Wakime Hauser's Blog – Page 12 – Just another WordPress site

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
- February 26, 2023
4th Street Projects: 5H

5 H was the place! It was my favorite place to be for many reasons. Mainly because it was pretty,...
- Life Style
- March 5, 2024
Childhood lost

My childhood was a mosaic of experiences, both challenging and enriching, which I now regard as invaluable. Among these memories,,...

- Uncategorized
- February 12, 2024
Wooden Spoon
Cell phones and the Internet
- November 21, 2023

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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Life Style
March 19, 2023

When my family moved to Greenwich CT in 1983, it was a culture shock to me. My entire life I had been called a white boy and now, for the first time, I wasn’t. In this new environment, I was vividly different. It wasn’t just the color of my skin. It was the core values that I was brought up with. In my opinion, I was raised to be tough outside of my home and submissive and obedient inside. I was trained to live a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde life. In Mount Vernon and the Bronx, NY, this lifestyle was accepted as normal because most of the kids I knew had similar expectations in and outside of their homes. Where I was coming from it was normal to see one of your friends get beaten in public. Greenwich was different, I mean REALLY different. For the first time in my life I saw kids talk back to their parents. They listened in school. However, they took their frustrations out on their parents. This was not true for everyone. However I had never seen a kid talk back to their parents when I moved to Greenwich. I mean I saw,...

Uncategorized
July 30, 2024

Trust without truth

When I was an emotional and somewhat naïve undergraduate student, I wrote a paper on police brutality and excessive force. Despite dedicating significant time to it, I received a C. At the time, I was convinced that my grade was due to the paper’s critical stance on the police, which I then viewed as a white supremacist organization that despised Black people. This sentiment was echoed by my friends, family, and relatives. I believed anyone who disagreed was racist. I avidly read Malcolm X, Nathan McCall, W.E.B. Du Bois, Marcus Garvey, Alex Haley, and Booker T. Washington. I deeply understood the historical struggles of Black Americans. Indeed, it was a struggle, and I believe that we Black Americans are living in far better conditions today compared to fifty years ago and beyond. The further back you go, the worse it gets. In 2012, I was on a college field trip with students who were beginning to explore higher education opportunities. My mentor, who was the acting president of a university, invited us to his office. He delivered a powerful speech, concluding with words that have stayed with me: “Never let your appearance or culture be the excuse you don’t reach,...

Uncategorized
February 26, 2023

4th Street Projects: 5H

5 H was the place! It was my favorite place to be for many reasons. Mainly because it was pretty much the meeting place for all my cousins. It also was the place where my grandmother lived Mount Vernon was the City, New York was the State, and the 4th street projects was the domain. I felt the safest at my grandmother’s house in the projects. I lived in many places in my life with low crime. Although the projects could be dangerous, I felt safe at all times. I attribute that to my grandmother. I had many fights, but everyday life prepared me for those fights, so they were rarely faced with fear. I mean I fought because I was afraid, but I didn’t fear fighting. I feared being hurt. I feared my Parents, Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles, NOT my peers. I didn’t like fighting and I believe I cried during every fight I ever had! My grandmother was the nicest, meanest woman you ever could meet. Her nickname was “mad dog”. It is common for everyone in the projects to have a nickname and mad dog fit her perfectly. She was sweet until you provoked her. Then Lucifer,...

Life Style
January 13, 2023

Bumpsy

Bumpsy, that is his name. Who is that? The man who showed me everything in life that I shouldn’t be, yet I wanted to become. The man who hurt me over and over again. The man who my sisters called Bumpsy. Bumpsy is/was my father. In the Winter of 2021, I forgave my dad and accepted his role in my life. He is the man who my sister and all his friends (none to date I trust) call Bumpsy. I could never call him that. I called him dad because that is who I wanted him too always be. It was not to the age of 41 that I realized what a father was. That is when I began a relationship with my first-born son. His presence forced me to be a father figure. It was not hard, I just told him the truth, good, bad and or neutral. At the age of 49 I am finally confident enough to be a good father. I am also smart enough not to try to make up for my prior shortcomings as a father in the past. I am here for my children now. I don’t baby them and I do not,...

Uncategorized
April 25, 2024

My circle, The power of the Mat!

As I stood on the mat, rooted yet weightless amidst the palpable energy, my mind embarked on a journey. Nine men, all of color on this particular day, were poised to enter tranquility alongside me. I am both a student and a teacher of yoga, still navigating the novice levels, yet to some in the group, I appeared as an expert. Our class unfolds in segments, each spanning 10-15 minutes, with every yogi taking their turn to lead. Each individual possesses a unique profundity that imbues the room with a radiant energy that inspires. As I awaited my turn, I glanced around the room, struck by the remarkable men surrounding me. Three were newly acquainted, their introductions exuding an aura that instantly captured my attention. One regards me as a mentor, young enough to be my son. Two others have been constants in my life for nearly three decades. And then there’s the man I fondly call “the tree,” a figure whispered about in mutual circles for over a decade, whose recent collaboration with me brought immense joy. In that moment, I was in awe, elevated by the sheer magnificence of the company I kept. Taking a deep breath, I,...

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