The Big Picture 2016

We can talk the facts, mainly facts, the truth. The only thing no one has a choice in is the truth. We could have sugarcoated it, it wouldn't sound as harsh. Poured some Clorox on it, it wouldn't look as dark. Suppressed a whole generation and act surprised when they ask to talk. Try to hide the harsh truths from this generation. Viewer discretion is advised, but there's no parental lock on problems. No matter your age, it's hard to avoid them. Especially when you see those problems in yourself. Can you relate? No matter relation, because nothing starts affecting you personally until it happens to your people, right?

Someone who looks like you. Your age, your color change what-ifs into realities. What it is is your voice. This is our voice.

We bring you the statistics, the big picture. We tell you these things like they were already sitting in your living room.

Bust through your door without invitation. Your daughters, your sons, we invite you to listen.

Shh.

Everybody listen.

The statistics are talking. If you ask me, teens act like they're in a TV show. So if you're black, you're ghetto. And if you're white, you're suburban.

If you don't smile, you're mean.

And if you smile too much, you're fake. And if you like to eat, then you're fat. And if you don't, you're anorexic.

If less than half of the student population doesn't know your name, then you're a loser.

If you haven't had your first date by 6th grade, then you're bound to be #foreveralone. Why are we bound by these superficial rules just to be cool or normal? Adults would say, just be yourself! But we feel pressured to fit in and be what magazines and TV show us as the ideal. In order to be in this show, your personality has to be summed up into one word. You're a hipster.

A skater.

An emo. Or a prep.

A jock.

Or a nerd. It's ridiculous because nobody is that stereotypical and cookie-cutter. Whatever you do, don't draw attention to yourself, which can make things hard if you happen to be—

Or gay. Transgender. Or Asian.

Or big-boned. Don't spend your life trying to fit into a category because once you do, you've lost what made you, you. You can like nice things without being a prep, and you can like dark poetry without being emo. Why do we treat each other like we're in a TV show? We are not based off of those characters, they are supposed to be based off of us, but some teens act like they're permanently caught in their own cheesy TV show. You can put a label on me if you want, but just know I'm going to tear it off because I'm way more than your best guess at what to expect. Some will call me weird, but I prefer unique. Yet you're just the same as me. The difference lies deeper than the eye can see because visually I am just another person. But in my soul, I am a work of art that has yet to be completed. So if you label me, best leave it blank, because whatever you write will be deleted. And you can say what you want, I'll remain undefeated. And I know you can dish it out, but can you eat it?

The 3 leading causes of death for CMS teenagers are accidents, suicide, and homicide. If you are a Black male teen, that order is reversed. Race is a sensitive topic. I see it everywhere. On my TV, in the media, heck, even in my street. Another dead Black teen. People say all lives matter, but it really doesn't change. The facts that life for a minority differs greatly. The fact that we— Joey is more likely to have a higher-paying job than me. The fact that I'm more statistically prison than college-bound. More likely to be falsely convicted for a felony, more likely to live in poverty. More likely that we, the minority, to keep the prisons at 60% capacity. The fact that we live very different realities. The fact that I'm an endangered species. Black teens who live to see 18, I'm endangered. I feel no safety, not even in my own community, because if I am killed, it'll likely be by someone who looks just like me. A mutual understanding, don't misunderstand me. Yes, we have come a long way, but we are still too far to be called— Look, I'm just hoping that these words can bring us closer to seeing eye to eye. Either way.

I should be safe. I shouldn't have to watch the shadows during the night. I should be free. I shouldn't have to carry weapons to prevent attack. As children, we are told boys will be boys. But when do boys turn into men? A man asks for consent, doesn't pressure. A man compliments, doesn't harass. A man respects my choices, doesn't force me to live by his. Every walk to my car, every night when I'm out with friends, every time my, my guard is down just a little bit, this poison— boys will be boys— seeps in. Why am I told to cover the skin I live in when boys are encouraged to stare? I am not my gender, not my sex. I am done being a girl. I am a woman. A woman doesn't feel pressure, doesn't give in. A woman owns her body, doesn't feel shame. A woman makes decisions for herself, doesn't let society I am a woman. Now grow up and become a man. Yo.

She bad. She a bad little chick. I mean, she badder than a kid that got kicked out of the whole school district. I mean, she's pretty in her face and clothes let you know she has taste. But when you see the curvature of her shoulders, you can see blood going. I mean, she has the body that'll make any man go crazy. But my man, no. Please think before you speak. She's more than her body. In her body she hides the right mind that you lie to see. I know society doesn't really see past sexy, but trust me, there's more than skin. Trust me, believe me when I tell you she's a person just like you and me. I know it feel like to be a real man, need as many girls as possible. I've been there before, but you're just as manly as you were if you don't wear a little thing, you see. A man knows restraint, a dog doesn't. Yes, you may be stronger physically, but birth pains is more strain than you and I will ever carry. She literally carries me in grace, I respect her when she can. Now she's walking down the street, don't talk. 'Cause honestly, it makes us look stupid. You're smarter than that, that's offensive. Take time to see that we live differently. Come on, how often do you squeeze the keys at night? Believe it or not, your harmless catcall is threatening her safety. She feels afraid, you give her nightmares. She's not an object, she's a human being. And if you really want to talk about When you talk to a girl, try to sound big. It's called respect. Drop the facades and stop playing games. If your friends' impression of you changed, that's their issue, not yours. Your manhood doesn't depend on how many girls you've had sex with. It depends on how well you respect a person.

Thank you. I don't think people understand. Being in an abusive relationship isn't just about getting hit. It's about someone hurting you mentally or physically. That's what I didn't realize.

Having an abusive relationship doesn't mean that they have to hit you.

