Posts Tagged ‘journey’

Love Like Her: Empathy

Tuesday, July 5th, 2022

“Oh, it goes beyond sympathy. Sympathy is to understand what someone feels; empathy is to project your imagination so that you actually feel what the other person is feeling: you put yourself in the other person’s place. Do I make myself clear?”

Funny Face. Directed by Stanley Donen, Paramount Pictures, 1957.

If I could have any superpower I would sprout a field of flowers that would give people empathy once a flower is picked. Empathy is a selfless gift all people need to possess, yet most do not. It’s a social intelligence people should learn when they’re small: to treat people how you want to be treated

“I don’t want to have sex with someone, unless, they’re my boyfriend,” I’d tell him, “we don’t have to be in love. I just want to make sure it’s worth it, I guess.” It was a rule I made for myself when I decided I was ready, but it was a rule I let slip. Nearly a week later, he would write in the essay I was helping him with: “my girlfriend is annoying.” I decided to ignore it. People should vocalize the people they want? He kept it up though, he would suggest in little ways I was already his girlfriend without ever communicating it. Maybe he was afraid? Maybe, even though I vocalized that I wanted to be in a relationship with him, he was still insecure? I kept extending myself to him in that way, collecting more and more flowers. Perhaps, some part of him thought I would change my mind. I understood how scary that is and so I let him in. Once I did, he changed. I would always think of him in some capacity. I thought of how my every word, action, and mood would affect him. I wanted him to be happy and I wanted to make sure I was making him happy, that’s all. When that was not reciprocated, I could taste the way things would end before they did.

During the evening of my mother’s and father’s relationship, my dad was incarcerated, my brother was on his way, and my mom was tired. Before he went away, for what was the next five years of my life, there were no more blockbuster dates. My dad had his own apartment and my mom and I lived in the same house just a few floors higher. She went to work a lot and sometimes I’d even go with her. The clues of separation only come to me now. I saw my dad less and less, but after a long week, he was my weekend vacation. I was in sweet little kid bliss. Even when we all hung out separately everything was okay. When my dad was arrested I saw their closing come to a halt. Whatever happened between them was now in a back pocket. When my dad needed someone most he knew who was in his corner, despite everything.

I knew the boy stopped thinking of me when I was no longer something to have. It was as if we were no longer friends. He didn’t want to hang out and play video games, talk, or watch movies anymore. He would only come around for two things: sex and empathy. He would always make up excuses that were tailored in an effort to get what he wanted. I knew I would never let him feel the way he was making me feel, but I stayed. I couldn’t understand why the relationship was changing the way that it did. From there, we were on a rollercoaster that was just in for a loop when we decided to quarantine together those first covid months. He had nothing to prove when it was just us but he never stopped being apathetic. When he became so naturally codependent on me and I decided I would never allow myself to depend on someone like him. “I don’t need you,” I’d tell him in the kindest way possible. “I can take care of myself,” I’d remind him. “I just want you, not need” he had to remember. During our true finale, when I told him, “you always said such mean things to me, I didn’t deserve that.” He would respond with “and you did too.” When I asked him to name examples he’d bring up those old conversations of how I never needed him, how he did me, and how I told it to him.   

I learned that undoubtedly from all the women in my family, especially my mother. Caring comes naturally to a woman in a relationship otherwise she couldn’t call it her own. Regardless of herself, she is supposed to tend, water, feed, and love so fiercely. My mother, she showed enough care and love for both of them to exist as parents. She wrote letters and letters reminding him of how much love he had.  She couldn’t bear the thought of being taken away from her daughter’s first day of kindergarten and her son’s first day of life. She wrote all the things she wanted and would want to hear if her mistakes had pulled her away from the things she loved most. Her heart broke in all the ways she thought his heart was. She put so much time and energy into her empathy. Her only remedy for being taken for granted was to never need in return. To take care of herself second and to depend on no one because how awful would it feel to receive love the same amount of love you give for it to be taken away. 

When she was finally on the outside, having that free time she then thought of herself instead. Picking flowers and actually smelling them. He was so far away now taking up less space and there was finally room to breathe and become. To become someone who wasn’t a pile of everyone else’s feelings. That is when she learned to dance. 

