Vanished Morality

At first, it was the story of the deranged parent that killed innocent children. Then, a young man. Then, it was revealed that young man, Adam Lanza, killed not only children and teachers, but his mother as well. It was revealed it could have been Aspberger's Syndrome that contributed to his behavior. The story continued to unravel as one of the most disturbing in history.

We experienced breaches in ethics and morality, not in the sense of just politics, life and journalism. We saw everything go to hell today. We saw the worst that humanity can be. The tale of a deranged man committing a senseless crime, killing children that won't have a future now.

We experienced the man who leads this country grieve in front of us all.

The Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre, perhaps now the newest standard in school shootings, is now one of the deadliest killing sprees in history. It possesses so many layers of wrongdoing. Killing young children, mental illness, gun control...you name it, we're all furious. That includes the leader of this country, Barack Obama.

Whether or not it's the right time to bite and claw after gun control doesn't matter. Something has to give. It's not just coincidence that deranged people come into contact with lethal force. The ban may or may not work...after all, I put forth the kid and the cookie analogy in my last post with this subject.

Perhaps what really needs to happen is that people with mental illness need to learn that there are resources out there for them to improve and live normal lives. I suffered through depression for a tremendous amount of time. I truly think it ruined my childhood almost completely. 

But here I am, I'm alive, well, and working towards a dream. Sometimes the anxiety comes back, but I find a way to fight through.

I know my situation doesn't encompass all. There is just help to be had.

I had words, but to be honest, I lost them. I feel like I don't have any more to give. Today was indescribable. A day that will go down as one of the more darker days in history.

The Past in Present

I experienced some strange sensations today.

There's a supermarket near my house. Since it's so close to where I live, a lot of people I knew from high school frequent the place. These are people I haven't talked to in years, or people I just don't want to talk to for various reasons. Yet for whatever reason, sometimes I do end up chatting, or sometimes I feign ignorance and don't say a word.

I thought about something. I knew I was actually friends and then eventually Facebook friends with these people at some point. Then I remember...I haven't seen or heard a thing from this person in ages. Turns out they've unfriended me. They've cast me aside in their life. I wondered why for a fleeting moment, because things were so good at one point. Things change so fast.

I walked around with the same scowl as I did back then. It's a stoic look. A defense mechanism against people who, at some point, could take advantage of me. This look and attitude said no more. I had no idea where it came from. I haven't been like that in years. It just kind of...happened.

I had no intention of talking to this person I really liked at one point. He was a good guy. Someone who really helped in getting a school business off the ground, gaining massive profits for the entire class. Someone I talked to in orchestra because he was a gamer like me. Things changed so much that I just didn't talk to him. He didn't acknowledge me either. It's like we never knew each other.

I may be in broadcasting, but as a part of my degree, I had to learn and write about communication theory—the science and paradigms behind why we communicate with each other the way we do. I discovered almost doomsday-centric research studies predicting we're headed for a social meltdown. We won't be able to express each other because of the way we communicate now.

I know people come and go. I've seen people I've talked to for ages on other social media avenues just outright leave, never to speak with me ever again. It's sad. We just change so much, and then don't express ourselves to each other the way we did in the past. The present just feels awkward and disjointed. I don't feel like I have many sincere relationships anymore.

Even when I do catch up with someone who may have known me, and things may have been good then, sometimes I forget who they are entirely. I just speak for the sake of speaking. I tell them what I've been up to. I can tell they don't care. They're only talking to me because it's happenstance. It's not sincere. It's merely formality.

I have a friend that is now working in Missouri. At one point, he told me he was unsure about that journey. I almost wondered how awesome it must be to completely start over. It must be amazing to meet new people and forge actual, sincere relationships that aren't awkward or disjointed. There wouldn't be a past holding you back. There would be a present to keep you moving.

I feel uninspired and unchallenged. I find myself needing a restart button. College was a good start, but a new job or a move is next. I need an atmosphere that inspires me...a view out my window that says I live here. This is my place in the world.

I want a new beginning. I want a present I can be proud of without a past I'm not proud of holding me back.

Unfavorable

We were warned about it years ago. If you go into this industry, be prepared for a long layover of nothing. Then once you get there, be prepared to make nothing.

I'm pretty much making close to nothing to broadcast games already. I love what I do, though. I do it for the people that do listen or watch, even if it's for just one person. A hockey game I did last weekend had only eight viewers. Not only do I improve as a broadcaster by doing it, but I learn that nothing worth doing comes easily.

You find yourself against a situation where you just wouldn't want to do it. Your team is getting smacked down, losing by 60 points in 30 degree weather, wind blowing in your face for four hours while you attempt and describe how the fans are furious, how the coaches sitting next to you are furious, and how the team looks listless. All positive things, certainly.

You find yourself looking at the viewer count of an online hockey game staying at eight. You want it to be 30. 30 is a good, average day. But it stays at eight. You wonder, what in the world else can I do? But you keep going. You do it for those eight people, because they care. You do it for the undeserved recognition from the people that care.

There are times you just have people around you that think you're somehow the best at what you do. Overwhelmingly so. In fact, at the latest game, a new group of parents pulled me aside to tell me they don't know what they would do without me. I bring them in, make them laugh, and hopefully lead them to victory. It's something I've never heard before then.

I sometimes wish they had perspective, though. I've said it before...I'm waiting for someone to say that I suck at what I do to my face. Not over Twitter, not over social networking, not through competition judging sheets, but to my face. You are a horrible broadcaster. Then I would have something to fight for. Fighting for "you're great" has almost made me take my foot off of the gas.

Sparse opportunity exists out there to change things. I'm looking for that next challenge. Faster hockey, something really professional, larger viewership or listenership, fans that want to know things...a place where I can be an authority on a team or a situation. Somewhere I'm the go-to. Somewhere that I'm the man.

I'm the farthest thing from egotistical, and the last person that will tell you I'm great at what I do. I feel like I'm constantly trying to improve. I look to my peers to figure out new ways to do things. I'm new to this whole thing in a way. Most times I just take the opinions gracefully with a thank you, and remind myself there is work to be done.

I'm hoping that the next wave of applications I sent out will lead to something. If not, it could be a while until I'm in that position. Honestly, it has been a trying wait. I check every day, only to find nothing new, or nothing obtainable. It's frustrating.