It can cause just as much pain. It's just different words. My boyfriend constantly put me down. He never laid a hand on me, of course, but he called me names, he yelled at me, he'd always blow me off in the middle of big plans, and it hurt. But an hour later, he'd call me crying. He's sorry, he wants me to forgive him, he loves me. That's all that matters, right?

No.

If you're getting hurt, that's all that matters.

Things started off great with my girlfriend until she got controlling, possessive. She didn't want me to hang out with my friends, and she would even make me feel guilty She would get angry and actually hit me. This girl is crazy. When I finally told her I wanted to break up with her, she tried to kill herself.

That's abuse. Don't be scared of being lonely, or don't you dare worry about hurting their feelings.

You need to do this for you and no one else.

Because in the end, all that matters is you.

From the producers of Proactive and True Life I Am Emo, the makers of Kids Bond have stepped up their game to bring you Teen Bond.

Teen Bond.

With sex, drugs, and all the above, because you're not a kid anymore. Check out our latest Sex and Relationships Edition. Now that's what I call Teen Bop 25, featuring hits like STDs by Burnout Girl. What do you mean? What do you mean by Justin Dicker? Throw some cream on that inch-by-inch boy. 30 points scratching this, should have wrapped it up for 6, headed to the clinic, just got an Bad Blood by Taylor Disc. Letting go my virginity by frigid. You are the father. Hello, a song about stalking by Adele.

Yes. Hello, it's me. Okay, cut that. You called a thousand times.

Teen pop sold everywhere, and C-teen products are sold I've been waiting and praying, please God, one line.

It was a mistake, an honest mistake. I forgot for 2 days that little girls must have promising shirts online. So I prayed. How can I make her grow so fast? How can I make myself? I don't have a job. I want to go to college. He'll lose the football team. He wanted to work on his music. Please, one line! Where will we live? How will we eat? Please, one line! How can I tell him? How can I tell my parents?

They're gonna be so disappointed.

We should have used protection. We should have waited. Please, please give me one line! It's been 10 minutes. I have to look down.

2 lines.

Thank you. I can barely get my thoughts together to remember last night. All I can hear are the sounds of my own screams, wondering why no one else could hear them. Or did they hear and choose to turn a blind eye to the situation happening not even 100 feet away from them? I shouldn't have trusted a boy I'd only known for 2 weeks, but I really thought I knew him, you know? Thought I could trust him. We're only gonna hang. It'll be fun, he said. There'll be a group of us, he said. Well, where was that group when he threw me on that bed and started ripping off my clothes? Tell me that. Tell me where that group was when I screamed help at the top of my lungs. Tell me where that group was when he got done and walked out like nothing happened. I'll tell you where that group was. And this, this is what's gonna surprise you. Right outside that room. How will I be looked at now? Will my friends and family accept me back? Relax, that's what he kept saying. Relax, relax. Well, how am I supposed to relax when you're— For a long time, I blamed myself. Did I do something to make him act that way? But now I know it wasn't anything I said. It's not what I was wearing. And when a girl says no, No. She means no. The imperfect person that you see, there ain't nobody else I would rather be. I wanna know, what's it like to be free? If only you knew what it was like to be the old me. Day by day, running, hiding, lying. Running away from my fears, hiding all of my tears. The lies I didn't even wanna hear. Why do you expect so much of me? Why did you build me into somebody I can never be? Everybody else got flaws, so why can't I? I'm just trying to live realistically. I'm trying to survive. I do my best with God, can't you see? I'm trying to find the real me. No matter what you say, no matter what you do, there was no way I'd become a fake me just to please you. So the point is, all these flaws that you hate to see are part of a perfectly imperfect me. Here are the facts. Currently, 10% of the world's population is living with a disability. That means that 1 in 10 people are disabled mentally or physically. People with disabilities make up the largest minority in the world. Now let's talk about ableism, the discrimination against people with disabilities. 60% of students with disabilities are reported being bullied regularly, and for each of those kids, there's a family A failure that sends them to travel every day with fear of being dismissed by their peers. All they want is a normal life like the rest of us. Sometimes they're chastised with a single word, a slur. If you sprain your ankle and are bound to crutches, you're crippled. If you get distracted, you say you have ADHD. If someone doesn't like something, they say it's retarded when they could have used any other adjective. Just look in a dictionary. There are thousands of other words you could have used instead of crippled.

ADHD.

And retarded. Words like these get thrown around daily, but I don't think people realize who they could be offending or hurting the feelings of when they say them. Did you know 1 in 68 people are diagnosed somewhere on the autism spectrum? Does that put things in perspective for you? You never know what people are going through. So think before you speak.

Hello, I am depressed.

Hello, I am bipolar. Hello, I have edges. No, I am Julia. Don't use your labels or diagnosis to tell me who I am. You're just seeking attention.

You just need to cheer up. Wrong, I have depression. It's not something I can just turn off like that.

All right, but you are bipolar. No, I have a bipolar disorder. I have bipolar disorder. It is something that I constantly battle with. It is a real disease, but some people just use it as a punchline. Charlotte's mother is so bipolar!

These labels can be used to describe what I may have, but my disease or disorder does not define me. My disease or disorder is just a part of who I am. It does not decide who I am.

I am more than a label or a diagnosis. So don't use it to describe us. We have a name.

I'm Xavier.

I'm Emily.

I'm Julia.

We may have a disorder, but our disorders don't have us. 4th grade. I finally tell the boy I'd like to I hear his friends ask, so, do you like her?

Of course not, she's too fat.

