...Continued --The Class Act

The Class Act. "Hey, Pretty, call me back. I can’t wait to hear from you,” his soft, sweet yet masculine voice resounded on my voicemail. He was my middle school crush whom I had run into 14 years later.

My middle school crush was better known as a “lady’s man.” You know this kind of male – the lion in the jungle who loves to hear himself roar, see how many females he can pounce upon, and after, gloat in victory while stroking his mane.

But I thought I’d give him a chance. After all, he knew the kind of girl I was, so maybe he had changed.

 

As he walked up, my mind went back to him playing football in high school. His towering physique loomed over the dinner table, and I instantly remembered why everyone liked him so – his charm was far greater than his looks.

I was intrigued. Why was he interested in reconnecting with me? Had he really changed?

 

To my surprise, he was humble and honest. He recounted the past few years and made it clear he was a more serious person now, exhausted with the bachelor life. I believed him. He opened the door, paid for dinner, and guided me up the stairs with a gentle touch, making sure I didn't stumble in the darkened stairway.

We went on a few dates, and he wanted to see only me. I had reservations in my gut but didn’t know why. Or maybe I did.

 

Maybe it was the time I was recovering from a week-long sickness of strep throat and was invited to a relaxing day at the pool -- or so I thought. “ I could use some some sun. Maybe it will make me feel better, “ I told him as I rummaged through my clothes searching for my swimsuit.

I arrived on the scene. Entering the pool gate, I saw a sea of people, at least a hundred. The loud music made my head hurt as I searched for him among the crowd. There was not a chair to sit in. At first glance, the girls were pretty, until you saw the beer can in hand and belly hanging over the bikini. The guys looked like guidos from Jersey Shore as they bumped the beach ball in the pool. “Was I a part of a taping for MTV?” I thought.

I stayed no longer than 45 minutes, and he agreed to leave with me. Apparently, this was an every-weekend occurrence during the summer months.

As weeks passed on, I met his friends. There was always an excuse to “go out.”

It seemed that every time people saw us out together, I was warned -- and not always by close friends. On several occasions, they were people I had never met, including the anonymous texter, once while Mr. Charming was on a beach trip with all females (granted, he had planned it before me.)

The texts recalled his Excel spreadsheet of hundreds of women he had slept with and the list of his future prey. After being creeped out, I still took it with a grain of salt. Unless the texter came forward, I wouldn’t take it seriously.

After these texts, however, little things began to annoy me, including the reoccurrence of his shirtless body. Whenever we entered his house or went to a friend’s house, the shirt came off. And a time or two in public.  But the best outfit was yet to come.

His birthday weekend was coming up, or rather his “birthweek” as he called it. The Saturday arrived and all his friends gathered at their favorite pub starting at noon. I refused to come at noon. I arrived at 4:00, unfortunately, four hours after the drinking had begun.

And there he was… not shirtless this time, although that would have been better, but with a “peewee” football shirt tight around his body which hung as a belly shirt. I was mortified. I was dating a cave man.

They drank and drank and ended the night with karaoke. The images of him booty dancing on some random girl and falling out of his chair feet up as he leaned over to whisper something are still etched in my mind.

I dropped him off at his house, and I went home. The next morning, I received a call. He was confused and remembered nothing from the night. “Come eat breakfast with us. It’s Sunday Funday,” I gave in. After hours of sitting in the front lawn with his friends still drunk and continuing to drink the day away, I knew I had to leave. I was too old for Sunday Funday.

“I have to be productive, “ I told Mr. Charming. That was the last time I saw him. A few weeks later, he sent me a video of him on his knees drinking a Smirnoff Ice. The message read: “Look what you’re missing out on.”

I replied, “Classy.”

Kisses from Katie

When I first came across Katie Davis founder of Amazima, I sat at my computer in awe and honestly questioned if I was living out my own purpose.

In 2008 at the age of 19, Katie Davis founded an organization called Amazima. This ministry has many facets including a child sponsorship program, which provides the child with schooling, supplies, three hot meals a day, and medical care. Her program now has 400 children in it.

In addition, “Katie also reached out to the Karimojong people of the Masese community. The poorest of the poor, and losing their children to malnutrition and starvation at an astounding rate, she noticed their desperate need for nutritious food. She started a feeding program to the community, nourishing over 1,600 children Monday through Friday. This allows the children to attend school and therefore not go to the street to beg. Also provided is medical care, Bible study, and general health training.”

Not only has she founded both of these programs, she also initiated a self-sustaining vocational program to help the women of Uganda provide better for their families. They make handmade magazine necklaces and sell them in the United States and online at AmazimaStore.org.

Katie now has thirteen daughters that she has adopted and takes care for daily. She shares her beautiful story and daily challenges through her blog and book entitled Kisses from Katie, which was released this month.

Obviously, not everyone’s purpose in life is to move to Africa, adopt thirteen girls and start a nonprofit organization. But what is your purpose? And are you living it out?

After almost two years of being in marketing and public relations, I am returning to teaching. A thought that initially ran through my mind was that my job would no longer be “cool” or “interesting.”

But during my short time in marketing and public relations, I constantly thought about the bottom line – making money. I also thought about making more money for myself. It became a rat race – never satisfying and always wanting more.

Teaching is hard. It’s not babysitting like many may think. It’s creating well developed lesson plans, managing a class of 25 or 30 and constantly evaulating yourself and the students.

I did not initially go into teaching English because I merely enjoyed literature, grammar or writing (although I do). I went into it wanting to be an example, a role model and to teach students the important aspects of life.

I’m not Katie. And I will probably never accomplish the things she has already accomplished at the age of 21.

Katie plans on opening a school in 2012. She continues to allow her vision to grow. I’m sure she has been scared at times embarking on a journey that she may never had thought about before. But what a beautiful, selfless story of sacrifice and love!

For the past couple of years, I have wanted to start a nonprofit. One day, I’d love to have a program that promotes self esteem in young girls and educates them properly on issues that many are too afraid to talk about.

I don’t normally announce my goals or dreams. But Katie has inspired me to keep dreaming and to know it’s possible to see them realized.

What is your purpose? What is the one thing that you know you’re supposed to do but may be afraid to do so?

Let Katie’s story inspire you.