I have to be grateful for what I have, and work off of that. It's an unfavorable path in an unfavorable business. It was my choice, and I intend to do something with it.

Battlefield

"The Internet has become a weapon. Our schools have become a battleground."

These were words spoken by Jennifer Livingston of WKBT of La Crosse, Wisconsin. She had received a scathing email from a viewer about her apparent obesity, and how it was a bad message towards the majority wanting to live a healthy lifestyle. No matter how unbelievably stupid the motivation behind the message, it caused Livingston to go all out on this attacker.

It's true—the Internet is a weapon, and schools are a battleground, but if there was something we could have done to change these trends, we would have thought of it by now. Schools have started to implement diversity training, but through personal experience and hearing others talk about their experience doing it, it was a "waste of time."

I distinctly remember a moment in junior high school, where the teachers implemented a bullying prevention class during study hall. As someone who was bullied throughout pretty much my entire tenure in any educational institution, hearing someone next to me say "this doesn't happen" simply made me so angry. It may be one of the most silent wars being fought out there.

I was talking with someone on Saturday about my disappointment with how people acted, but I keep saying that if I didn't face that, I wouldn't have the character I possess today. Perhaps this blemish on society exists for that express reason. She told me "just remember, those people amount to nothing."

What Livingston says at the end of this video holds a lot of value. We shouldn't let what people say about us determine our value.

The problem with the concept of bullying is that is an insurmountable obstacle. I have read more than enough peer-reviewed journal articles in communication and biology journals about the issue. On one hand, we can continue to implement this diversity training, and teach our teachers and professors to take action, but no matter what action we take, it doesn't stop.

Bullies can come from varied living conditions, and most of that contributes to their behavior. They can be rich kids with a skewed perception of peoples' worth. They can be abused children that need a release. They can be the product of bad living conditions and temptations. Whatever the case may be, the consequences that the school systems dole out do absolutely nothing.

Detentions and suspensions give the student what they want. You tell me what student wouldn't enjoy missing class. You tell me what student wouldn't want to sit with his fellow troublemakers in the same room. Keeping them away from everything teaches them nothing. I'm not one to condone violence like old Catholic schools in the 50s would do, but that seemed to be the only deterrent.

Maybe having your mouth washed out with soap would be the only way to never do it again.

Maybe bullying has to exist, or else people can't develop into grown adults that can earn the character they live with.

Maybe that's just the way it is...maybe growing up is meant to be a battlefield in which nobody wins.

Fake

Anonymity screws up a lot of things. In the business of journalism, it ruins everything, unless you are a protected source under shield laws. Anonymous rumor reporting, most famously started by Eklund of HockeyBuzz.com, drew a lot of fanfare for doing something different. His use of a false identity, and the reporting of anything and everything that happened behind the scenes was enticing.

Shame how his reputation continued to falter as his rumor reporting hit the single digit percent of how right he was. This should have been the only lesson to the next wave of rumormongers, but it taught nobody. Incarcerated Bob, Manayunk Mike, NHLSourcesSay, and the enigma of all enigmas, Hockeyy Insiderr, have ruined Twitter this summer. After staying so quiet for so long, they have instantly appeared on the scene, and it's frankly annoying.

I always sided with bloggers. I suppose it makes sense that I would side with the faction I belong to. I've been a blogger since 2008. I remember when we all raged when the New York Rangers decreed that no bloggers will be allowed into the locker room post game. We all raged when the mainstream media, better known as MSM, turned their noses high at us. They didn't understand new media. They didn't understand that those who used it well could use it better than those with established positions.

What I failed to take into account is how much more MSM journalists have to put up with. How much their name is put on everything. If they make a mistake, or conduct themselves unprofessionally just once, they could lose their job, be sued, and find themselves with zero credibility for the future job search, should it come to that.

After learning with that, I couldn't help but want to side with MSM, even if they get annoying sometimes.

Part of that stems from a certain trend that has started with a rumor breaker that only goes by Hockeyy Insiderr. Honestly, his Twitter life goes a little something like that like this. He tweets everything he hears, meaning not everything he says is correct. He then brags to respected MSM members such as Bob McKenzie, Darren Dreger, among others, and tells them how great he is for being right. If he's wrong, oh, don't worry, he won't suffer a thing for it. After all, he's anonymous. No one can fire him, tell him he is out of line, or anything.

It makes me absolutely sick.

If Dreger or McKenzie made the mistakes that Insiderr has made throughout his entire career as a "trade breaker", then the TSN crew would be devoid of credibility, and perhaps out of a job. I don't think it's anything close to fair that Insiderr can get away with just about anything he wants to, simply because he's anonymous.

Insiderr was a guest on a podcast with another rumor monger named Incarcerated Bob. He revealed he was a 37 year old player who was drafted into the NHL in 1993. Rumor has it he is Alexandre Daigle, or perhaps Adam Deadmarsh. The point is, this shouldn't matter. If he wants to be a real man about breaking rumors, then he should show the world his real face. It's outright sad that his own family doesn't know that he has taken up this self-righteous character.

Additionally, last night, Insiderr broke a rumor posted by someone else that Wayne Gretzky had a heart attack. Not only is this absolutely devoid of ethics without having it confirmed, but it's outright wrong, period. You don't do that if you're a respected journalist. And that's the difference between him and the respected journalists all over the world, working for the common man to know the issues of the world.

This insider, and other anonymous ones everywhere are a blight to actual journalism. I doubt the man behind the Insiderr character has not once had any training in journalism. He thought he could be something special by being anonymous. Kudos to you, you've gained quite a following. But know this. You are no journalist, and you should quit doing this while you're ahead.

Real journalists will be right in the end. #CONFIRMED.

Social Networking? More like Social Annihilation.

Different people like sports for different reasons. Most of the time it's a social event, getting together over a couple of cold ones to forget about life, root for a common cause, and according to some research I've read, get away from women. Whether that last part is true or not, sometimes the practice of watching sports makes fans passionate in one way or another.

Passion is all well and good until it becomes outright stupidity. With the advent of social networking and the gravity that it holds as a 24/7, 365 place of discussion, this marketplace of ideas has become an overpopulated haven for hate and disdain due to simple statements held by just about anyone. Opinion leaders, media members, people of interest and even fellow peers are all easy targets for hate that simply should not exist.