That was the first time something like that really stuck with me. I went home and cried to my mom, and she told me, you're not fat, you're beautiful. 6th grade. One of the girls in my class was admitted into the hospital for an eating disorder. My best friend says, at least she's not fat anymore. I laughed it off. However, when I got home, I found myself wishing I could be like that girl in my class. So that's exactly what I did. 9th grade. I'm hanging out with one of my guy friends. I express my discomfort with my body and he tells me, I like bigger girls anyway. It doesn't make me feel any better. 11th grade. I've grown accustomed to throwing up all my insecurities into a toilet bowl. I feel like garbage for treating myself this way, but I feel even worse than the number on the scale that tells me I'm not good enough. I wonder if I would still feel this way if the media wasn't so hyperfixated on the way I look, if society stopped insisting that I'm unhealthy when in reality I eat pretty healthy foods and exercise every day. The only unhealthy The only part of me is the part you created in the first place! So no, I may not be the cookie-cutter image of beauty, but I am not going to keep letting myself believe I am worthless. I am fat and I am beautiful. Don't let anyone make you think you can't be both.

Thank you.

Let's get dinner for you, baby. A minute on your lips. Forever on your hips. Do it to make people say, whoa, she got popped. Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. I'm exhausted. That's an understatement of the year. All I can see are the calories, the fat. I never wished to be this way. I used to love myself. My jean size never mattered. I just wanted to be me. Who told you that you were fat? They all told me I was fat. Well, they didn't have to say anything. Their stares said it all. That's when I started my long-term relationship between me and the critical ear. No one was there to tell me how beautiful I was, so I forced my hip and collarbones to be there instead. It's great that I can't see anything. It's fantastic that I've lost the glow in my eyes and the shine in my long hair. I love getting bruises at the slightest touch! So this is the end Is this what of the story. you want, huh? Look at me. I'm what society calls beautiful on the outside, but on the inside, now I'm ugly. What? Do I not look like what your image of an eating disorder patient looks like? We come in all shapes, races, and yeah, guys get eating disorders too! The truth is, the inner voice of anorexia tells you that you'll never be good You're enough. not gonna be happy until you lose weight. You think worth— self-worth is measured by how you look. But happiness and self-esteem come from loving yourself for who you truly are. Don't love you because I'm telling you to. You love you for those who love you, need you, and look up to you. You love you for you. So you don't end up here. Patient 762, it's time for your weigh-in.

Hi kids!

Billy Mays here with a fabulous new product that we've got running TV! Self-respect. How does it work? Too bad you have. Just use one ounce of self-respect whenever you start to lower your self-worth or make yourself feel bad. Spend hours on Instagram wondering if that girl is prettier than you. Get yourself some self-respect. Constantly putting yourself down, wishing you were like Susie or Becky or some other girl. I wish that I could look like that. Get yourself some self-defense! What did you do on planet Captain? Uh, sell ugly green later.

And why are you posting it anyway if you don't think it's there?

I think so. What did you do on planet Condo Sales? Oh my God, I'm literally shocked. Who's shocked at it? Thanks for something! Thanks, Julie May. I'm no longer trash, I'm recycling. Why? Because you lost 20 followers on Tumblr today? Shut up, you need a baby that's full of something! No, followers don't determine my self-worth! And why do you need followers? Are you a dog? I don't think so! Superspin! Get down to the end! Free battery now! It's an add-on!

Your prices.

God, I hate my thighs. I wish I had a thigh gap. And my shoulders. I actually look like a linebacker.

Where did that sentence come from? Where does it come from?

I feel like I have weird ears. I have weird ears.

So skinny.

Does every teenager on the planet feel this way? I think so. I mean, all my friends are beautiful, but they look in the mirror and they do exactly what I do. They critique. They judge every single part of themselves, parts that other people don't even notice. When they look at themselves, I honestly don't see Oh my God, I'm so pale. I actually look like a ghost. My ass is so big. My boobs are so small.

My voice is so high.

My lips are too thin. I am too tall. What is it about teens that we feel the need to constantly bring ourselves down? I mean, I can't be the only one that can't bring herself to accept a freaking compliment. Do you know that you're beautiful? Do you know that you're perfect? You're perfect just the way you are because you are. It's okay to not have problems with your ears or your weight or your voice. It's okay to not have a thigh gap. We all have something that makes us beautiful. It would do us all a little good if we tried a little harder to recognize it.

Thank you.

Skinny girl, fat girl, skinny girl, fat girl, skinny girl, fat girl. See, skinny girl shaming is a myth because skinny girl shaming doesn't exist, but fat girl shaming isn't a myth. It's been around so long, you know it exists. Calling me skinny is an observation while calling me fat is a slur. Why don't you see they have the same results? You want me to be thicker, you want me to be thin. Society has pitted us against each other and said we'll never fit in. I've got to be all about that fade, my body needs to crop. No, this needs to just stop. You want me to be curvy, but I'm still trying to be Barbie. But Barbie's plastic. What do you want to be plastic for? Nobody wants to be Barbie anymore. Well, can somebody please help me find the recipe for what I'm supposed to be? But in all honesty, A recipe isn't what you need. As far as we can see, all girls think society should have a hold on me. But you are beautiful whether you're a size— 16 or 3.

I done been through a whole lot trying to please everyone, and it's so hard hating every day that comes by. Hey, put that something around me, no matter what they do to tear me down, man. So no matter what they do, I'm gonna stand up and say proud, man.

I love myself. The world is a place where everyone's choosing sides. I love myself.

Where they can do what they want, but I'm gonna grow like a lion.

I love myself.

We gotta give up, let these words to the side.

I love myself.

