Bottom Line

So you wanna KNOW me. . . Well you already know my name is Adam. You know that my sister Shy is my light and my boy Vusani is my closest bregin. . . More? Alright, but keep in mind you're about to step into some deep shit. . .

My dad is a money fountain. I say that because all he does is pass 'round his cake like its gonna fix everything. I don't even know why I call him dad. I don't rate him and for damn sure I don't respect him. I can't respect someone that blamed me for mom going to jail. What reason did he have to say that? There isn't one. Only that he can't handle his own guilt so he passes it on to me. For that reason, you won't catch me saying two words to him. As far as I'm concerned hes just the dude that walks in, eats up all the food me and Shy cook, and then goes into his office and keeps his eyes burned on the laptop screen. . . I wish mom was around now. I know for sure if she was, things wouldn't be fucked up the way that they are now.

Nothing meant more to me than the gang. It was right up there with the fams, but that was then. At the time it felt good to come up and take the lead and make a name for us. Until I realized that I can't help anyone from a jail cell so I left. Even now, Vusani still doesn't understand. It's my family, no, it's SHYLA that keeps me from doin that stupid hood shit Vusani keeps trying to drag me into. All I hear from him is "you've lost your edge dog. I don't know if the streets could even use you now that you've gone soft." It's all in perspective. Vusani calls it weakness. I call it prioritizing. Mind you, I still deal a lil bit and of course I smoke dat kush, but I keep myself as clean as im ever gonna be just for Shy. I can't fall apart because of all this shit goin on in my head. She needs to SEE that we can make it out of the hood shit and do something proper with ourselves and I think she's starting to see it now so I DEFINITELY can't slip.

I only wish my mindset would rub of on Vusani. Don't twist it he's my closest boy but I honestly think he's smarter than that hood shit he just doesn't believe that there's more to life. That's why I don't want him anywhere near Shyla because I know how we used to do. We used to treat girls like them round the way chicks: talk to it for a while, hit it, then pass her on the sidewalk like nothing happened. But the way he looks at her. . . almost makes me sick to think of what could happen. And I tell him time and again "Forget it. That's my lil sis." But on and on he goes. I swear to God above that if I ever catch him making moves, I will shove my foot so far up his ass he'll only be able to taste my kicks for three weeks after. Vusani thinks that because I have morals now, I no longer have it in me to fuck him up. DEAD WRONG. To tell the truth, if I ever caught them together, I don't know which one of them I'd hurt first. There's only one thing left that I can say, and that's when it comes to my sister, he's on such thin ice it's not even funny. And the second he slips, I won't ask questions. I'll just take him outside and deal with his case the way I used to deal with mans back in the day. . . SO TREAD LIGHTLY VUSANI!

The streets don't need me anymore - *Ad@m*

This is Vusani

I have no place to stay, maybe I can stay at Adams place, because I have to calm myself down!! I owe money to the landlord, to adam and to the bigger homi. Plus, my dad is trying to tell me how to be a man, and TEACH me, but he wasn't there for my mother, he wasn't there when she was in the hospital, It was me, I was there, and now he is trying to teach me?! A lot of people think Im crazy, like Adam, but what I like about Adam is that he has a family to go home to, he has a sister Shyla, who is the kind of girl that will act uneasy and hard to get when she has a crush on you! Fuck, she's too much, Oh I got it, Im going to tell Adam to rob a convient store with me, and we'll cut the money 50/50, then he can prove to me that he is not a coward, and that he is still down with the gang!

ahh!! What am I doing? Sometimes I wish I was a kid again, I wouldn't have to deal with these responsibilities, I wouldn't have to deal with the jail time, and I wouldn't have to deal with the pain of robbing my own kind!! Im gonna survive the jail time though!, Im gonna make it through! ANd when Im back out, Im gonna be OG!! The fuck is my dad gonna do, and the fucking cops can't stop a soldier, Im a soldier! Im a soldier...

Shyla's Monologue

My Story

Hey, my name is Shyla and I am powerful beyond measure. Well, that and I am a sixteen year old grade 11 student at a Toronto High School. My favourite flower and colour is tulip, which is a shade of purple that means, “You will be famous!” I absolutely adore chocolate covered anything and extra cheesy pizza. I live with my Father, and my 17 year old brother Adam. My mother is currently incarcerated so; it’s good to know that Adam has my back. I can’t say that much for my dad though. He thinks the way to successfully raise a child is to give them money. I mean don’t get it twisted we’re not rich or anything, but whenever I say I miss my mom, instead of talking about it, he’ll pull out a five dollar bill! Hasn’t anybody told him money can’t buy happiness?