These arguments could be over subjects as simple as word choice, an opinion with plenty of validity (or not), and hot button issues. Social networking has given everyone in the world a pedestal about any issue. Sometimes certain people shouldn't be given this pedestal due to the hatred that they possess for their fellow man, granted a false sense of power over some new social norms that mean absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Gaining following on Twitter early on is tough. Some newbies put out tremendous ideas as well as make respectful, constructive conversation with others. Then, they hit the point when they find the power. The idea that 1,000 people subscribe to their ideas earned them some sort of distinction. They turn violently from respectful towards their peers to high and mighty. Their ideas become indestructible.

Those who oppose these supposed new "opinion leaders" become the bad guys—the "haters" that seek to win some sort of territorial battle of which there is no territory to win, and no battle to win either. It's pointless chatter that in the grand scheme of things, means absolutely nothing. It's speculation.

Social networking has completely killed our social norms. I had a conversation with someone a month ago about how we are truly glued to our devices. It's true. I'm no different. I do place a lot of value in being connected to the world, to stay on top of things and try and be a respected voice in life. I try my best to be respectful to others. I don't think too much of my follower count, or how much I tweet.

However, we've hit a point where the Internet is a battleground. Sometimes it's hard to stay respectful towards people who aren't respectful towards you. It's hard to stay close to the morals we were taught as kids. We're forced to defend ourselves, to assert our territory that we simply don't have. Why do we have to fight? Why can't we come to an understanding?

I find that last question comes up a lot in the scope of my life, but it's true. Why can't we? Why do we have to fight over something that isn't even close to in our control? Whether or not Shea Weber's deal would be matched by Nashville, whether or not Obamacare is a good idea, whether or not Lebron James is worth all the hype that he receives, whether or not we should vote for one candidate or the other, the controversies in life breed hate because of this pedestal that all of us are granted.

Twitter dangerously asks "What's happening?" Facebook more perilously asks "What's on your mind?" This is simply bait into the hateful discussion. This isn't social networking. It's social annihilation. Friendships are ruined more-so than gained over constant connection. I've found that no one cares about the instagrammed picture of your burger and fries. Nobody cares about your song lyrics. There's no need to know.

I've run through my mind almost endlessly, "what is my purpose on Twitter?" "Who am I broadcasting to? The hockey fan? The person who likes my perspective?" I asked a few professional broadcasters about what they think their role is. They didn't really have a solid answer. I guess it's kind of a personal discovery.

I have a challenge for people. If you don't agree, don't attack. Discuss. If you don't particularly like someone, don't belittle. Try to come to an understanding. There's no territory to be gained or argument to be won here. Followers are arbitrary. We know people buy them to make them look big. They aren't. There is no proof in follower count. Only in character.

At this point, social networking is impossible to avoid. It's here, and will forever be here. We'll always be connected from this point forward. I don't think its creators believed it could be this bad, but it has hit  a tipping point. Is there a need for gatekeeping? Is there a need to remove people because of hateful content? Perhaps we give our First Amendment rights here in America too little respect.

I know this sounds pontificating, and honestly, this is simply my perspective. But I see social norms crumbling, I see friendships being destroyed, I see connections being ruined because of a mindless sense of territory. There is no need for this. Truly.

Displaced Hate

This is an excerpt from Stephen Christian's blog post, "how very fragile." on modesty.blogspot.com.

"Sometimes I let my mind wander to the events of the day of a person who loses their life. They wake up, like every other day and brush their teeth, put on their favorite t-shirt, have a bowl of cereal, and on their way to work they stop at the gas station to fill up. Then it happens. Out of nowhere, and when they woke up just hours before they had no idea."

Scary.

This was the reality for several people in Aurora, Colorado, as during the midnight premiere of The Dark Knight Rises, a gunman by the name of James Holmes shot and killed 12 people, as well as injuring 38 others. Lives, changed. Families, broken. Faith, shaken.

Holmes reportedly wore a bulletproof vest, donned a gas mask, and shot with a rifle and two handguns. So now, the media bites. It's near Columbine, it's about gun control, it's about affected youth, it's about the families, the sadness, the hate, the lunacy, and the completely unfortunate circumstances behind it all.

One victim's name came to the forefront early. Her name, Jessica Ghawi. She went by Jessica Redfield on Twitter. She planned to be a sports journalist, described as an "amazing...vivacious person" by herfriend Natalie Tejeda on CNN's Newsroom this afternoon. People that knew her on Twitter talked about how she had all the skills to become a prominent figure in the future.

I'm sure she did. To those who work hard, go above and beyond and who strive to be the best, that's when people recognize personal drive. Tejeda talked about how Ghawi's motto was that she wasn't here to come in second or third place. She wanted to be the best. I can easily relate to that. I know the feeling.

As a result of this shooting, it has blown up on social networking. People crying foul for change. People crying, grieving, staring reality in the face. Sometimes we need a break from these cruel realities, but when they come back, they ground us. People are people. We're reminded we don't deserve the hate and the gossip that we're all guilty of.

It just kills you inside when you realize you're not living for the right reasons sometimes. We should all be afforded the chance to live our dreams, at least for a day. The youngest victim of this unfortunate act was three months old. That person didn't even get a chance to live out any dreams, let alone many moments at all.

It all goes back to Christian's blog. They probably just went through normal circumstances, and in the span of moments, it was all over. Ghawi was on a date with a mutual friend, tweeting just moments before her death to Jesse Spector, a fellow hockey writer. Her last tweet was a sarcastic, loud cry that Spector said is like a haunting echo.

We may cry for change, but I think of it this way. It could be right, it could be wrong. Even if law exists or not, if people want something that bad, they will get it. Remember as a child, if mom said we couldn't have a cookie, and we wanted it that bad, what did we do? We knew we had the capacity to get the cookie, so we did everything we could to have it, and we had it, regardless of circumstances.

It's a basic instinct.

My thoughts, prayers, whatever have you, are going to the victims of this attack...the families of those whose lives were changed forever by the senseless act of killing fellow people.

What's the point of this all? Just live your life, and surround yourself with the people you want to be around. Try your best to find a way to love your enemy, because in the end, they're just people too. We're all human. We're all in this together, on the same planet in a vast universe.