One day at a time, the sun gonna shine for the pretty. Put forward to lay there, look at what you do. Don't let neglect keep cruising. I'm gonna go like it's supposed to. Keep on flashing, no love is breaking your heart. Like drunk texting, fighting in his car. He said he loves you, his own company, but he sleeps around with y'all all apart. And everybody with their own problems, everybody got their own problems. Only the beast got to learn too soft. Every time you feel yourself broke apart. One day at a time, the sun will shine. I say no more shame, no more shame, no more abuse, no more abuse, no more crying, no more crying, no more stressing, no more. So let yourself A friend of mine gave me this. I told him I was having a good time at the party. He handed me this and said it would make things even better. But will it really? Because every time I see someone smoking, they just look stupid. You know, I've always been an okay student, never really got into any kind of trouble. My friends tell me I should cut loose every once in a while. I mean, I smoke weed every once in a while, but I don't think I should cut loose, at least not like this. I mean, or should I? If all my friends are doing it, why should I be the one missing out? They say it's fun, but every time I see someone getting high, every single time, they have this weird blank look on their face. And I can't have a conversation with them because they're too high to pay attention. If I say no to this, what's the worst that could happen? Might call me a couple names, make fun of me a little, call me uptight, but if that's what it takes for me not to be like them, I think I'd be okay with that. And honestly, if they're my real friends, they'd be okay with that too. Yeah.

There's still a lot of time to keep your word. Broken toys held together by glue and tape, worn with time and covered in mistakes. We're all living to die, but really we're all dying to live. We say we're all grown up, but really we're just kids. We want to change the world. Hashtag forever.

Hashtag forever.

You may be playing Peter Pan, but Tink isn't here to make you fly. So you got yourself some pixie dust that'll take you just as high. You're slowly destroying yourself, but I guess you just don't mind. You're digging your own grave and building yourself a persona to hide behind. You're rebelling.

Against what?

Who is the enemy? Because as far as we can tell, the only one harming you is yourself.

Hey teens! Feeling the urge to get lit with your friends? Well, Teen Bop has a new collection of songs just for you! Teen Bop Druggie Remix Part 1, featuring hits like Slow Killer by Kanye Mess.

Huh? You ain't got no money.

I ain't saying it's a slow killer. The cigarettes will make you choke, choke. I ain't saying it's a gold digger. The cigarettes will make you broke, broke.

You can't breathe, knees get down.

You can't breathe, your knees get down. You can't breathe, your lungs are brown.

You can't breathe, your lungs are brown.

Watch me sip by Silent Throw Up.

Silent Throw Up.

Silent Throw Up.

Tap it, tap it. Hey, now watch me sip. Hey, hope I don't throw up.

Now watch me sip, sip.

Hope I don't throw up. Ooh, watch me, watch me.

Ooh, watch me, watch me. Ooh, watch me, watch me.

Pew, pew, pew, pew.

I don't smoke with you by Sick Sean. I don't smoke with you. You looking dumb, no lungs.

I ain't smoking with you.

Black lips, no funds.

I ain't smoking with you.

I got a job and some plans and some other things to do. Then I'll be smoking with you. You look a stupid smile. I'll hit the blunt, I'll hit the blunt, I'll, I'll, I'll hit the blunt. I'll hit the blunt. Stitches by Shawn Mendes.

Needle in the vein, gonna get you out of my pain. Needle in the vein, going straight to my brain. Needle in the vein, gonna get you out of my pain. Needle in the vein, going straight to my brain. Needle in the vein, gonna get you out of my pain. Needle in the vein, going straight to my brain. Needle in the vein, gonna get you out of my pain. Get you out of my pain.

I'm not ready.

You got me high, but now I can't breathe. Shaking, falling onto my knees. And now that I'm without your needle, I need you, but you're lethal. I'm no longer myself. Begging, begging for someone to help. And now that I'm without your needle, I need you, but you're lethal. I'm no longer myself.

Teen Bop! Honestly, getting lit isn't worth all of this. So kids, why are drugs bad for you?

Well, drugs are like medicine, which is nasty but makes your head go woo! No, they make you crazy. Yeah, they make you crazy, like boop boop boop boop boop boop.

What do you mean they make you crazy?

Well, drugs are bad 'cause, 'cause they make you die.

Are you sure you guys aren't on drugs?

No.

Hey kids!

Introducing the new and groovy toy, Pop It! Wow, what can you do with it? I'm glad you asked! You can—

Pop it!

You can—

Twist it! You can— Inject it! Wait, what?

You heard me! You can—

Cut it! Okay...

Snort it! What are you doing? You can pop it!

Pop what?

OxyContin!

Or Molly!

Stop it! You won't want to, you won't be able to. Pop it! It's absolutely addicting! Hey, dudes!

Pressure to light up getting you down? Well, don't worry, Team Bop has a new collection of dope songs just for you. Team Bop Druggie Remix Part 2, featuring hits like My Last Friday Night by Katy Perry.

What's the number after 1? Last Friday night, I got real high on what's my name. Man, these things got me insane. I threw my life right down the drain. This Friday night, don't pop a zan. This Friday night, that mess ain't your friend.

Drugged out by 21 grams.

Wish we could turn back time to the sober days when our mama was proud of us, but now we're drugged out.

Wish we could turn back time.

Two sober days when our mama was proud of us, but now we're drugged out. Used to kick and breathe, now we're smoking every day. Used to take a bunch of pills, nearly fly far away. Used to dream of college days, now we're injecting in our veins saying, wake up, you're spending all your money. Yo!

These Drugs Keep Getting Stronger by Kanye West. Work it, Kim, it makes us all a little faster. And that— now this is gonna kill me. I can't see myself stopping. I, I need to kick this habit or else I will be dropping. I know I got to get right now 'cause I can't get much stronger. Only got one night left now. Drugs just keep getting stronger. Don't you tell me what to do!

Oh, John!

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Teen Bot. I don't get paid enough to promote this.

Sip me, drink me, pass me to your friends. Let's all be friends, we've only just begun. And you're not 21, but age is just a number. Sip some more, notice how you're no longer in control. Let me compliment your vulnerability. I mean, it was easy to get in your system, start making your decisions. Can never really forget first impressions.

