Wakime Hauser's Blog – Page 23 – 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
- October 4, 2024
Showing up for???

There’s something I’ve been reflecting on deeply this week—showing up. Whether it’s in the gym, at family events, or in,...
- Uncategorized
- April 2, 2024
Past Present Future

Where do you reside in the vast expanse of time? Are you lost in the tumultuous waters of past mistakes,,...

- Uncategorized
- May 22, 2023
Mr. K
Shades of a Man (Podcast)
- May 30, 2025

Strike

Do you bowl? I do and it has been a blessing to start bowling…

Bumpsy

Bumpsy, that is his name. Who is that? The man who showed me everything…

Start, Struggle, Survive and Succeed

Hello, my name is Wakime and I am soon to be 50 years old.…

Read My Life

Read My life “Delivering happiness” “Starts with Why” “This Native son” Or “Black boy”…

First
...
10
20
21
22
23

Books
February 6, 2024

I know all about being born with a plastic spoon. A plastic spoon might be found in the trash because it’s meant for one-time use only. Being born with a plastic spoon means one starts life at the bottom. One may have hard working parents who serve as good role models and provide what’s needed. However, when they pass away, they may not leave behind much except debt. Saying I was born with a plastic spoon isn’t a knock on my parents; it’s just the truth. I was born poor, with parents who were socially and economically uneducated. The likelihood of me graduating from college and earning a degree was extremely low. Yet, I earned a master’s degree and beyond, defining what hard work and determination are. My plastic spoon was fortunately handed to me in the 70s, before cell phones and computers became common items. I didn’t even realize I was poor or different until I moved to Greenwich, CT, from the Bronx in 5th grade. Being light-skinned in Mount Vernon and the Bronx, NY, led to me being called a ‘white boy.’ There was no such judgment when I moved to Greenwich; I was clearly black and clearly,...

Life Style
October 15, 2023

Perception Shift

Perception Shift I was having quite a day! Allow me to elaborate. On my way to North Carolina to visit my father and sister, whom I haven’t seen and haven’t been on good terms with, I encountered a problem. As I walked away from the car, I realized I didn’t have my phone. I distinctly remembered leaving it in the car, so it must have slipped out of my pocket and been picked up by a bystander who took it along. I tracked it to New York, then New Jersey, and down the coast. I gathered my old phone and prepared for my journey. I even changed my flight and ended up with a window seat, which I rarely choose. Things seemed to be going well until a taller gentleman was in the aisle seat when I arrived, leaving me with the window seat. But wait, could my luck improve further? It did when the middle seat remained vacant! Then, a cheerful, larger man arrived, and he pointed to the seat. In my head, I thought, “WTF.” He was smiling and appeared to be the happiest middle-aged man on the plane. As he struggled to get situated in his seat,,...

Life Style
November 5, 2024

Election Day!

As I pulled up to the polls at Kenney Elementary School in Manchester, Connecticut, I couldn’t help but reflect on the first time I ever voted back in 1992. I was young, born a Democrat, casting my vote for Bill Clinton without much thought. Back then, voting felt straightforward, a quick alignment with what I’d always known. But this time, over 32 years later, I felt something entirely different. I felt the weight of responsibility, yes, but also a deep questioning of the act itself—a reflection on whether voting, as it stands, truly aligns with my values. Time has taught me more about life, about this country, and about the principles that should ground our society. My experiences as a Black man, an independent thinker, and a father have reshaped how I see my place here and the responsibility I bear. Today, when I vote, I don’t do it out of habit but from a conscious sense of duty. Yet I can’t help but wonder if casting my vote is, in part, an acceptance of a system that no longer if ever seems to serve us all. It has never served people who look like me in my humble opinion.,...

Uncategorized
November 5, 2023

Public Schools

I have been a teacher for over 22 years. I have dedicated 18 of those years to public education. My advice to any parent approaching school age would be to consider homeschooling or enrolling your child in a private school. My teaching journey began during the era of the “No Child Left Behind” (NCLB) initiative, which aimed to prioritize the academic achievement of traditionally under-served groups of children, including low-income students, students with disabilities, and students from various racial and ethnic backgrounds. In theory, this initiative seemed commendable, but in practice, it has unfortunately left many students behind. In the past, if students didn’t meet the general requirements, they often had to repeat a grade. I recall this from my own school days in the 1980s, where some friends repeated grades due to a lack of effort or a slower learning pace, and yet, they lead successful lives today. Notably, these friends were of diverse backgrounds. Back then, there was a clear standard that students had to meet to progress, and if they didn’t, they either attended summer school or repeated the grade. This standard was upheld. However, NCLB has created a disconnect between the classroom and real-life consequences. I’ve,...

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,...

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