I'm going to try my best to live my life as vivaciously as I can. I've learned that no matter what, I have to be me. You can love me, or you can hate me, but I will continue to go through life as Jordan Kuhns. That's how it began, and that's how it will end.

God bless.

Continued Captivation

Two years ago, I met a 12 year old kid that changed my life. He acted surprisingly with the maturity of an adult. He faced the problems that came his way bravely. He remained silent, on the sidelines, observing...he was truly a one of a kind kid. There was a time I had to remind him that he had to be himself, that bad things would happen to good people like him, and that he should never give that up.

Two years later...he remains no different. It is some sort of rarity to see a child so well-behaved and raised with morals like his. These traits are not often seen in kids his age. Not even close. Two years ago, he faced the cruelty of the world towards people like him. This year, surprisingly, I faced that. It only proves that the belligerence of children trying to assert themselves never seems to disappear as the gears of time continue to roll along.

People who aren't typical...people who are silent, who observe more than they speak, are ridiculed unfairly in this world. It's something that I do wish to change. I try to be some sort of example for quieter people with developing charisma to follow. If they simply work hard and have a support system that allows them to be propelled forward, they can accomplish anything a person with undeniable charisma can.

Sometimes quieter people have a hidden charisma. In the case of this kid, he was able to find it and bring it out this year. He is ready to take this step. His commitment is undeniable. He has traveled hours to find a resource to hone his skills. He has spent his own money on a book that will undeniably help him. He has agreed for me to help him in his quest to become a broadcaster.

I couldn't help but realize just how much he pushed me to be that example. When I met him, I was just a wannabe. When I realized how hard he was working, how much like me he truly was, I undeniably felt a change in my life. I had to work hard, not only to show him that it's possible, but to show myself that it was possible. I have gone from wannabe to will-be because he helped me.

I told him that he inspires me. He may not be the best yet, but neither was I at that age. He has the potential to wow people. I will help him however I can. I feel like this is one of the reasons I'm here in this position today.

More and more I'm told that the world of broadcasting will have my presence in it, and I believe them. I wouldn't have this undeniable drive without his existence in my life. There are special people in this life. I had no clue he would be the one to help me get to where I am, but sometimes the best surprises come from left field.

So thank you, Colin. Thank you.

The Unheard Story

There are times I hate the pros. Young millionaires. Sure, they've worked hard to get where they are, and yeah, they're the best at what they do, but sometimes they play entitled, speak entitled, and create situations that place them in a bad light. And honestly, I don't know if I can get behind people like that. There are the class acts, but then there are the people who ruin it all.

As a young broadcaster I've worked with people who are the up-and-comers. The ones with fire in their eyes to play for pride. They don't play for the money, they play because they love the game. When you see the reaction of a team that has won a championship, when you see the reaction of a team who lost a championship, and they didn't play for money, they played for pride, you realize just how awesome telling that story was.

After being a part of Millersville hockey's championship loss and other large games in my career, telling those stories seems special. Even though many people didn't take part along for the ride, I felt so much more connected to these people. I wanted them to win. I wanted them to do well because I wanted them to show pride in what they did. It wasn't about the money.

The step to that "pro level" of broadcasting is perilous in two different ways. I don't know if I'll be like the athletes that get pro money, if I'll just forget about what it is to broadcast for pride as opposed to the money, or if I will enjoy broadcasting for pros. That I don't know, but it's something I'm legitimately concerned about.

Long story short, I love telling the stories of the people just working hard for the sake of working hard, you know?

Finis

I came to Millersville University for a few reasons. I figured it was close to home if I wanted to head back to Harleysville, I was impressed with the TV studio, and it was the best state school in the entire PASSHE system. How could I go wrong? There had to be opportunity in a tiny little town in the middle of Pennsylvania just waiting for me, an arrogant 18 year old, to take.

I came in scared as hell. We were forced to say good bye right away. I didn't have time to say it in private, and I knew crying was inevitable. My entire orientation group saw me bawling my eyes out. I had no clue what to expect. I didn't know I'd meet one of my best friends here at school that day, or that week. So many from my group just took their own route, but I'd say Ethan Sholly was the first person to make me feel accepted.

Little did I know he would introduce me to my future roommates and my other great friends here at school.

That year I learned the value of living with someone you like. My first roommate proved that being a jerk gets you nowhere, on either end. The man I lived with was an arrogant fool. He drove me up a wall, and he forced me to find myself out of necessity. I thought I found people I liked, but they pushed me away. The next year, the same result. I applied myself, but that's what saved me from coming back to someone I absolutely despised when I went to bed every night.

It was all a learning experience.

I found something I absolutely loved to do. I loved to tell stories and get people excited over things they've never been excited about. There are a few times I've been told things that I just stopped and said "wow." I've been told that my broadcasting "saved someone's life" and had someone interested in hockey that had never watched a game before. In any event, it was fun to learn, and fun to improve. Every step of the way meant a new accomplishment.

I interned with the Reading Royals, forced to become a professional. I had credentials with the Hershey Bears. I interned with ABC 27. I won seven awards with the National Broadcasting Society, including my pride and joy, a national grand prize in 2010. I have their honors, Alpha Epsilon Rho. I am graduating cum laude. I was the media director and first-ever broadcaster with Millersville Hockey. I broadcasted games on the Marauder Sports Broadcasting Network. I broadcasted high school soccer on Blue Ridge Cable 11.

I can say, now that I stand at the end of this journey, I have done everything possible to ensure a career in play by play broadcasting...or something along those lines. Sometimes I worry if I'll like it, but if I think about what happened back in February, I'll be okay. As long as I touch a single life, it was worth it. It isn't about the people who hate you. It's about the people who love the team because you bring them to life.

I don't know how many broadcasters think of their profession so eloquently, but hey, maybe I'm a first.

I said I came into school scared as hell. In that fear, I learned a lot. I learned how to be a consummate professional. I learned how to be a truly genuine person. I learned how tough life can really be.

Most importantly, in the midst of it all, I learned how to love. Rebecca Knier has continued to be my beacon of support, the one I love so very much. It's a relationship that could have never happened. It could have taken a week and one of us could have grown bored. But that's not happening. She's my everything, and she keeps me going through the tough times. I'm sure she'll keep doing that.