I never believed that everything he did and said was what I did not deserve. I kept telling myself that I wasn’t good enough and that was the best excuse he wore. I was angry at myself all the time and when I wanted to be hurt I’d call him. I didn’t love him. I wouldn’t ever love him in that way even if we were happy. But, I knew then I thought that was the love I thought I deserved. I let him treat me the same way I treated myself and the way I have always been treated. 

If I could have any superpower I would sprout a field of flowers that would give people empathy once a flower is picked. Not only would they learn to treat others how they’d want to be treated, but they’d learn to have empathy for themselves. When I  take the time to understand my feelings and give myself room to feel those feelings without shame, that’s empathy. I am going to be stuck with myself for the rest of my life. And as I grow older I find I would never treat someone the way I do myself. I can be unkind, ruthless to my brain and body, and still push myself to do and be in situations that steal from my person. The first step toward receiving what I deserve from the world is by creating a blueprint. 

Edited by Jackson Bailey
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By Melodie Goncalves

Melodie Goncalves is a rising senior at Rhode Island College pursuing her degree in English/Creative Writing and Sociology. She has passions for reading, writing, caring for others, and music. Spending lots of her time with friends and family.

For over 20 years, the Campus Clipper has been offering awesome student discounts in NYC,  from the East Side to Greenwich Village. Along with inspiration, the company offers students a special coupon booklet and the Official Student Guide, which encourages them to discover new places in the city and save money on food, clothing, and services. At the Campus Clipper, not only do we help our interns learn new skills, make money, and create wonderful e-books, we give them a platform to teach others. Check our website for more student savings and watch our YouTube video showing off some of New York City’s finest students during the Welcome Week of 2015.

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Love Like Her: Movie Kisses

Friday, June 24th, 2022

As a little girl, every so often, my teenage parents and I would go to a Blockbuster, buy snacks, and escape the world to watch a movie together. We would return home to a room just below three apartments, occupied by my mother’s parents, their children, and their children’s children. As a three/four-year-old, I grew up constantly running upstairs, fighting with my cousins, hopping fences, singing Keyshia Cole with my mom’s baby sister, crying, running, and dancing. It was so loud all the time – except for our little room in the basement where I first met love. Just like many others, my first love manifested in the first home I can remember. In that home with the scraggly carpet and the coldest air, love was the personification of two people: my mom and dad. Every detail of the love they gave to each other and gave to me illustrated the way I would soon love. With that, I learned there were parts of loving that were meant for movies, and then there were parts that hid in basements. 

I did not become interested in boys until I felt I truly had to. I was a kid busy being an adult for most of my life. I was always told I was so mature—so socially intelligent for my age, and I was never worried for. During my second semester in college, I was all the way down in Florida, purposefully far from that first home and all the people that occupied it. I was able to try on different versions of myself and be a kid in that way. I had only myself to think about until I met someone familiar. We met in a weird way; his best friend and I were interested in each other, and because this familiar boy and I were both part of the low sum of brown kids at this Florida college we quickly became friends. We hung out all the time, we talked, and we played video games. Our personalities aligned well, and again, something about him was just so familiar. I was convinced that the familiarity was something meaningful, so I stuck around. I got into fights with my friends about him, even letting an important friendship slip away, but I counted on that feeling I had with him. I protected him in all the ways a person could and began to care deeply. One night alone with him, we watched movies, got snacks, and escaped the world for a little while.  He never offered me a conversation with my own spotlight—everything was always about him. I mustered up courage anyhow and told him how I needed a friend because everything I knew so far about college made me sad. It was too different, and I wasn’t connecting the way everyone else was. I explained that as a first-generation, I had always wanted to go to college, never really understanding what it was. And when vulnerability poured from me, a gate opened for him, and things started to play like a film. 

My dad always wanted to be the favorite and my mom always wanted to make sure I was okay. In our little home, they had horrendous fights. My mom would always be sure that he was cheating and they’d scream back and forth. If I knew anything about love then, it’s that it was all about loyalty. Since my mom was the one who I was with the most, I knew she was as loyal as they came. She completed little acts of service with such love and effort that even in her complete exhaustion, she would still prioritize the person she loved. She’d give and give so much to my dad and be returned with clues that he was with someone else. Because my mother made me brush my hair into tight ponytails so I wouldn’t get head lice, and because he bought me a new toy every week, I was loyal to him too. “Mommy, you crazy,” I’d say. “Stop yelling at daddy.” It was so natural of me to take his side because it was the side that was always taken by her, too, even when she was hurt. That kind of loyalty, I learned from my mother, and it is the kind of loyalty I carry into my relationships, today. 

