ain't no such thing as halfway crooks! #mobbdeep #infamous #hiphop #survialofthefittest #90shiphop #theElRey #losangeles (at El Rey)

[stewslife]

Today... #riderscompany #tired #longday #stoked #grassroots #bmx #sponsorship #programme #workhard #survialofthefittest #downhill #enduro

[kaleymccormack]

A Boy Named Devin

Devin wasn't "cool".  It was seventh grade and we were all fighting for recognition, for status, for some place of acceptance.  Even if that place meant that we blended in, like camouflage.  Sometimes flying under the radar was the best place to be.  Not cool, not a nerd, just a nobody.  I can't imagine what kind of skill that must take to be someone like that.  So even tempered, so relaxed, so patient.  I was not even tempered, nor relaxed, or patient, definitely not under the radar.  I was, to talking, as the sun is to the sky.  One.  We were one.  My desk was relocated to the front of the class on several occasions, or placed parallel to, or touching my teacher's desk.  I never understood why I was the one moved, I WAS ALWAYS SINGLED OUT (Redhead syndrome).  I can remember a specific time.  Sixth Grade, Mr. Jackson's class.  Whitney, Ashley, and I were sitting next to each other.  Of course we were all giggling and talking about God knows what, but I remember trying SO badly to keep quiet.  I had been warned, "Miss McCormack, this is your last warning, ya here?" (read that with a STRONG southern accent).  I knew I needed to behave, but these were my besties and they were cracking me up, they were setting me up.  Handing me little gifts, a comics dream is to be set up, they would say something and I knew I was the one intended for the punchline.  So, I did it.  I took the bait.  And with the bait came, the relocation of the desk.  Fine.  New real estate.  At first I thought it was awful, until I learned I was facing the class.  The lights got brighter and the curtain swung open, I was on stage.  My first real stage.  Well, besides when I was one of Joseph's sheep in our Easter performance at my Catholic Preschool.  I was pissed.  I deserved the role of Joseph, but whatever.   So, I'm facing the class.  Dumb.  Don't give the "talker" the "class clown" the gift of facing the entire audience/class.  Stupid y'all.  It was a treat every time they moved my desk.  In my mind I succeeded.  I had made enough laughter to relocate to the stage.  Needless to say, I didn't "fly" under the radar.  I had a lot of fun.  I engaged with anyone and everyone.  I wasn't the girl with the natural athletic talent, nor was I the girl with the golden hair and sun tanned legs, but I was cute enough, played sports, did school plays, and was funny.  I didn't blend in and I also wasn't teased.  Slightly teased for having red hair, but I could handle that. 

Devin, wasn't like me.  He was the kid who came to school not in his finest clothes.  Not always with the freshest hair.  He was the kid that stood out because he wasn't perfection.  He wasn't "tidy".  Devin in the 7th grade, was me at 24 living in Chicago.  Rolling into work at 10:00 a.m. still drunk and greasy from the night before.  I worked at an Irish Pub in Chicago, so this was slightly acceptable.  With enough makeup/dry shampoo, I could fix this.  The problem is, I might roll in wearing the exact same shirt I worked in yesterday, that I also slept in that night.  This isn't right, but it happened.  But, because I was an adult and I could say, "Look shit happens, I didn't go home last night", I could get away with it.  Again, I worked at an Irish Pub, there were many days when Courtney and Bri would walk in wearing the same outfits too.  But, we would joke about it, no one judged anyone.  