It’s all good though, my girls and I use the pity cash toward our “living funds” anyway. Which includes drugs, alcohol and of course shopping; we love to look ‘fly’. I don’t think I could survive without Martina and Kim; we are a family for real. However, sometimes the things they do are a little overboard. Nevertheless, we run that school with ease. We get more respect than all the teachers and the principal combined, and they are all scared to do anything anyway. Everybody knows that if you try to mess with us, oh I feel sorry for you because I’ll tear up a person for real. I really am I nice person though, it’s when you get on my bad side that we have a problem. Surprisingly, we do pretty good in school, I mean we almost hit honour role last year! Secretly, we all want to make something of ourselves, but sometimes I wonder if we even know how.
In the neighbourhood we live in, only the tough survive. That’s why we all got to stick together, to me; friendship is the most important thing. Recently however, TT and Kim revealed their newest business venture to me. This involved sleeping with random guys for nothing except drugs and cash. My girls get nothing but love from me so it honestly hurts to hear that they’d keep something like that behind my back. Especially since TT’s so much better than to sleep with those guys and Kim’s so much smarter than to get them for her. Worst part is they did it on my mom’s birthday. However, I never got to tell them that part because they were so caught up in fighting with each other. I just don’t want TT to catch some disease or for the two of them to be caught up in a bad situation just like my mom. I'm kinda the logical one in that sense. Because if I lost one of them, I honestly don’t know what I would do.

I like to say the three of are ‘Starz’, in reality we all love to act and sing, that’s why we took drama. Nobody will ever get us to admit that though, and they better not try. TT and Kim have talked about writing songs, and yes of course I was excluded from that conversation. I’m pretty used to feeling left out sometimes, I mean they have known each other longer. The three of us would make a wicked girl group though, especially with our singing and dancing on point. I think our tough skin makes us 100% compatible with the music biz. And what a perfect way to get ourselves out of our current situation and make money; better yet, Adam could be our manager! My mom loved to sing and act, just like me; she gave up on her dream though. Fortunately for me, I have no intention of giving up mine.

The whole situation with my mom began one day when I came home from school looking for her. Only to find out from Adam that she was taken to jail. My dad came home soon after and said he didn’t want to talk about it. But of course he slipped me a five dollar bill. The worst part is that I never even got to say goodbye. My mom was my favourite person in this whole entire world. That’s why I thank God for bringing me TT and Kim. They prove to me that I am truly blessed.
My mother had one brother and my dad had two sisters but they died at a young age. Which explains why my father seems to isolate himself from painful situations. When my mom was around, our family used to get together all the time, that’s all different now though. Since after my mom went to jail, Uncle Joseph moved to New York and our grandparents live in the Caribbean so we hardly ever them. I love Granny though (my dad’s mother), first of all she can actually talk to people, and she is an amazing listener. No matter what I’m going through all she has to say is, “Keep your head up baby”, and it’s like automatically everything is better.
The one thing my dad is good at is teaching Adam and I about what it means to be black, and racial discrimination. He says that’s why others refer to the kids in our neighbourhood as ‘troubled’. Thing is, the more people say that about you, the more you start to believe it. Adam never lets me though; he keeps reminding me of all the good things I got going on. And he always warns me against the situations I get myself into, and even though I still go through with it anyway, he never once said, “I told you so.” No matter how unsympathetic my friends can sometimes be, or how quickly my moods can shift, he will always be there for me. I just want to make Mom, Adam, Dad and Granny proud by making something of myself, to show those ignorant people who constantly label us as ‘troubled’, how wrong they really are.

I’m just happy we are all in the same drama class; I mean that place is a serious family reunion. You got my girls, Adam, Kim’s sister, a guy that I think likes Martina, my brother’s friend Vusani and one weird kid but who cares about him. Vusani is a very complex person to me. He puts up this bullet proof exterior like nothing in the world could faze him. Yet, whenever I look into his eyes, I see pain. I have know idea what it is or where it comes from but I have this dominant feeling that it’s something deep. The only weird thing is that he’s always staring at me; I hate that because it makes me feel like I got something on my face! About our teacher, secretly, I think he is straight up ‘greezy’, I love his class. But of course he will never know because I am good at keeping secrets. This year should be interesting; I think there may be love in the air for a few people. As for me, I have to stay strong for my girls, and live every day as best I can. Besides unless ‘bodyguard’ Adam approves, I probably won’t have a man until I am 50. Of course, I wouldn’t put myself past hiding it from him, if I find someone I really like. We will see what happens though.

