Blog Style – 01 – Page 12 – Wakime Hauser's Blog

Men healing – Round 2
- June 26, 2025
Shades of a Man (Podcast)
- May 30, 2025
Growth takes time!
- May 14, 2025
Men’s deserve to heal
- April 25, 2025

- Uncategorized
- March 5, 2025
Walnut

&lt My grandmother’s house always puts a smile on my face. It was the most beautiful apartment in the world,...
- Life Style
- August 12, 2024
Racist or Not?

When I moved to Greenwich, Connecticut, from the Bronx, New York, in the early to mid-80s, the world was vastly,...

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- March 12, 2023
Your character is naked!
Shut down 2020
- October 1, 2023

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June 26, 2025

Silver Spoon!

In the realm of societal unbalance, there exists a phrase that reverberates with both…

Wooden Spoon

The humble wooden spoon, a utensil often underestimated yet possessing remarkable longevity if cared…

The Plastic Spoon!

I know all about being born with a plastic spoon. A plastic spoon might…

The symbolic meaning of Spoons

What’s Your Symbolic Spoon? 🥄 Spoons as Symbols in Life 🥄 Pause for a…

Failed Starts

The notion of New Year, Monday, next month, or after my birthday often serves…

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Uncategorized
March 5, 2025

&lt My grandmother’s house always puts a smile on my face. It was the most beautiful apartment in the world to me as a child, even though it was tucked inside the roughest projects in Mount Vernon, New York. Five towering ten-story brick buildings, stacked side by side, looming over a few tight acres of land. Off-street parking. A handful of basketball courts where the nets rarely lasted, and a playground that saw more fights than laughter some days. Outsiders feared these projects. They whispered about them like a forbidden place, a war zone. But for me, it was home. My second home. And I was never afraid. My grandmother’s apartment was a two-bedroom fortress with more locks than the U.S. Treasury. The sound of her unlocking the door was a ritual—a metallic symphony of bolts sliding, deadlocks clicking, chains rattling. And before you ever stepped inside, she cracked the door open just enough to peer through the chain, scanning to make sure you weren’t bringing unexpected company. That was normal to me. So normal that I never thought twice about it until I moved out of the city and realized not everyone lived behind layers of steel and suspicion.,...

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December 26, 2023

90439

Born in Yonkers, New York, in the 1970s, I’ve always seen myself as a New Yorker. Besides attending Yankees or Knicks games, I rarely visit unless it’s for a family engagement or a funeral, as I now live in Connecticut. My childhood experiences in New York were anything but boring, except when I was being punished or at church. Additionally, I witnessed numerous illegal behaviors considered normal in my hometown. It wasn’t until I moved to Connecticut that I realized fighting wasn’t acceptable. I was taught never to let anyone bully or put their hands on me, and surprisingly, I rarely got into trouble for fighting in or out of school in New York—only a swat with a yardstick in school, which just stung briefly. However, adjusting to life in Connecticut proved challenging for me as a kid and teen. I seemed to always be in trouble. North Carolina became my sanctuary, where I forged lasting friendships from my youth. Each visit fills me with emotional memories. In North Carolina, I learned various skills like riding a motorcycle, landscaping, gardening, driving a manual car, handling and shooting rifles, playing basketball, and swimming. It provided an overwhelmingly positive experience for me,...

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January 27, 2025

Birthday wish #52

A few weeks ago I proudly made it to age 52. Birthdays have always been a reflective time for me, a moment to pause and take stock of where I’ve been, where I am, and where I’m heading. At 52 years old, my birthday wishes no longer resemble the ones I made as a child or even as a young man. The things I used to dream about seem like echoes of a different person—a person who didn’t yet understand the weight and beauty of self-discovery. Now, my wishes have evolved into something deeper, something more profound: I wish for me to be the best version of myself. When I was a kid, my birthday wishes were simple and sweet. I’d blow out the candles on my cake, grinning from ear to ear, and hope for the latest toys that caught my eye. Action figures, bikes, and the like were treasures that lit up my world. Life was about adventure back then, about the joy of play and the endless possibilities of what could be. My young self couldn’t have imagined the complexities and challenges that adulthood would bring, but that innocence was its own kind of magic. As I,...

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February 21, 2024

Silver Spoon!

In the realm of societal unbalance, there exists a phrase that reverberates with both envy and disdain: “born with a silver spoon.” It explains the notion of being born into immense wealth, shielded from the adversities that plague the majority of humanity. As I reflect on this concept, I am reminded of the stark realities of economic inequality that persist in our world. In my capacity as a black teacher and gym owner, I witness firsthand the disparities that exist and the systemic barriers that obstruct the path to prosperity for many including myself. Less than 2% of the population will never have to worry about money. These individuals were born with a silver spoon. This status is for life. Unlike a plastic spoon, a person born with a silver spoon will always have a silver spoon. It doesn’t matter what happens in their life; they will always be rich. The metaphor of the silver spoon speaks to the perpetuation of privilege across generations. It symbolizes not just material wealth, but also access to opportunities, networks, and resources that reinforce and amplify that wealth. For those born into affluent families, success often seems preordained, a birthright rather than an achievement.,...

Life Style
November 21, 2023

Cell phones and the Internet

The internet and cell phones are impacting relationships significantly. When I was growing up, five of us shared one house phone. I knew everyone who called for my sisters, mother, and stepdad. There was no expectation to return a call within a specific time frame. If I wanted to talk to a girl, I had to call her home and ask her parents for permission. This often involved the inevitable question, “who is this?” If I had a less-than-stellar reputation, her parents would either bar me from speaking to their child or interrogate her to ensure our relationship was platonic. This process instilled in me a deep respect for both adults and peers. Building relationships during that era was challenging without parents being aware. Many friends, both boys and girls, were only conversational companions during school hours. However, it was rare to encounter them outside of the school setting. The kids I associated with were known to their parents, and even today, those parents inquire about me, demonstrating the lasting impact of that indirect monitoring through the house phone. This system helped keep children in check, discouraging negative influences and fostering a sense of respect. For young people who have,...

Men healing – Round 2
- June 26, 2025
2
Shades of a Man (Podcast)
- May 30, 2025
Growth takes time!
- May 14, 2025
Men’s deserve to heal
- April 25, 2025