Later on that movie-esque night, we turned on some music and tried out some goofy dance moves until the gate opened wider and our dancing slowed. I was never interested in any boy like I was interested in him. I wrote a plot in my head about how this night could end perfectly, and he followed it perfectly. I wanted to see where the night could go, and eventually, we kissed. It was a comfortable kiss. I didn’t want anything less and certainly not anything more, because that sort of thing didn’t happen in movies—not in moments like these. He looked at me and said, “I think I’m falling in love with you.” I couldn’t say anything back, of course. I just kind of looked at him, shocked. No one had ever said those words to me before. It was scary and special, and he was giving me everything I wanted. Oh, how familiar it was. 

It wasn’t very cool to live in a basement, according to everyone and their kid. They explained that it was more of a sad thing, but I never minded their judgment because my dad bought me the coolest of things. My dad prioritized wants over needs, and because I always had the things I wanted, life was euphoric. And since my mother would give and give, she would also never need. After all, it wasn’t good to need or depend on someone else. 

Soon enough on that night, the boy would ask for something that would lead me closer to his true intentions. Even though no one had ever wanted me like this and I had never had a night like this, it was disingenuous, and I couldn’t admit that. I was desperate for this story—desperate to be loved—and he reminded me so much of home. I found out later in our relationship that he was not the kindest person, but I didn’t need to be told I was beautiful. I learned that he was not the most truthful, but I didn’t need him to be genuine. I knew he wasn’t the most empathetic, but then again, I didn’t need to be cared for. 

Somehow and somewhere I found myself giving more to the boy than I did to myself because I just wanted him around. I counted on those movie nights because I was convinced that was really all I needed. I was trying to replicate a fragile love between my mother and father. That was all I knew love was. 


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By Melodie Goncalves

Melodie Goncalves is a rising senior at Rhode Island College pursuing her degree in English/Creative Writing and Sociology. She has passions for reading, writing, caring for others, and music. Spending lots of her time with friends and family.


For over 20 years, the Campus Clipper has been offering awesome student discounts in NYC,  from the East Side to Greenwich Village. Along with inspiration, the company offers students a special coupon booklet and the Official Student Guide, which encourages them to discover new places in the city and save money on food, clothing, and services. At the Campus Clipper, not only do we help our interns learn new skills, make money, and create wonderful e-books, we give them a platform to teach others. Check our website for more student savings and watch our YouTube video showing off some of New York City’s finest students during the Welcome Week of 2015.

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Something to Know About Me Is…

Thursday, March 3rd, 2022

I always strolled through the back alleys of school since I was in 6th grade, taking paths that were not hidden, but also were not sought after by other students. The only reason I knew about them is because I was always close to my teachers and developed friendly relationships with my classmates. This allowed me to hear first hand what was going on in my school. 

The high school that I attended was Gramercy Arts, a small school occupying one floor of the Washington Irving Building in the lower east side of Manhattan. I entered this school because I did not get into any other high schools in the city. This was not because I did not have good grades. This is because the selection process for high school in New York is like a lottery. Everything is unnecessarily competitive as soon as you leave elementary school. 

I have heard of blessings in disguise, but this one was more of a blessing buried under the concrete of a 100 year old, 14 story building. Adorned with carved wood and 20th century paintings in the lobby, this is where I learned how to dig. Most students thought it was a terrible school, and on the surface it may have seemed that way, with the metal detectors and the 6 high schools combined in the one building. I tried my best not to think about this and look at this experience for what it was… school. 

Somehow my discomfort with social settings landed me in the library every day for lunch. I was not friends with the librarians though because they would always catch me sitting in the midst of the bookshelves either doing homework, reading, or on my phone. Some days I would find myself in the room designated for the YMCA on my campus, and this is where the digging began. It was small room that allowed for more intimate connections with students and gave me the space to talk about a range of topics and break out of my invisible shell. 