For now my girls, Adam and I got open drama class as our safe place; a place where we can develop our secret natural love and ability for the art.

Because having an abundance of physical strength makes me powerful. But the internal confidence and strength I gain from performing and having talent, makes me powerful beyond measure.

~Shy~

Ben-e-facto

Hey, I am Ben and I am 17 years old. They call me a loner, a loser, a depressed piece of shit. I know who I am and I am none of those. People like to judge others at my school, they think that everyone should have labels - the school slut, the gangster bully, and the suicidal loner. Most people don't really talk to me, as they think I am some freak foreign nerd. But before I delve into that, let me back track a little bit and tell you my about my history, the history of the dusty philosopher.

When I was 4 years old, the most dearest, closest, and loving person passed away right before my eyes - my skillful father. He taught me everything about life - from fishing to riding my first bike and most importantly how to take care of myself. My mother called him an alcoholic fuck and a abuser, but I knew that wasnt true; shes a compulsive liar. He died of lung cancer and I saw him slowly become frail and weak - losing all his hair from the constant chemo treatments he was receiving. He didnt look like the father I once knew, he looked more and more like fuckin Gandhi. But I still loved him, he was the only person I cared for and God took him away from me, its bullshit. After his death, my older brother Sage, my mom, and I immigrated to Toronto from Bombay. I felt like a refugee in Darfur, we were poor, hungry, and cold. See after my father's death - my family went through a financial crisis, since he was the only breadwinner of the family. We were on the Canadian welfare system, saving every penny and my maa was working under the tables at local restaurants were they paid cash. I felt sick, disgusted, like a parasite to the Canadian government. I didnt wanna live my life this way and everyone around me was changing. My brother Sage was growing up and only cared for himself; he was a self-fish prick. My mother, was seeing someone new every month; she was the local gold-digger trying to provide a "better" living for "all of us"; bullshit. How I hated my life. We eventually got outta the slums in Regent Park and moved away to Sherbourne when I was 14. We had gotten out the welfare system and as my mom liked to say "we were climbing the social ladder". hahaha, what a petty thing to say. Anyways, I entered highschool with my head high, thinking that it was going to be a new beginning for me. Was I fucken wrong. I knew it from the first day, that highschool was just my life within boundaries and different people - same old shit different day. People seemed to think I was some weirdo, just because I didnt wear your Abercrombie and Bitch clothes or your local thug wear. I didnt care what they thought, I was gonna be myself, no matter the circumstances. I wasnt "slick" with the ladies and I wasnt the captain of the basketball team. I didnt talk much, but I was tended to pretty well in school. My favourite subject was chemistry, something about it was so riveting. It was like, you can mix the good with the bad and create something amazing. Thats how I wanted my life to be, kinda ironic, isnt it?

Anyways, after my first year, my mom thought, I was "depressed and lonely", didnt believe a word outta that womens mouth. Anyways, i was dragged to the psychologist and long story short i was diagnosed with depression. They gave me these little pills and say that its gonna make me feel better, cheer me up like happy Gilmour. Nothing has happened, but for some reason, it does ease down the memories of the past. I love taking it, and i cant live without them. My knees get weak, eyes get red, i feel relaxed. I love the feeling. Every once in a while i attend these sessions with a psychologist to talk about my anger issues, feelings, its kinda retarded. It doesnt even help me express myself.

All I wanted outta life was to be accepted, to belong to someone, and be heard. I want someone to share my feelings with, and it feels like noone is there fore me. My mom is to busy making money, my brother is off leading his own life, while I reminiscence of what coulda been. For some reason, theres this girl I liked since highschool, Martina, she just seems like everything i want in a girl. From her looks, to her, very presence. I feel like, she can really understand me, and i can really understand her. She doesnt seem to think that though, shes too concerned with what others are gonna think or do. I feel like, there is something deeper inside of her,that she just wants to let out. Most guys label her as the slut, whore, someone selling her body. I hate it, when they see that, to me shes like..like..something beyond words. I wish she felt the same way for me. Fuck I sound so retarded now, like a obsessive lover.

I need to change my life, my outlook, I need to figure everything out. But I need help, even though I hate admitting that. I wish someone would come talk to me, Drama class is the only place, where I can forget about my past and immerse myself in a different setting and become someone else. Its my only therapy, my only hope.