I'm sorry.

You'll probably try to quit me soon. I mean, they all do. But I'll keep calling and calling and calling because you know when your hotline blings, it only means one thing. I miss you. How long have we been friends? Trust me, I won't hurt you. Don't ruin the party. I make really good decisions. Of course you can drive. We'll be home in no time. Swerve a little. Have some fun. Have some fun! It's only a life. I'm sorry, I always forget to introduce myself. I'm alcohol, and you won't be making it home tonight.

It was a cool night as Allison, Jake, and I walked— barely walked— to my mom's car. We all piled in laughing. Now, there was a reason we were laughing, but I can't remember that now. The car started and we took off. The vibe was good. I could feel the music vibrating through my body. I closed my eyes, rolled down the windows, and I could feel it. The wind, the music, the world around me. I felt invincible. And in that moment, I was immortal. And then I opened my eyes, saw white lights that blinded me, and then bam! I felt the car levitate off of the road. Everything was in slow motion until the airbag exploded in my face. When I came to, I could see flashing red and blue lights. Policemen were standing around and medics were lifting me up onto a gurney. I was in shock. Out of the corner of one eye, I could see Alison face-first on the asphalt, a trail of red skin and bones behind her.

She was a beautiful girl.

I looked around for Jake, but I couldn't find him before I blacked out. When I came to, I was in a hospital, and medics had informed me that Alison was dead and that Jake would never walk again.

What?

If only I didn't listen to them. Allison and Jake told me that everything would be fine and that getting caught only happens to other people. If only I hadn't gone to a party knowing that there would be alcohol. I've ruined the lives of 2 of my best friends. Allison is dead and Jake will never walk again. While what, I get to walk away undamaged? Now I have to live the rest of my life knowing what I've done. If only I had just said no.

No.

Hi kids!

Billy Mays here with the power of No! What is No, you might ask? No is a very simple tool to use, so simple it can be used by anyone of any age. No can save you time, money, family, and years of your life. Here's how it works. No is powered by the air you're breathing, fueled by common sense. By using your common sense, No is no problem!

No problem!

Where them ones that smoke pot with you? Hit 'em with those! Giving personal info out on social media? My address is— Let's know that! Wow, you saved me from potential online predators! Neighborhood track queen wants to hit you up? She gonna hear you, no, and walk away, 'cause ain't nobody got time for that! But if you're not already You do have time to call, so call now at 1-800-USE-COMMON-SENSE. And don't worry about money, 'cause we already know in this economy you don't have any. So no, it only costs you $3.99, so get yours now. Why?

That's the first question anybody asks when they find out. Why would you hurt yourself? I never know what to say. I mean, it took so long to get over it and it was so hard to stop, yet people keep bringing me back to that one question.

Why? If I had been able to figure out all the reasons If I knew the reasons I was hurting, I never would have cut myself in the first place. Nobody really understands. I mean, I must have been asked by countless people. Everyone I told, everyone I opened up to, they all wanted to know one thing: why?

I don't know. I didn't know then and I don't know now. Even though I've been able to stop and try to talk it out and get help, I still can't figure out why.

It just happened, and after it happened once, it kept on happening. It was like I lost control for this short period of time, and I couldn't stop my hands from, from doing what they were doing. It scares me to think how easy it was.

Cutting is not that much different from a drug addiction, I'm told, because you know what you're doing is bad and wrong and it's hurting you. It's literally hurting you, yet you feel this overwhelming need. I still feel that need from time to time. It doesn't completely go away. But I've realized that I'm stronger than that. So I think the question that we should be asking isn't why, but what are the reasons that I should stop?

And even if I can't explain why, if I can just help one person because I've experienced what they're experiencing, because I've been where they are, then I don't think why matters.

Just do something that you know could redirect your attention. Sometimes I'll hold a bag of ice, or I'll have a rubber band, and whenever I get the urge, I'll snap it.

Whenever I feel like cutting, I try to imagine myself having to explain scars on my arms and legs to the children I want to have one day. I know it's hard, but there are a lot of people who have been there and can support you.

Just know that you can get help, and it does get better.

I'm happy, right? I've got a good family, great friends, so I'm happy, right? Well, it's hard to be happy when the chemicals in my brain have become unbalanced, like a scale— With a rock on one side— And a feather on the other. My inner child— Has taken up residence on the swing sets in my mind labeled mood. I can put on a smile, laugh, joke with my friends, but I go home and—

Cry. Scream.

Silently while my parents watch TV in the other room. They don't know that my unmarked skin hides scars deeper than you can see. I only let them out when I'm in the dark of my room crying myself to sleep, only barely hanging on. It's hard to be the support when you're cracking apart, but I'm still the least broken, so I keep my friends in one piece, putting them back together with duct tape and paper clips. While ignoring the faults of my own foundation. They don't know that I'm falling apart, and the only reason they don't know is because I've sewn this mask to my face so you can't see the cracks in my facade. But I know they're there, just under the surface, and it's hard to fix something you don't acknowledge. But someone's torn down the wallpaper showing off my faults, and suddenly there's a construction crew held together by duct tape and paper clips coming in with hammers and nails here to piece me back together, and if I let them, they can patch up the cracks in my soul, keep me together long enough to find a solution, or at least something more permanent than duct tape and paper clips. But for now, they'll do, and I can take my mask off knowing I have friends who can help with these cracks. And I'll be happy, right? I should have seen it coming. The warning signs were all there. The late-night fights, the tension at the dinner table. Dad said he was just busy, but 9 to 5 became 6 to 11. If he came home at all, he was tense and disheveled. I'd be lucky if he even acknowledged me. Then one day, suits and ties gave way to empty hangers. That night, Mom set out 2 plates instead of 3. There was no small talk, no awkward conversation, just a silent understanding. The bags under her eyes told me everything. But now I carry the bags inside of me as I wonder if I'll ever be able to have a healthy relationship myself. They say that children of divorced parents are 7 times more likely to suffer from depression. I never thought I'd be part of that statistic.