All of this does not mean that you need to be like me and hangout in corners by yourself. This is just my experience to share with others. It is always important to know about the journey to understand the lessons. With that being said, let’s get into making connections that will be the foundations for your schooling experiences. 

In my experience, I formed connections between people who I slowly began to relate to. The kids in the library told me about the YMCA room, which was open on select days. Track where your opportunities come from, how they come to you, who is the messenger, and which you choose to act on. We all have unique experiences, but the one thing that we can all relate to is the constant that occurs in all of our lives. It is like if you always end up stubbing the same toe throughout your life, or if people come to you and say the same things about how they perceive you based on a first impression. These are constants, and they will also apply to areas of your life that seem miraculous. Tracking your opportunities will allow you to find out more about yourself and the types of opportunities you and your unique existence attract.



By Miashe Barnes

My name is Miashe, and I go to Parsons School of Design, as a communications design major. I never thought art school would be my path, but alas here I am and loving it so far. I want to share some of my experience with others with faith that I can help some who may be a bit confused or hesitant on where to go. I am not going to show you the way, but I will just provide a helping hand to let you know that the trials of life do not need to be faced alone. Cosas de la vida mis amigos. With that being said, please tune in for some tips and tricks for assistance in using the tools you are given in school to explore. 


For over 20 years, the Campus Clipper has been offering awesome student discounts in NYC,  from the East Side to Greenwich Village. Along with inspiration, the company offers students a special coupon booklet and the Official Student Guide, which encourages them to discover new places in the city and save money on food, clothing, and services.  At the Campus Clipper, not only do we help our interns learn new skills, make money, and create wonderful e-books, we give them a platform to teach others. Check our website for more student savings and watch our YouTube video showing off some of New York City’s finest students during the Welcome Week of 2015.

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Where to Go After Graduation

Tuesday, September 15th, 2015

By Daniela Bizzell

While it may seem years away, and maybe it actually is, graduating from undergrad will eventually happen. For some of you, this may seem like the happiest day of your life – those entering senior year probably could have graduated yesterday and been satisfied. For others, however, the mere thought of leaving the four walls of a classroom, the comfort of dining dollars, and the sanctity of scheduling, is traumatizing.

What do you do after you graduate?

For some, internships turn into full time positions. An office job at 22 in a field you may actually like? I’ll take it. In fact, I’m currently working for the Campus Clipper, an internship I took sophomore year of college – I graduated this past May.

There is nothing wrong with settling in right after you finish school; if anything, you may feel a whole hell of a lot more secure by doing so. However, it isn’t the only step you could take in your path towards creating a meaningful post-grad life. Finding a job, settling in, planning your 401 K isn’t the only direction you can take when you finally get the diploma. Spending 10 hours a day scanning Linkedin, SimplyHired, or your school’s career site for some sort of paid position isn’t the only way of life once you can no longer call yourself a student.

There are other options.

One option – in addition to a plethora of others; get creative here, folks – is to travel. Granted, the idea of travel most likely sparks images of plane rides and dollar signs. “I’m going to Paris to find myself,” “I’m backpacking through the Swiss Alps because I need a little adventure in my life.” If this is your lifestyle, more power to you. If it isn’t, don’t worry. After I finished school, my travels were cheap, within the country, and in my 12-year-old Toyota Corolla. Yes, money was spent, that, my friends, is unavoidable. However, less money was spent, and just as many experiences were had.

Yes, after graduating a university tucked away in Manhattan’s West Village, I travelled back upstate, grabbed my car, a couple of good friends, and hit the road for a five week journey across the country. As impulsive as this may seem, and as impulsive as I’d like it to seem, so much – and I mean so much – meticulous planning went into this.

Therefore, as a survivor of my five week crusade to see America, “research new places to live,” and inevitably find myself, I have a bit of knowledge on how to travel after college. Because knowledge is needed, graduating is, in fact, terrifying, and you’ll never realize you’ll need help until you’re in immediate need of help.

So keep up with my weekly posts on travelling after school, because you can do it while still being a real person after the travelling comes to a decided stop.

For some specifics, follow my confessional story here.

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