Monologue Reminder / Accessories

Hello all,

I see that a couple of you have posted your character monologues (first person - "My name is .....") Well done!
But many have not ventured yet.

You all only have one day left to do this very valuable exploration of your character's voice, so please get cracking. The deadline is Sunday's meeting.

From now on you will be receiving each other's posts in your email Inbox, as I have linked the blog to googlegroups.

Here is another bit of homework: Please bring with you AT LEAST 2 ITEMS OF CLOTHING, OR ACCESSORIES OF YOUR CHARACTER.
Could be shades, belt, shoes, book, or anything else.

Look forward to seeing you all on Sunday
Love
FA

Kimberly's Monologue

Hi I’m Kim. I am 16 years old and in grade 11. I live with my mom and my half sister Giselle in Toronto. I sometimes stay with my dad on weekends but he is not really regular with that. My sister is one year younger than me, but she fast-tracked so we’re in the same grade. We really don’t get along. Her entire essence and being bothers me to be honest. Life just seems so much easier for her in all aspects. And why?—I don’t know, just straight luck. Just goes to show how little control we have over our own lives. Guess I just must have called tails on God’s coin toss when it was heads.

You could say I’m angry. Angry at exactly who I don’t know, but I’m angry at my life and how ugly it is. I partially blame my mom for making so many mistakes and choices that I have to pay for now. The first was having a kid with a total dead beat 16 years ago. A black dead beat at that. It was a little girl and she named her Kimberly. The second would be getting knocked up AGAIN right after… with a different dude. This dude was white and had a good job and was happy for a baby and thought she was gift from heaven. I guess there’s something wrong with my mom though, because he left her too. But he never left his little angel, Giselle. So here’s this white woman now with two illegitimate children of different races. She would say who cares and what difference does it make, it’s just colour. But I see how people stare at us, at me—the only part that doesn’t seem to fit the pattern even though I came first. She thinks I don’t know, but I know why we never see any of her family anymore, not even granny. I over heard her talking to Auntie Lisa on the phone saying that two summer’s ago when we went up North to a cottage Auntie Ann was saying to her and granny that “ya know, Kim is really pretty for being half black”. I’m guessing there was some sort of blow out or argument and Auntie Ann wasn’t the only one who felt that way, because we haven’t seen any of them since. My own grandmother! Now you tell me race doesn’t matter. Of course mom can barely afford to feed and house us and Dad’s child support cheques are FAR and in between. Giselle’s dad does his share but he only has one kid to support in our house remember. She has some new gadget every week and I know she always comes home with new clothes or jewelry from daddy dearest even though she tries to hide it. Mom tries to get me some extras once and a while when she can but I told her it’s lame and I know what she’s doing. This brings me to mom’s mistake number three: thinking I’m going to sit there and take all the bullshit she’s thrown at me and call us a family. What are the functions of a family? Whatever they are, they’re not being sustained here. So, I made my own family: Martina and Shyla, my girls.

Me and my girls are a unit. We’re tight and don’t fuck around. We love each other and we support each other. We hustle, we grind and we get the things we need. There’s nothing out of our reach with the three of us together. TT, Shy and I run the halls of our high school. Nobody messes with us and I know who I am there. I realize that I can’t afford to live on my own yet, so I still live at home, but I have become really skilled at using the people around me to get what I want. I keep my grades up which keeps my mom appeased so she doesn’t ask me questions and I can run my business. Putting food in the house and giving us transportation money is pretty much as far as her parenting goes. She’s not really home often because she works two jobs, so I just delete the messages from the vice principal when I get suspended for fights or skipping. If it really comes down to it, I can convince my dad to call into the school to back me up, by crying racism. He doesn’t believe in the education institute anyway. As far as he’s concerned everyone’s racist. And Giselle, she keeps her mouth shut. She wouldn’t dare tell on me, because she knows she’ll have hell to pay. They’re all so predictable.

