Wakime Hauser's Blog – Page 8 – 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
- December 3, 2024
Lesson’s vs. The belt

As a 70’s baby, I was brought up by the belt. The belt was the lesson and fear was the,...
- 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,...

- Uncategorized
- June 12, 2023
FORKS
Silver Spoon!
- February 21, 2024

Growth is on YOU!!!

What’s up beautiful people! Today, I want to share with you something deeply personal…

Empowerment in Vermont: My Transformative Weekend with 25 Powerful Men of Color

Have you ever been surrounded by 20 or more men who made you feel…

The Forgotten Art of Navigation

The global positioning system (GPS) has spoiled us. How many people today could navigate…

The little loud ROCK 🪨

While in Vermont, my friend Alexx and I were driving up a gravel road…

First
...
7
8
9
10
20
...
Last

Uncategorized
November 5, 2023

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
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 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.,...

Life Style
August 13, 2023

Growing old with Hip Hop

I wrote this piece back in 2013, and in light of hip hop’s 50th anniversary celebration this weekend, I believe this poem resonates fittingly. Enjoy! Born with this music Hip hop Fatherless soul Hip hop was my guide It showed me the breaks Which I lived Auditory No videos and magazines Well, there was……. Underground Suppressed like the segregated south Trying to gain musical civil rights Breakthrough Run DMC Elementary Rhymes Which to this day, are parts of me Still there was no money I learned the meaning of philosophy Through BDP When dancing earned respect And DJ’s didn’t yell there names Promoting themselves the whole night Stopping the violence Was a mission Fashion was…. Gold Suede Leather Bombers Sheep skins And FOR REAL Most of us fought Hand to hand As I age Hip hop I still breathe I lived through the changes Its common sense I think I love her Well??? It’s a love hate thing Cause I love the music But I hate the game Sex and violence Yeah Kris knew it The art form is gone Hip hop Now has the root of all evil It all about the Benjamin’s And the Benz The ice The,...

Uncategorized
June 3, 2024

Remembering my friend

Thank you. I know I never said that to you when I had the chance. Thank you for being my first friend after I moved to Connecticut. Who would have thought you would live the life you lived back in 1982 on your 13th birthday? Our friendship wasn’t separated by hard feelings. You moved away, and we both moved forward with life. I was taken back when your sister sent me this photo and told me you were gone. I was trying to recall the last time we saw each other. My guess would be over 35 years. Still and all, I remembered how you helped me transition from New York to Greenwich. It was the most difficult transition of my childhood. You were one of my few friends who ever met my father, and it was around this time my father and mother separated. You were there for me during that time, keeping me busy with boy stuff—bike riding, sports, and, of course, MTV videos. We had so much in common, the older brother of two sisters, and now we both shared the responsibility of being the man of the house. Both of us then had to adjust to,...

Books, Fashion, Life Style, Life Style, Photograph, Uncategorized
February 26, 2025

Court house

Walking into the courthouse in 2025 took me way back, way back to a time when my name echoed in these halls too often, when court dates were as routine as paydays, and I was always waiting on a verdict that never truly freed me. I could still feel the weight of those years pressing against my chest like a judge’s gavel slamming down on a fate I couldn’t control. Outside, the familiar sight of hurried last drags on cigarettes painted the same picture of desperation I once knew too well. The nicotine-filled exhales mixed with the cold morning air, swirling like the uncertainty in the eyes of the people waiting to step inside. Some of them laughed, not because life was funny, but because pain sometimes only has two options—tears or laughter. Others sat still, haunted by the unknown, their hands fidgeting with paper summonses or last-minute phone calls to people who couldn’t save them from what was coming. Stepping inside was like stepping into a time capsule. The same metal detectors, the same empty-your-pockets routine, the same worn-out carpets that had soaked up too many broken stories. The air carried a scent you could never quite wash off—a,...

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