I'm now just a few days removed from being 22 years old, and I'm still scared. There's no guarantees on obtaining a job unless I work for it and prove myself. I've said before, I can't wait to be tabbed as "the guy." I'm unproven otherwise. Hopefully soon, you'll hear me. I honestly don't mind whether or not you choose to tune in. I can't force everyone to.

The one thing I want everyone to realize is, whether you love me or you hate me, you were all part of a life-changing revolution that has taken place over the past several years. So, in either case, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Things get worse before they get better. That was precisely the adage that explained my emotional roller coaster ride here at Millersville University.

Thank you, and...so long.

Reflections on the Past

There are times, after looking at what I wrote coming into Millersville, that I want to grab 18-year-old me, and slam him to the ground. I want to tell him he's an idiot, a fool, a naive little baby for thinking the way he did. He was scared out of his mind, concerned with leaving things behind and beginning anew. He was afraid of change. Over the past couple years, I've rolled with the punches that this crazy town in central Pennsylvania has dealt to me.

Oddly enough, my thoughts are very much similar to what I thought then, just a lot more focused, and a lot more mature.

I cried twice today. I'm on pace to cry a lot more. That weak form of me four years ago did the same thing. I feel scared of what's to come. Same thing happened four years ago. I'm afraid to leave and begin anew. I'm afraid to forge a path that is simply one that is called my own, with little guidance from outside sources. I may be beginning a life where I am the only one I know.

I talked to my friend Luke, who will be doing something similar as he is moving to Missouri soon. He will know one person, and that's it. He said there's something kind of exciting about starting over. Moreover, there's something extremely scary about starting over.

Times like these, I think of "Younglife" by Anberlin.

There are times I want to crawl in a little nostalgic hole and forget everything. I want to go back to playing video games for hours. I want to go back to a time where hockey was nothing to me. I want to go back to a time where I loved the few friends I had, and I was around them all the time, not knowing that one day, that era would end.

"I wanna do it again."

That little naive Jordan is coming right back out again. The one that even I want to throw on the ground and tell him to shut up. Yeah, I know, bullying myself, how hypocritical. 

There are so many little things that I remember about life as a student. There are so many regrets I have. Being weak, turning that weakness into arrogance...but I believe I have redeemed myself through a self-revolution, turning that arrogance into grace. I'm fully aware of my weakness, but I will continue to press on the way I said I would at the beginning.

God's got my back. So do the people that matter.

My thoughts may change within moments, but I figured I'd get this down before I forget it.

Response

It's been a month, I suppose I've been too wrapped up in the feelings of graduation, but I did come across something to write about. I wrote about how earlier, a purpose I've seemed to grow into is being an advocate against bullying and other related acts. For an event the Millersville communications department invites high schools around the area to participate in an on-the-spot competition, something came up right away.

My group decided to produce a video about bullying. I instantaneously approved of the idea, and led them to a spot where they could shoot the video. It didn't turn out the greatest—the editing decisions weren't exactly the best, even if it was under pressure. However, that isn't the point of this blog. The point was the reception to this video in particular.

To clarify, the story is of a kid on his way to class, as he bumps into a "tough guy" who knocks him to the ground, kicking him while he's down, tearing his backpack off and throwing it on him while he's prone. One girl, while texting and walking by, does nothing, saying "what a loser" and the guy far away minding his own business takes responsibility and drives the guy away, helps the kid up and sends him on his way. The video then ended with the startling statistics that this subject comes with.

Problem is, during the showing, the entire classroom of high school and middle school kids began laughing as soon as the tough guy dropped the kid to the ground. The concept of bullying was a complete joke to these people. As the girl said "what a loser," the laughing intensified. The statistics came, and the room went silent.

We've hit two obstacles in drawing attention to this subject: people perceive harassment as a joke, and they don't recognize bullying as a problem. I can remember, clear as day...in 8th grade, Indian Crest decided to provide awareness on the issue. Too bad I was one of the only people listening, as the people around me murmured, "why are we even here? this doesn't happen here?" I beg to differ.

The proof of it happening was sitting right next to them in silence.

Sometimes I wonder why exactly people can be so ignorant to the fact that this exists, and it affects lives in dramatic ways. The simplest things people say can have a huge effect on a life. I've been called worthless before. If I didn't have the support of my best friend at the time, who knows where I'd be? Dead? Maybe.

I just want people to understand that bullying is not funny. It does not deserve a laugh. It deserves action. It deserves advocacy. It has been swept under the rug for the longest time, and I won't stand for that. Right now, it starts with us. It starts with our generation. If we can move past that and teach our children the right way, maybe we can improve the issue.

It's time to throw this stupid behavior out the window. It's time to value each other as individuals. We all exist, and we're here together, like it or not. Make sure you're not intentionally ruining someone else's life because of your actions. The people who get the most attacks are the ones that need the most help. Will you be the solution?

I vow to be part of the solution.

One-Up

I hate being one-upped, and yet it happens every single day.

We all experience pain, in some way, shape or form. And sometimes, we like to express that pain to people we believe support us. Yet, more often than not, that pain is thrown right back in our faces, only to be trumped by someone else's pain. Why the hell does this happen?

Why the hell are we so self-absorbed to believe that our pain is always greater than others? Some friends we are to each other.

A simple "I'm sorry," or perhaps a suggestion of the next course of action, instead of "you don't seem like you had it that bad," or "well last week this happened to me and it was worse" would be much appreciated.

Why, why, why?

Fear

There are certain sensations that come to mind when weather happens to be a certain way. Like today, it was a cloudy day with a chill in the air. It takes me back to walking to the bus, or being outside playing baseball as a child...just the little things. Once it starts getting hotter, I'll envision times where I would be outside in the hot weather, clamoring to come inside to the cool A/C, and do nothing for hours except play video games...and none of that new crap, I'm talking about the old classics.

I remember times at Jordan's house, going into the freezing cold pool in the summer only to come inside and have macaroni and cheese in his freezing cold house. It's the little things.

In two months, I may never, ever get to do any of that again. And goddammit, I'm scared as hell. I don't know any different life. I've never had a full time job. Part of me is scared that I won't enjoy what I do as a job. Something tells me I'll burn out. As hard as I've worked to ensure something, it still hasn't guaranteed anything.