This got me thinking.  Sometimes kids like Devin would come to school wearing the same outfit over and over again.  And of course we would all have an opinion about it.  Make a statement or a joke.  But, shit, maybe Devin had a long night.  Maybe he didn't go home from school as planned to an awesome dinner, warm shower, and cozy bed.  Who knows, maybe his family didn't have a washer/dryer.  Maybe he had a late night too, like my 24 year old self.  Maybe he fell asleep in those clothes at 3:00 a.m. and woke up in a hurry to catch the bus.  I don't know.  I never asked.  Point is, he was judged.  And so wrongfully.  I was so lucky that my girlfriends didn't judge me.  They accepted me and laughed it off, because they loved me.  But, who loved Devin?  Who was there to "laugh it off" with Devin?  I'm sure our teachers were helpful.  But, teachers are like bosses.  They matter because they're "rulers", but they aren't "one of us".  Again, who was there for Devin?  I know I didn't sit with him at lunch.  I don't know who did.  I know he had friends.  I know there were people that he related to and people who he felt comfortable with.  And he did talk to me, so in a way, looking back I feel privileged.  Devin talked to me.  I guess he felt safe enough to talk to me.  I recently looked at our "Mutual Friends" on Facebook.  I thought we would have several.  We don't.  It's only a few. People that I guess he felt gave him the time of day.  And by "time of day" I mean, a nice "hello", an acknowledgment. Devin sat in class with his head down most days.  Sometimes he would over hear a conversation between other kids and try to contribute.  This one time I remember some of the "cool" kids were joking and laughing about something, everyone adding on their piece of the joke to make more laughter.  We were all talking on top of each other.  I remember Devin sitting there and by default due to the seating chart, he was part of the conversation, so he too felt like he should interject.  Devin added on, making his little joke.  The laughter quickly came to a halt.  Everyone held their breath.  Who's going to be the one to shoot him down?  We all knew what was coming.  "Shut up Devin", that cool kid said, and then the laughter started again.  But, this time it was at him.  Devin became the joke.   I want to go back in time.  I want to say more than, "Guys..." in attempt to shut my friends up.  I want to put an end to it.  I want to protect Devin and help him.  I want to be strong enough not to be friends with those jerks.  I want to ask Devin if he is okay.  I want to tell him I'm not perfect either.  That I put on a good act.  That I can be his friend, that he can trust me.  He can confide in me and laugh with me.  I want to go back to that classroom and hug him.  I'm sure as a 27 year old man, he would like to go back and hug his 12 year old self too.  Tell himself that life gets better, that he'll be okay.  To cry if he needed to cry, but to save his tears for something that matters.  Because, these jerks and their opinions, don't matter.  I want that little boy's pain to go away.  I want him to play dodgeball with the rest of us and not get picked last.  I want him to sit at our lunch table and laugh with us.  I want him to be invited to birthday parties.  And I want to sit next to him in the bleachers at football games, cheering for our school.  Rather than being pushed up against a locker and having his books knocked out of his hands.  Rather than having his hair be filled with gum, candy, rubber bands, anything and everything.  Devin said, "I felt like a piece of trash that was on the ground, flowing in the wind", just waiting to land and be stepped on again. I don't know your story.  You don't know mine.  We keep our "home life" on lock down.  Especially as kids, those details don't leave us.  We refuse for anyone to learn that our parents aren't "normal".  God forbid the "Bible Belt Children" learn my mom likes her wine or that my father is an alcoholic.  Here's the thing, as kids, we want nothing more than to conform, as adults, we want nothing more than to be individuals.  I didn't come from a normal household.  I didn't have the "picturesque" southern home, like most of my friends.   I came from Chicago, now I'm in the south, I had no way to relate.  I wasn't Baptist, I didn't know what a gravel road was, and I only saw cows at petting zoo's.  It was difficult.  I hear people say they're "country" or love "country life", but true "country life" is a lot a gravel roads, cow patty's, everyone being cousins with everyone, lawn chairs, clothes lines, and the luxury of a WalMart.  Which I now understand, and appreciate, but for a long time I didn't.   I didn't fit in when I first moved to North Carolina.  I was made fun of for being Catholic, because apparently that meant I worshiped Mary... At 12 my Dad said, "Kaley it's time to get confirmed"  I said, "No, I don't want to be Catholic anymore".  Dad heard my reasonings and said, "Okay".  I had valid points that I still stand behind, however, the problem was my main reasoning was about conformity.  I wanted to be a Baptist.  I'm not saying all Baptists are wrong, I'm just saying organized religion altogether is a little ridiculous.  Believe.  Practice in your own way and believe.  Why do we create "rights and wrongs" for how one believes and worships?  Enough.  It's all manmade.  All those rules were made by man.  So, since you are "man" just decide your way of worshiping.  However, at this point, I thought Baptists seemed to have a lot more fun.  Trips to theme parks, bon fires, potlucks, stuff like that.  Kaley's in.  Sign me up.    

I think about having children one day.  I think about the love I have for my boys, my nephews, and the thought of them getting teased at school brings a lot of blood to my face.  I love them more than I love myself, their life in my eyes matters more than mine.  They are everything in this world to me.  At age 5, Patrick is smarter than I am.  Little Victor-Grant has sass like no other, and Jude, well, Jude is the purest form of humanity.  He is a baby.  Babies don't know better, so they just feel and do what they want.  He has no filter.  This is the best observation time to view another human.  Jude is Heaven.  He laughs when you tell him no and he bites your toes because it feels good.  But, the thought of someone hurting them the way Devin was hurt makes me angry.  Angry is not strong enough.  My face gets hot and tears well up.  My skin gets tight, my jaw tense.  Thinking of the kind of pain a child can go through due to other children scares me.  Because, again children don't have many filters.  I often say things like, "I hope I have a 'nerd'", because I fear the opposite.  I never want my kid to be the "bully" or the "popular" one, who fears standing up for what's right due to his status.  I cannot have a Geoffrey (Game of Thrones ref. sorry...).  

Devin seems to be happy.  He is with his family in Florida.  He is an uncle, so he can relate to the love I have for my boys.  He seems okay.  And thank God.  I don't know all the details.  What it must have felt like to be him.  Probably dreading school and every face there.  It sickens me.  Truly, I look back on those days when we were in class together and it breaks my heart.  Devin was just one of those many students, who you all know, that were put down for no reason other than status.  When you put people down, it upped your status and lowered theirs.  Like a dog marking a tree, or a fire hydrant, or a car tire.  Those people are nothing more than dogs who know no better.  Or maybe they do know better and they're just assholes.  But, a lot of times the "bully" has an untold story that holds some pain.   

I'm sorry Devin.  I'm sorry I didn't say more.  And I'm sorry you ever had to hurt.  I'm sorry that we are all so selfish that we concentrate on survival of the fittest.  I'm sorry that I was secretly relieved I wasn't in your shoes.  But, I promise you, I got your back.  I had it then, I just didn't have all the tools yet to prove it.  I tried.  I have a full tool belt now and I can do much better.  Live your life and be happy.  Push for happy every day and know that you are incredible for surviving the battle field you were thrown into.  More than incredible, you're a badass.  I wish you would have had more support, more help, in the trenches, we know as school.  But, you survived.  And that's huge.  Take your story and tackle the world.  

So to you Devin, love.love.