Hey, how's it going? Look, I don't want to spend any more time on the same old subject, so why am I out here?

We haven't spoken in almost three years, and now you just magically expect for me to let you back. into my life. Why should I? You were wrong for what you did, and you know it's all coming back to you.

Let's see, who is my favorite singer? What's my favorite subject in school? You can't tell me, can you? I thought so. Look, I'm not here to make you hurt more than you've made me hurt, but—

You lost the one person who loved you and believed in you no matter what.

Do you have any idea how weird it is for me to go into a barbershop and not have you there? There's all these kids with their dads and I'm just there alone.

Do you have any idea how bad it hurts not to be able to go to a daddy-daughter dance because I don't know where you are?

Did you know I got my first job this summer? No.

Do you know I can drive now? No.

Am I in a relationship? No.

You don't know me at all. And you want to know why? Because you never cared to know.

No phone calls, no emails, no nothing.

Just pain. So you tell me what I should do.

You were supposed to teach me how to be a man and how to treat a lady, but all I ever learned was what not to do.

A father is supposed to teach his little princess how to be treated like a queen, but how was she supposed to know that when the king left the castle?

All I ever asked was that you never leave, and you left.

So we can wrap up this conversation because you have no idea Wait, Sarah. Eat, repeat, eat, repeat. Eat, watch, stare, repeat. Wait, stare, eat, repeat. Eat, watch, stare, repeat. I'm a product of my surroundings, just a page in a book bounding. Even our expression is unidentifiable, but you cannot hold me liable. I'm just a product of my surroundings. The screen illuminates my face. It's my saving grace. I don't know how to think anymore. I don't know what I'm sitting here for. The screen has all the answers. The screen has all the jokes. The screen is the only reason I awoke. I don't understand why you're angry. I can't comprehend what you mean. Are we not the age of evolution? The cyborgs of society? I've sold my soul to the almighty cloud. Thousands of us lay flat along the hard drive. I assume that's life. I stay up watching YouTube because I don't know day from night. My body My body clocks are off and my eye muscles are tight, but forget school, who needs it? I can type faster than I can write. I am part of an online community, a unity, assuming we never meet face to face. I was programmed to assert opinion and receive hate. Twitter is how I think, Snapchat is how I see, Instagram is how I know which one I'm supposed to be because all cyborgs look exactly the same. Inviting each other to play games, Candy Crushed any means of individuality. Digital is my reality. Wake, stare, repeat. Wake, stare, repeat. Wake, stare, repeat. Wake, stare, repeat. Wake, stare, repeat. Wake, stare, repeat. Wake, stare, repeat. Wake, stare, repeat. Overload, overload, shutdown! Please hold down power button for shutdown. Error. You cannot reset life. Last week is gone. Last month is gone. You were too busy staring at the screen That it forwarded right past you, full throttle. Life traded you in for a newer model with more gigs and a smaller attention span. And our generation speaks. Emojis got our vocabulary sloppy. And we say, wow, we could have been somebody.

Hey teens! Stop stressing and start pressing the play button, that is, on Teen Bob's latest collection of songs just for you, featuring hits like Hotline Bling by Fake. Stop!

Oh, I'm totally driving, but it's fine.

You used to call me on my cell phone when I was driving on Cheat by I Be Cheatin'.

Yes, Megan, and I'm back. So I cheat, yeah, just cheating on the download. And I don't want my teacher to know, so I cheat. Yeah, because I didn't study, and I don't want my teacher to know. Oh, so I cheat. Oh God!

Oh! Just writing.

Study groups? Study partners. Yeah.

Yeah.

Let's go.

Failed Course by Katie Scary.

So you want to pass your classes, you don't even know what to study for. 50 on your report card, now you're looking at a failed course. Now you're ready for, ready for Summer school, if you wanna graduate.

She's a beast. I call her Mama. When I don't do my work, here come that drama. You have studied better.

You gonna repeat your grade.

See You Again, My Bed, by Charlie's Pooped.

It's been a long day.

Just together. Teen Bop. I don't get paid enough to promote this. Bullets have no name. Maybe that's why so many of my friends are gone, because bullets had no name and theirs was so special that they took it from them. But they take so much more. They take a son from a mother, a brother from a sister, and a friend from me. As the tears fall down my face like a tiny avalanche on the yours, I come I only think about last night. I grabbed the drinks, you grabbed the condoms, we headed to the front. You said, hey yo, let me get 2 of them swishers, 'cause I copped the dub from JJ earlier. Next stop, the girls we hollered at. You know I wanted Keisha, and Tammy was always thirsty for you, so it was a no-brainer. But maybe if we used our brain, we would have realized that their brother was the same guy my cousin robbed last week. Man, why did I have to be with him? He's always getting into something. I guess today's my lucky day, huh? His voice only reminded me of that day. Hey, where y'all from? Go inside your pockets. You can't hear me? I said, where y'all from? Take them J's off too. Now get out of here. The only difference between then and now is then I heard his feet hitting the ground. Now I hear bullets piercing through the car door. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. Three inside your thigh, two inside your chest, and one. As we pull off to the hospital with blood everywhere, the doctor says you'll be blind in your right eye and that you lost 2 fragments in your chest. He won't remove them because you lost enough blood. But you're here with me, your mom, and your little sister. You're gonna make it, you're gonna make it! But as I chant, there's this faint noise. What is this noise? Oh, flatline. You're gone. How could you be gone? Your birthday was gonna be Saturday. Your mom was gonna send her 18-year-old son off to college. Instead, she's getting her 8-year-old Ready for the second grade with her outfit! Red Chucks, black jeans, and a black shirt that says RIP Robbie with your face on it. And on the back, bullets have no name.