I'm scared.

I get comments as if people say I'm guaranteed a future in this business, but I'm starting to wonder, why? I have a talent, but there are people that go to better schools, have better opportunities, and have better connections...it is they who have guarantees. I chose Millersville for no real good reason. I've only made the most out of rural central Pennsylvania.

Do I regret my decision? No. But am I scared of the ramifications of my decision? Yes. I know so many talented people I've seen go through the ranks, but it took them plenty of time to find something, or in some of their cases, they can't find anything. I'm afraid that's going to be me.

I mean, I can look at Chuck Gormley, currently a writer for Comcast Sportsnet Mid-Atlantic. He is a graduate of Millersville University, and he hit it pretty big.

All I want, and I know I'm not the only one, is life to go back to the way it used to be, in a way. All I want to be is that kid that played Sega Genesis all day. I don't want to have to worry about life.

Part of me wants to completely change my life goal, but I know this is really the only thing I'm good at. So it's either put up, or shut up, unfortunately. And so I go on...only hoping it all works out. I don't want to be so scared anymore.

A Parallel Journey

The year was 2002. I was a chubby 11 year old playing baseball. My team, the Yankees, was up against the best team in the league, the Blue Jays, in the championship game. The Blue Jays were always the best team in the entire league throughout the whole season, and it seemed like we could never beat them. We began mounting a comeback in this one.

It was the final inning. We were mounting a comeback. The hits kept coming, and we were down two runs with a runner on second. The next batter popped the ball up to right, but the runner forgot to tag up, and in an instant, a mental mistake in that final moment turned out to be the reason we lost the championship.

I cried for hours. It wasn't fair. I wanted to win at something. This was especially at a dark time in my life where I didn't have many friends, and I was target number one at Indian Valley Middle School. I just wanted something to go my way. I wanted to win.

What happened this weekend, I don't know if I was ready for it, but I tried my absolute hardest to be ready. I wasn't a part of the team officially, but I was so in tune with them, that when it came to defeat, I knew exactly what they were going through...and I couldn't help but react the same exact way...

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Fast forward six years. It's my first week of the college experience at Millersville University. I asked my orientation leader, Jake, if we had a hockey team. "No," he said. "We just have the NCAA sanctioned teams like football. But our team is awful."

I went home that night, asking...why the hell am I even here? Why did I choose a college that didn't have what I wanted to do in life? It wasn't exactly my best decision in the world on the surface, especially since I had just decided on wanting hockey broadcasting as a career. I played out the rest of that year, tenative, chasing some other aspirations and interests. It was a dead end. I felt unfulfilled, making friends that turned out not to be friends at all.

It was now 2009. I'm a sophomore in college, still feeling betrayed by my own decision. I'm sitting in psychology class, same old boring lecture. I think it was a lecture on the anatomy of the brain. I get into my seat, and I look to my right...there sits Bryan DeMarco, junior goalie of Millersville Marauders ice hockey team.

All I did was stare. I looked at his jacket the entire class. I didn't give a damn about the lecture. I felt fifty different emotions. I felt betrayed by misinformation, I felt stupid for not checking the facts, and I felt euphoric that this wasn't a joke. I went up to him that day, and asked the stupid question..."you guys exist?"

Who knew that THAT question would start the madness that was my journey as the undisputed voice of Ville Hockey.

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DeMarco told me to come out. So I stood up at my television station meeting, and I said...we have a hockey team. I want this station to go out and cover them. I need one person. I only got one person, but we went out and did it. My first game was against the New Jersey Institute of Technology. Only five minutes of that game tape exist, as I got rid of the rest. However, my first goalie save was made by "Yllano Tubelleja"...yeah, what a start.

We lost, 4-1. But the first goal I got to call, I listened to it over and over and over again. I did it! I called my first hockey game, live. I felt on top of the world. No other person had ever done this before, and I held a claim to fame at Millersville University. I did game after game, until a chilly November night fell upon us.

It was a massive production for MUTV. Millersville vs. Kutztown. Rivals from years ago. It was then I would call one of my favorite goals of all time. "Evan Miller, unbelievable!" It was also that game that brought me my first national award through NBS. I was off and running. Things were gonna be just fine.

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It was the next year. I was field shoot coordinator at MUTV. I thought I had full control. I would make sure MUTV covered a team from start to finish. I would schedule tons of games. But I was always denied. I knew this wasn't going to be easy. I hit obstacles at every corner. We ended up doing about seven games, most of them losses, but it was worth it.

It was then I started building a foundation. I also started to get to know the guys. They were always wary that I existed, but they never really talked to me too much. I was an outsider, like always. It was nothing new. It was okay, though. I was doing what I wanted to do in life.

Later that year, our Student Memorial Center was under renovation. They had the frame of the bell tower out for anyone to sign. I knew I would leave a legacy behind as the voice of Ville Hockey, but I figured I would sign this too. I put "Shot! Score!" and I signed my name. I was always a part of this school in a way nobody ever was.

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The next year flew by even quicker. I did so many games...and everyone knew me. We were the best team in the league. We beat everyone. It was an amazing feeling. I felt like a part of something amazing. Everyone was so good to me. I knew as the games went along, each one marked another step towards the end.

Then this weekend happened.

Even if there was someone on this team I didn't know, I got to know them then. They were good people, all of them. They fought together as a family. They ribbed each other like nobody ever would. It was almost a pure hockey team with no worries about being traded, no media calling anyone out, no anything. It was a bunch of guys playing a game together for the fun of playing with one another.

It was the playoffs. This was it. I took the three hour journey east to be there for my team.

They steamrolled past LaSalle, but Rutgers was a different story. Tied at 5, going into the locker room between the third and overtime, defenseman Chris Collins took a penalty. They were shorthanded, and Rutgers' showboat defenseman, Marc Buccelatto, was giving them fits. My friend, Pete Scottoline, motioned me to come down.

They wanted me to lead.

I came into the room, and everyone had their heads down. A rage was imbued inside me. I let it out in a five minute long tirade that ended in this statement.

"So you're shorthanded?! Who cares?! Fuck it! You're going to kill this penalty, and you're going to win this game!"