Shyla, TT and I get into a lot of shit. We drink, we party, and smoke weed. We just want to have fun and not think about how much life sucks. We make money whenever and however we can whether it’s stealing, dealing, fucking some chump, whatever. I always have to look fly and rock the latest shit so I do what I have to do to get it. I don’t really care what the law says is right or wrong because I don’t think the law was made for people like me. Giselle is on my case all the time with her stupid ass, but like my dad says she was born on the right side of the law and she’ll never get it. Despite his drunkenness and irresponsibility my dad has taught me a lot about the world I live in and what it means to be black. He taught me to be realistic and that life is not a fairy tale. There are barriers and walls everywhere for black people he says and don’t think that being half white makes me exempt. I don’t take offense to this because I know that he’s just trying to make me stronger. This is his way of loving me. He told me that my mom will never understand. And she doesn’t. I know for sure she loves me, but we just can’t relate. I guess in this case it’s what’s on the outside that counts.

You know what maybe that’s true for everything in life. Fuck being a good person and looking for the best in others. That’s bullshit and you just get hurt. It’s all about what do you have and what can you do for me. You have to be tough and fierce because animals prey on the weak and we’re all just animals. What do I see in my future? Well, I don’t ever want to end up like my mom; she got fucked over in all senses of the word. I used to think I wanted to get married and have a family so I could prove to myself that happy families do exist, but more and more everyday this becomes a fading image. I don’t think that that kind of trust and devotion from a man is possible. I know I want to get out of this ghetto. I don’t want to hustle the rest of my life it’s just all I know how to do right now. I really love music and TT and I were thinking maybe of writing some songs and making our own album. We haven’t thought of a name yet for the group but, either way it’ll be hot. And then if we make lots of money I’ll adopt a bunch of poor black children, move far away and give them a life no one ever thought possible. There’s a dream. That would be nice. And maybe I’d actually have the chance to be happy in this life.

Ok, now back to reality.

Technical difficulties...

Hmmm... My last 2 blog entries have been partially-obscured for no apparent reason. I blame the Tories' new commitment to censorship...

I suppose I didn't really have too much new information to impart, but I'm excited at the prospect of our evolving project - and the many lessons we will all learn in the following months...

Be brave artists young and old, veteran and fledgling. We are about to make to some magic...

Bobman

Improvs...

Last night's planning meeting went very well. We are all very pleased with the evolution of our project, and we have reached a comfort zone where we can disagree with each other without malice. It's quite a luxury to be able to create over such an extended period of time, and our growth as artists mirrors the story (coming together piece by piece).

I foresee great piles of work for the future, but work we will collectively attack with poise, grace and fire. Our group ambition will get us there. We need only check our egos at the rehearsal door, give ourselves up to FAS' process and live somewhere that doesn't exist yet...

I look forward to continuing this journey with all you Sunday, my fellow artists: young and old, veteran and fledgling, but all, yes ALL, uniformly brave...

Bobman

Giselle

I am Giselle. I am sixteen years old and I skipped a grade. I live with my mom most of the time, but occasionally visit my dad because my brother lives with him. I want to do something great with my life; become a doctor or a teacher maybe. But I fnd it more and more difficult to find the motivation I need to begin realising that dream. I do really well in school, except my grades have slipped since I entered grade eleven. I'm really supposed to be in grade ten, but I did so well in grade nine, and took some online courses over the summer, so the school promoted me. I was so proud of myself until I stepped into my drama class. First period of the day, and I find myself face to face with my half-sister, Kimberley. I can't figure out what it was exactly that sparked our mutual hatred for one another, but ever since that time I have found no joy in being related to her. It wasn't so bad before; she was a year ahead of me and we stuck to our own circles and everything was okay. The only conflict really arose at home, but she'd usually go running to her dad's house and that would give my blood a chance to stop boiling. Unfortunately, now I'm stuck in class with her, so contact is unavoidable. I love the arts; particularly drama, but that love really is fading now. I'm so concerned with defening myself against Kimberley and her little posse that I can't concentrate on my work. I'm not a fighter, but I won't be walked all over, either. I think people underestimate me because I present myself as a mild-mannered bookworm, but there's more to me than that. I'm a thinker. I'd much rather hurt someone with words than with fists, and I'm smart enough to be able to hurt people without getting caught. I think that may be why Kimberley resents me. She's so caught up in being the center of attention, and the one everyone looks up to, that she knows nothing other than violence. I could have easily turned out that way, but I made a choice early on to not count myself out of a race before I'd even signed up. I don't give up. My sister does. I have a secret, but I'm still trying to figure it all out in my head, so it's still a secret form myself as much as it is from anyone else. I get along with Raef, but I don't like him that much. He never smiles. I don't think he knows how, and I personally don't believe in walking around with a rain cloud over my head all the time. Life's too short to spend it in misery. But I do know where he's coming from. He's younger than everyone in the class, and he can't handle Kimberley and the crew as well as me, because it's unfamiliar to him. I just wish he'd lighten up a bit. Find some humour in the situation. But I'm glad to have him, jsut the same. At least we can share the role of punching bag.