There was a lot of blood in the sink and bruises all over my body. He kept on screaming about how useless and stupid I was. I thought my mom would understand, but she blames me too. They all do. They say if I keep it up, they'll kick me out, but if I run away, I'll be charged on terms of undisciplined. But if I was 6 or 7, If I were 10, I wouldn't have this problem at all. Everyone would just swoop in and save the poor innocent child being beaten for no reason. But because I'm 15, they say I should just shut my mouth and be respectful. So my mouth is to blame and not them. Not their words, not their actions, not their fists, but me. So either I can stay and be completely miserable and beaten Or I can leave and go God knows where. And sometimes, sometimes I actually think it is my fault. That maybe this wouldn't be happening to me if I were a little different. That maybe I'm doing something wrong. That maybe I deserved it. That maybe I should let the bruises stay because they seem to be the only ones that really know what happened.

Thank you.

I remember the closet. It was such a tight space in there. Turn on the lights, I'm hiding behind my lies hung up on coat hangers, suffocating me. I want to reach a hand out so you know that I'm there. I used to hide my true self in there, and it's a secret I'm afraid to share because if I tell you, It'll change your perception, make you think I led you to believe I'm somebody different, and I'm sorry. I only act closeted because that's what I am, and I've never found the courage to turn on the lights and let you know that I'm hiding my true self in the closet. I want to knock, scream for help, let you know that we are suffocating. This won't be easy for any of us, but—

We're claustrophobic.

Now you feel the awkward silence of hypocrisy. That silence you feel every time you hear someone say, man, that's gay! Or, that's a sin! Or worst of all, it's wrong just because it's wrong.

Why do homophobia and hypocrisy go together so well?

It's a perfect fit.

We all think we know what we're talking about.

But do we?

Do we really?

Everybody's always got something to say. Everybody's got their own opinion. Until it's you.

Or your best friend.

Uncles. Mommies.

Daddies. Cousins. Boys.

Boyfriends and/or girlfriends. I am me, not my sexuality. You call us Brian.

Dax.

And Naila. Not those straight people.

So why is it okay to say that lesbian chick?

Or that gay guy? Or which one, the bi one?

We need to take a step back.

Look at the big picture. How would you feel if it were you?

You who lost your job.

Your friends.

Your scholarship.

You would feel insulted.

So the next time you say something and think that you're just joking, take a moment of silence.

When you look at me, what do you see? You must see a monster. Well, whatever you see, that's not who I am. You laugh at me, you tease me, you call me names, names which will haunt me for the rest of my high school life. Why? That's the question. Why? Is it because of the way that I move? The way that I talk? What is it? I'm tired. Tired of saying one thing and then you feel you have to say something else to make me look Tired of being the laughingstock of the class. But you know what's really funny? Is that when you're alone, you say hi to me. But when you're with your friends, you laugh at me. But guess what? I don't need you. I mean, what you say affects me, but I'm not going to let it affect my life. Because you're certainly not going to be in my life 10 years from now, so why should I care now?

I'm sorry.

Because what you think is weird, somebody else thinks is cool. And what you think is ugly, someone else in the world thinks is the most beautiful thing. I'm not concerned about your thoughts and opinions because I'm focused on me, my goals, my life, my future. So if you have the time to talk about me behind my back, at least take the time to acknowledge me face to face. So now I ask you again, when you look at me, what do you see? People always tend to ignore ugly things when we see them. We just put the blinders up and act oblivious to it. Most of the time, bullying is staring us straight We see it right in the face and we do nothing about it. I'm pretty normal, I guess. I don't bully people and I don't get bullied. I rarely see it happening at my school, but I think that's because I'm unaware I have my blinders up. There was a time a few weeks ago in my English class, there was this girl behaving so rude and ignorant and offensive to the smaller, quiet, awkward girl. One day, the quiet girl raised her hand in response to the teacher's question, and the bully made fun of the way she talked. And how stupid her answer was. We all laughed and the teacher did nothing. You could tell that she was upset and embarrassed, but we just ignored it and laughed. This continued to happen for a couple more classes. Every time the girl raised her hand to answer a question or pretty much did anything, we just ignored it and laughed. I soon started to think, this girl is getting bullied. She doesn't like it and she's in a helpless situation. Nobody in the class is on her side and we all laugh and the teacher ignores it. I felt like saying something, but I didn't. I didn't want to be weird or laughed at. I didn't do anything. Does that make me bad? My mind tells me just to ignore it, but my gut tells me to say something. We all witness bullying, but just ignore it and pass it on. September 28th. Dear diary, it seems like every time something bad happens, something good happens, something bad immediately follows right after. You'd think I'd be used to it, but, um, I can't help but want to cry. Sometimes I hate my parents. They go about life acting as if nothing's wrong, acting as if we're some one big happy family. They don't get it. They just don't get it. They don't get that they're the ones making me miserable. They don't get that they're one of the reasons why I'm depressed. I'm sorry you feel like I didn't care. I'll always care for you. I just wanted you to be happy. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel unwanted or unloved. November 30th. This would be hilarious if it wasn't so horrifyingly tragic. Every time something good happens to me, something bad immediately follows right after. Is it too much to ask for just one, just one good thing? I think not, but I could be wrong.

I just wanted to say that I will always love you.

You can always talk to me if you need me. December 2nd. Sometimes I feel like there's no reason for me to live. I wish I could just cease to exist. I feel myself slipping. All the progress I've made is going down the drain, but who cares, right? It's easier this way. I would do anything to make this pain go away.