I turned to defenseman Sean Nielsen, who already had a hat trick. I told him "you're going to get another chance." Guess what? They killed the penalty, and through three thrilling overtimes, Sean Nielsen won it. I had inspired a victory. Not only was I a part of Millersville history, but I was a part of Ville Hockey history.

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I did something similar for the championship. I recited the legendary quote from Fred Shero. We fell down 5-1 between the second and third. Something must have been said, because we fought back hard. Goal after goal, we struck back until we tied it at five. It was just like 2002. We were so close. Then, it all came crumbling down at the last second.

They score. Game over. Season over. Career over.

I stood there in shock. I looked at the TCNJ players darting off the ice, equipment flying. I look back over at our Marauders, standing, or hunched over...we all couldn't believe it. I started to put my laptop away, and then it hit me. That was it. That was my career. That's how it was going to end. I cried incessantly for the next twenty minutes, as the parents walked by and saw me helpless at my table, crying like a baby, just like I did years ago.

It was then that something happened that I wasn't quite sure I would ever hear. Appreciation. Respect. Love. The parents, one by one, would hug me, and thank me for everything I had done. The players came out, hugged me, and thanked me for everything. The coach, Scott Edwards, shook my hand, looked at me with tears in my own eyes, and thanked me for everything.

It was hard to face these guys. I felt like I wasn't good enough. And yet, the show of appreciation from every single one of them blew me away.

Jake Bongiovanni, a defenseman on the team, came out, without a voice, he hugged me tight, and just kept saying he was sorry. I told him it was okay, with tears continuing to flow, I told him it was the best experience of my life, and I would be nothing without any of them.

And it was true. I would be absolutely nowhere without Ville Hockey.

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In my career of broadcasting, I've won six awards through the National Broadcasting Society. I've received opportunities just through merit alone. I'm in the running for a seventh award. It's honestly one of the most amazing things ever.

The whole experience was one I would dare not forget. These people will continue to be my friends. I've found somewhere I fit. Better late than never, I would say, but it was worth it.

You can criticize me in the future for being a bad broadcaster, I don't care. All I know is, for the people whose lives I do affect, that's who matters. I made so many people happy doing what I love. And that's why I do this. That's why I broadcast hockey. I make people happy. I give people reason to be excited about something.

I have a tremendous passion for a game...and I just want to live that game for the rest of my life.

Thank you, Ville Hockey. Thank you all.

I don't even think thank you is enough.

The Speech

This is it, boys. This is the final run.

I just want to get this out of the way right off the bat. The three seasons you've given me have meant the world to me. Three seasons I'd never, ever take back. I've given up a lot just to be there for you. I may not have been there all the time, but I always wanted you to do well. I knew that the black and gold would come through in the clutch every time. Even in defeat, I still believed in you.

I was your voice. I wanted to bring your college careers to life like no other person could. No other team has anyone to make their moments epic. I always felt so much pride in giving your goals and your celebrations life. I hope you enjoyed it while it was here, and while it still can be here this weekend. You have no idea how much I want to bring the ultimate moment to life for you.

But again, this weekend isn't about me. It's about you. It's about your fight to prove you're the best in this conference. And if you ask me, you are. I'm gonna tell you why. Because you play with pride, you play with passion, you play with a love for the game that no other team I've ever seen play with. You all have fun playing the best game on earth.

You guys have played out some real drama. I was there on that November night in 2010 where Evan scored with 56 seconds left to win against Kutztown. I was there when Chet scored in the last minute a few months ago. I was there when you stuck it to Bucknell last weekend, watching Henderson score in overtime.

You have that ability, like no other team I've ever seen before, to make things happen at times when you never expect it. Out of nowhere, you'll surge from the depths of nowhere to come right back. You and I...we're Marauders. This is your identity. And I can say I'm so proud to be a Marauder, and I can tell all the rest of you are, too.

The LaSalle Explorers are waiting for you out there. They have some fire in their eyes too. But little did they know, they had chance after chance to put you away...10 powerplay chances, all taken right away by your willingness to never give up. You were down 2-0, but you came right back, and then shocked all of us. Henchy, that was all you.

I hate to steal a line from Herb Brooks, but...this is your time. This is your time to go out there and take it. Right now, I'm living a dream, and I don't want to wake up. I know neither of you want to either. Let's make this happen, together. Let me bring it to life.

What do you say, team? Let's do this.

Spiral of Silence

The feeling of being silenced is one that is never appreciated. Whether under the influence of gatekeeping, or under the influence of expectation, having an opinion not within the majority only serves to peoples' detriment.

Elisabeth Noelle-Neumann, a German scholar, developed something called the Spiral of Silence theory. Those with opinions within the minority are compelled to keep quiet for fear of retribution from the majority. We should be persuaded not to say anything if we have something different to say. This is becoming something extremely prevalent in today's world, and honestly, why does it exist?

Is it a protective shield? Is the retribution of the majority that dangerous? I feel as if there are so many causes that get washed out due to the Spiral of Silence. So many voices are drowned out when the Spiral of Silence is in effect. Why do we seem to make sure the minority's voices are not heard? Minorities in our minds can mean so many things, but to me, minorities mean ideas that don't ring true with your own perception.

I challenge all of you to listen to the voice you don't agree with. I want you to listen to other perspectives. Don't fall victim to a debilitating social theory.

Just Do

I remember in my senior year of high school, I visited the Flyers Wives Fight for Lives Carnival. I got to meet the hardest-working and most humble people out there. Hockey players. I met the gritty Mike Knuble: the man who makes his living in the crease and driving the net. I also got to meet a lot of the alumni.

The Broad Street Bullies. The ones that worked hard, the ones that revolutionized the game, and some of the ones that made a living in broadcasting. One was Bill Clement.

Clement has worked with the best in his career as a broadcaster. He worked with Mike Emrick on Flyers' telecasts. Most notably, he worked alongside Gary Thorne as a color commentator in an illustrious run on ESPN and ABC. He has been in commercials, and now makes his primary living as a motivational speaker for businesses. Apparently, he fetches a pretty penny.

The reason I bring up the affable Clement is because of something I told him. I remember being in line, just waiting to say hello. Then, I said I wanted to be the next Gary Thorne. He asked me, have you ever done it before? Embarrassingly, I hadn't. He said, you need to get to your high school's games. You need to be up in the corner, with a recorder, and just doing it.