WHO I'AM

I been labeled, I been talked about and I been hated. Most of all I been alone and left to survive, Hi my name is Martina I'm 16 and I'm an Confused Teen. I ain't your average girl, I do things that others find wrong and corrupt. Maybe if you lived my life for one day you would understand. My parents got divorced when I was real young, after my dad left my mom lost the hope of living on her own and left me to some foster parents. Later on they grew tired of me so now I'm living in a TeenHomeShelter. I haven't heard from My mom since or my dad. Who know's where that fool is. I have a brother his name is Jay he's 20 I don't know who he is, I wonder is sometimes he feels guilty for not being there for me and helping me out or taking me in when I had no one else. I guess guilt can eat you inside. I'm not gonna lie or say I'm a good girl. I know I'm not, and my peers seem to see that to. Drugs have been my escape towards life and the pain I suffered, it takes me away from my problems. Money hasn't been an issue since sometimes I do sell my body because I need the money to survive the next day. So school is pretty much my **Money-Maker** and where I' am labeled and seen as the school SLUT. I got my 2 girls that I can call Family something I don't have. Kimberly and Shay la, honestly I don't know where I would be if I didn't have them. I know I wouldn't be alive, Their my escape. They get me and I get them. We go through shit together that no one else understands and would judge use. I don't know what the meaning of family is but it's( people that will never judge you,there for you no matter what situation with true unconditional love and that support you) then I'm proud to call them My family. This is me an Angry Teen

You either get me or you Don't

Hero's Trial

So apparently, crime rates (firearms) are down in Toronto, as well as Canada. Stabbings are more prevalent. Now the funny thing about that is when I heard it on the tv news, the reporter made it sound like it was such a good thing and it got me thinking: THIS IS "GOOD" NEWS?

It's beginning to look like we live in a real world Gotham City waiting for it's hero to emerge and bring salvation for its future. This is how I feel; almost as if we have to turn towards fiction for hope of change and it's becoming ridiculous. We shouldn't have to say to ourselves "if only superheros were real." I personally find myself thinking that all the time. It's come down to an endless backslide, almost as if it will NEVER end.

No matter what. there will always be a misled child that starts packing heat because no one is around to tell him otherwise. And it will continue to stay that way because before the people band together, they sit on their couches and stare at the news with wonder and amazement talking about ". . .someone needs to do something." Why not you? We blame music, movies and television before we take a look around and realize that people are sitting on their porches, balconies and doorsteps watching their community wither away, instead of making movements. No one man, woman or child can accomplish change all by themselves. United we stand, divided we fall.

School Violence: It's No Longer New

School violence: The shocking thing is we're not shocked anymore.

Rob Roberts from The National Post wrote an article on school violence and how it's no longer as shocking as it was before:

"Another day, another school lockdown. When I began in this business two decades ago, no one had ever heard of lockdowns. Now it is part of the language for teenagers who practise lockdowns as I once practised fire drills. Today, there was a stabbing outside Albert Campbell Collegiate Institute, which led to the lockdown at the Scarborough high school. There was a time we would interrupt regular programming and broadcast live on the air, our news chopper flying above, the satellite truck on scene, but not anymore. Such incidents have become so commonplace we don’t always report them. In our afternoon editorial meeting at Global, where we decide the line-up of our nightly "News Hour" broadcast, today’s lockdown was bumped down to a part of the broadcast usually reserved for features, after the health news, even after the weather forecast. As a city, we should not — cannot — become numb to a school lockdown. One student has already died on school property, and all the signs suggest it will happen again. Perhaps it's no coincidence we don't hear it called 'Toronto the good' anymore."

He was right. Why is it that now when a crisis breaks out, a school locks down, or someone gets killed, it's all old news, not even worthy for the front page? This just goes to show what Toronto is coming to. The once peaceful city is now slowly being consumed by all this evil and not enough people are getting involved. How many more have to die for us to be shocked once again?

For me it’s a scary thought going into high school in a few weeks. The basic worries of grade school, such as whose turn is it on the climbers, have upgraded to being stabbed or shot or robbed coming home from school. I bet quite a few kids my age going into high school have the same feeling of anxiety about what could happen. Hopefully by the time I get to school my fear will have died down but for now, I don’t see my nerves settling any time soon.