I'm sorry I ignored the signs.

I understand your pain. You'll never be alone. I'll always be there for you. You are not alone. January 3rd. Dear diary, I feel angry, sad, confused. I feel lost, empty, devastated, but most of all I feel empty. Empty, hollow, blank. I don't want to feel empty anymore. I want to enjoy life. I want help. I, I just don't want to admit it. I don't want them to put me in some kind of hospital, but maybe that's the kind of help I need.

It's okay to ask for help.

I'm sorry you felt like we hated you. Everyone feels alone sometimes. It would have gotten better. January 30th. Dear diary, I'm done. I'm done with life. I, I just don't know what to do anymore. I'm tired of everyone I know hating me. I'm tired of trying over and over only to fail every single time. I'm tired of being tired. No one would— no. No, no one will miss me when I'm gone. Just doing everyone a favor, right? So goodbye. Thanks for being there for me, diary. Thanks for being the only one that would listen. February 2nd. It's been a month since it happened. Since she took herself away from us. There was so much that I wanted to tell her, but I never got that chance.

I wanted to tell her how proud of her I was.

I wanted to tell her that she would always be in my heart, and I'm sorry I didn't see what was going on. I wanted to tell her that I'm sorry and that I never meant to hurt her. So why did you do it? Why did you choose to leave us?

Why did you choose a permanent solution to a temporary problem?

Didn't you know how much we loved you? Didn't you know how much we cared? Did you not once stop to think how we would feel when you were gone? What we would go through once you had left?

I wish you had failed.

I wish you had failed. Why couldn't you have failed?

It's a weird feeling you get when you regret something that someone else did. It's even weirder because you regret that they did it to themselves. She mattered to me. She mattered to a lot of people, which is why we were all so confused. Confused because she always seemed so happy. Confused because she never told anyone. Confused because now we all have to refer to her in the past tense. It was just another day. When I found out, I felt a lot of things. And I cried, and I yelled, and I called her foolish, and I called her selfish, and I called her cruel, but in that moment she wasn't any of those things. She was just gone. And I blamed everyone. I blamed myself, and I blamed her. I still don't know why she did it, but everyone has their guesses.

I'm sorry.

Well, she was so beautiful, they say. Yeah, well, I wish she had known. She was such a nice person, they say. Yeah, well, she hadn't thought so. She had such A big heart, they say. Well, it wasn't big enough to keep beating once she asked it to stop. Whatever her reasoning, I wish that I could have helped her. I know that I could have helped her because she mattered to me. And now we all regret that she's gone. And she'll never know. That what she did has hurt all of us.

Why won't they just leave me alone? I did nothing to them. They are so immature. I mean, like, I'm a good person, right? You know, I'm smart and I don't do anything to anybody, and then people just act childish all the time. You know, they don't own up to their mistakes, they bully me, and for what? I mean, I try to be nice to them. I don't know what else I can do. I just don't understand immaturity. You know, I bet— no, I hope— Did someone say immature?

Millie Mae!

That's me, and I have a fabulous How does it work? I'm glad you asked. Just use 1 ounce of maturity and you're mature. Wow, so when somebody is acting childish? Give them some maturity! When people aren't owning up to their mistakes? Give them some maturity! When people are making fun of me? Give them some maturity! How much does it cost? Because I need some right now! Just like the rest of my body, it's free! It is free 99! I can definitely afford that, and I thank you and appreciate you so much, Millie Mays, 'cause your products are always here to save the day! Maturity! Because everybody needs it!

Man, dealing with school. I got my parents, my girl messing me up. I'm just stressed, man. Man, don't worry about none of that. It's one thing you gotta worry about. What is that, bro?

AP.

Hey, we gonna be all right. We gonna be all right. We gonna be all right. We gonna be all right. We gonna be all right. We gonna be all right, huh? We gonna be all right. We gonna be all right. We gonna be all right. And when I wake up, I recognize snakes under the sofa. We gonna keep the grass cut, warm tub with my head held up. It's a celebration, everybody put your hands up. Don't seem things ain't going right. Ooh, help me, Lord. Why things gotta be so complicated and everybody just seem to keep on hating? Why things gotta be so complicated and everybody just seem to keep on hating? I'mma be all right, yeah, no matter what it costs. Don't pick me up and back, and I ain't going back. No, I'mma be all right, yeah, no matter what it costs.

I'mma be all I right, yeah, no matter what it costs.

don't think you have a bag, and I'm not going back. No, never mark my body and soul. Continue walking down this road. Success nonetheless. Gotta keep it A+. No one's studying for the test. Do my options. I eat money low. My boss thinks they can stop me when I'm all go, so I treat them like they in my cereal bowl. Oh Lord, think I done gone too far. Shout out to the whippers that I bought a new car.

Watch out for accidents.

Just saying, things can happen. You can lose your life in the snap when you chat and still boundless. Alcohol, homicide, suicide, another brother that died in a drive-by. You know when you play set up, you still got kids, you could get wet up. And if you don't want babies, STD, ladies, better make sure you wrap it before you tap it. Afterwards, you and his pops gonna be scrapping. You don't want to deal with that, so let's try to save money. Stay true to me, no matter what. We gonna be— no matter what, we gonna be all right. Sing!

We gonna be all right. Sing!

We gonna be all right. Sing!

We gonna be all right. Do you hear me? We gonna be all right.

We gonna be all right.

We gonna be all right.

Do you hear me? We gonna be all right. We're living life.

I've got a group of all of them right here. Oh, I don't want to affect anything.

Oh no, don't do that.

I told y'all, that was half credit for the initial applause for these kids.

Are they not phenomenal?