It was only about a fifteen second encounter, but it was one that changed my life.

I wouldn't know it right away though. I didn't even attend another Souderton hockey game. They were terrible. I had no clue how to broadcast hockey. I didn't care to embarrass myself in front of people asking "who the hell is this kid? Is he talking to himself?" So I hindered myself, and I regret it to this day.

Since then, I have lived by two words that Clement said to me. They are words not well-received sometimes, but they are simply not arguable. Just do. There is no excuse to just do. There is plenty of opportunity to grab ahold of. Especially for the broadcasters of the future. You are in a dogfight with so many others. The best way to get on top of them is to just do.

I know people would rather take the easy way, but sometimes sacrifices are so necessary to attain what philosophers like to call "the good life." I'll continue to just do.

I'm Millersville University's first, and for now, only ever hockey broadcaster. My name is signed on the infrastructure of the new bell tower with "Shot! Score!" and my signature. Millersville will have a piece of history with the new Student Memorial Center.

Thanks, Bill. Thanks for changing my life in mere seconds.

The Last Time

Today marks the last time I'll ever do something. It's the last time I'll ever go "back to school".

To be honest, I didn't expect it to be this sad. All the time, children say they can't wait until it's over, but it has been a constant in my life. I don't know any different. I only know grades. I don't know payroll and fighting for my livelihood. I only know fighting for a grade.

I remember being a wide-eyed five year old, standing at the corner of Salford Ridge, waiting for the tiny bus that would drive me and about ten others to Salford Hills Elementary School. The days I had there were ones I'll never forget. I had some of the most influential people guide me to be an outstanding individual.

I remember Mr. Purnell, the nicest and most patient man alive. I started a saying with him. "Be bright." Be a blessing to someone. Always do the right thing. He stressed how important it was to be an individual. Today, that call to action is not heard so strongly, but it should be.

I remember Mr. Weinberger. The most eccentric teacher ever. "Attention everybody. The phrase of the day is first. It is pronounced..." I remember learning about Mesopotamia, Egypt, China, Greece...the adventures and wisdom that the ancients have and how it affects today.

I remember Mrs. Auchenbach. My first mentor. One who wasn't exactly loved by the students, but if you got to know her, she was a bevy of information. She was someone that got life, and understood why I was bullied. She gave me strength. I should thank her someday.

I remember Mr. McClintock. My second mentor. He was someone that was able to give me strength. He taught about Medieval history...something I still love to this day. His class was always informative, and it filled my imagination.

And most of all, I remember Ms. Brand. The one that got me in this mess in the first place! She's the one that told me that I need to express myself. I shouldn't be afraid of who I am. She told me to use my voice for something. I plan to use it for two reasons, actually. In any case, she may be the single most important piece to who I am today.

So many memories race back. So many "first day" feelings. The warmth outside, the excitement of a new year, the challenges that awaited. I never thought it would end. I thought that was life. The years went on, and it was an expectation. Why would things change? Why would things become more complicated?

Because that's just life, that's why.

It's hard to believe this is the beginning of the end of my life as a student. Soon, it'll be my turn to be a voice that someone listens to. Soon my livelihood will be on the line to the tune of how many people listen to me. There are times I barely feel ready, but people tell me I am. I don't want to disappoint anyone. I can only hope they're right.

It's back to that whole complacency thing. It was an inevitability, but one we stashed aside. We're just students, and we always will be. Obviously...not the case.

It's all about soldiering on, and finishing school the way I want to. I want to finish as a polished academic, and an ardent soul. I want to be someone that Millersville University lists on notable alumni. I want to be someone that the history books talk about. I want to be that guy.

So...here's to the future.

Stand Out

Life is short.

We often cast this saying aside. We think to ourselves that tomorrow's a guarantee. After all, we've lived for thousands of days. As Stephen Christian once said on his blog (modesty.blogspot.com), we never expect this day to be our last. We put on our favorite shirt and go out into the world, only to expect tomorrow. We can't. But we're so complacent. We just do.

With this limited time, sometimes we just go through the motions. We don't stand for anything. All we do is propagate drama. Good vs. evil. The good guy vs. the bad guy.

I never thought I'd be able to use this in a serious blog, but I'm going to.

"And we have some problems here on the Earth to worry about? Compared to like...nothing. Just...be happy. Don't worry, be happy right now."

See, it's times like these I don't understand people that don't believe in a higher purpose. The people who don't want to stand for something. The people who don't want to fight for what they believe in. I don't care if the purpose's scale is minuscule or grand, just stand for something. If you have the ability to, and everyone does, fight for what you believe in.

It was Ralph Marston that said that everyone has their own unique voice. Use that voice to say what you truly mean, to express who you really are.

It was Gandhi that said that we need to be the change that we wish to see in the world.

We have all the tools in the world, especially in this information age, to extend our beliefs on a massive scale. We possess the ability to be heard. We possess the ability to do so much more than anyone could have possibly conceived of doing just twenty years ago. Compare what we have the ability to do today to the capability of people in the Roman Empire had.

It's night and day.

People know me as the guy that loves hockey, and will someday earn his livelihood being a part of it. There is just one thing that people don't know. I plan to use this voice of mine to stand up for the causes I believe in. I vow to squash bullying and discrimination amongst adolescents. If God will have it, I will live on and continue to fight the fight that I had fought beforehand.

I will use this blog, I will use Twitter, I will use my future profession, I will use anything in my power to stand up for what I believe in.

What do you believe in? Will you stand up for it, or will you be silent? Don't fall for the spiral of silence.

BE THE CHANGE.

Trying Again

The last time I blogged here, I possessed immaturity. There was anger. Frustration. Cold reaction. There was no sense, no focus. Now, it's time I found a focus, and stuck with it. I told myself I was frequently right. I told myself, nobody would care. But it turns out, they did.

The real purpose of this blog is to find understanding in the injustices of life. Things I will observe and try and figure out why things don't work the way they should. My struggles will be posted on this blog from time to time, sometimes lyrically, sometimes not. I can only hope I can get what you're thinking, too.

I'm more than just a voice. I'm a beacon of my own self truth.

Thanks, Mark.