http://beyondtheodds.org/ en-GB no Beyond the Odds Beyond The Odds Josh Landicho of Youth Speaks performed and co-created the poem "Tu Tienes Sida" with JoJo Napoles. The poem reflects the true and intimate reflections of JoJo, a youth participant from Beyond the Odds. The poem performed was created in collaboration with Youth Speaks and Beyond the Odds.   Tu Tienes Sida Tu tienes sida. Cold was how he told me. Heartless and unholy. Neither before nor after have I ever cried as hard as I did the day I found out. I'm sure my tears and cries drowned out any kind of laughter that might have filled the hospital rooms next door. I knew life was a journey and all I ever wanted to do was explore. Physical travel was not necessary to navigate through my grid. See as a kid I don’t remember her showing any signs of mental illness. To this day she falls into an isolated reality shared by other paranoid schizophrenics. But still, she is my mother. From the time of my birth being raised running around as a child. To the time she moved us to a new apartment in Miami. To that dreadful day death walked into my hospital room and told me I was leaving with it. She put her finger to her lips as if to say to him “not like this”. Yet without mercy he said it... “Tu Tienes Sida”. Sida, that word carried so much stigma. Associated with those who lived promiscuous lifestyles was now stuck to me like stereotypes labeled on individuals they do not understand. I know who I am. I am the soldier who drops his sword to cry for just a while. Deep inside this cold armor lays a warrior with the heart of a child. With the love of a child. With the effervescence of a child. With the passion for life only children exhibit before they learn of disappointment, trauma, and heartbreak. At La Carreta is where we met. He was a lot older but showed interest in my chaotic life. My manager, my lover, my sense of stability in a life seemingly not my own. Spinning out of control. Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome brought all of it to a complete stop. From then on I started to count and learned to stay counting. 5 years since my blood has been considered tainted. 4 pills religiously taken on a daily basis. 3 times Cupid’s arrow pierced my heart since I was a young boy. 2 seconds to know it’s not too late to care about what’s really important. And 1 life to live, to love, to continue fighting for. To continue striving for, to create more goals I continue flying toward. Now instead of worrying to keep a count of my t-cells, I keep a count of my blessings. Before leaving Cuba I remember my life as if nothing tragic has or ever will happen. And now all I need is time. Time to breathe. Time to live. Time to allow my body a chance to be forgiven by my own heart. And I’m sorry, but I also need space. Space to make right the sins I have committed for wanting to live a life of a young man who was looking for love. Written by Josh Landicho of Youth Speaks Beyond the Odds comes to you from Public Radio Makers Quest 2.0, an initiative of AIR, the Association of Independents in Radio, Incorporated. This project is made possible with funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.   Josh Landicho of Youth Speaks performed and co-created the poem "Tu Tienes Sida" with JoJo Napoles. The poem reflects the true and intimate reflections of JoJo, a youth participant from Beyond the Odds. The poem performed was created in collaboration with Youth Speaks and Beyond the Odds.   Tu Tienes Sida Tu tienes sida. Cold was how he told me. Heartless and unholy. Neither before nor after have I ever cried as hard as I did the day I found out. I'm sure my tears and cries drowned out any kind of laughter that might have filled the hospital rooms next door. I knew life was a journey and all I ever wanted to do was explore. Physical travel was not necessary to navigate through my grid. See as a kid I don’t remember her showing any signs of mental illness. To this day she falls into an isolated reality shared by other paranoid schizophrenics. But still, she is my mother. From the time of my birth being raised running around as a child. To the time she moved us to a new apartment in Miami. To that dreadful day death walked into my hospital room and told me I was leaving with it. She put her finger to her lips as if to say to him “not like this”. Yet without mercy he said it... “Tu Tienes Sida”. Sida, that word carried so much stigma. Associated with those who lived promiscuous lifestyles was now stuck to me like stereotypes labeled on individuals they do not understand. I know who I am. I am the soldier who drops his sword to cry for just a while. Deep inside this cold armor lays a warrior with the heart of a child. With the love of a child. With the effervescence of a child. With the passion for life only children exhibit before they learn of disappointment, trauma, and heartbreak. At La Carreta is where we met. He was a lot older but showed interest in my chaotic life. My manager, my lover, my sense of stability in a life seemingly not my own. Spinning out of control. Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome brought all of it to a complete stop. From then on I started to count and learned to stay counting. 5 years since my blood has been considered tainted. 4 pills religiously taken on a daily basis. 3 times Cupid’s arrow pierced my heart since I was a young boy. 2 seconds to know it’s not too late to care about what’s really important. And 1 life to live, to love, to continue fighting for. To continue striving for, to create more goals I continue flying toward. Now instead of worrying to keep a count of my t-cells, I keep a count of my blessings. Before leaving Cuba I remember my life as if nothing tragic has or ever will happen. And now all I need is time. Time to breathe. Time to live. Time to allow my body a chance to be forgiven by my own heart. And I’m sorry, but I also need space. Space to make right the sins I have committed for wanting to live a life of a young man who was looking for love. Written by Josh Landicho of Youth Speaks Beyond the Odds comes to you from Public Radio Makers Quest 2.0, an initiative of AIR, the Association of Independents in Radio, Incorporated. This project is made possible with funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.   http://beyondtheodds.org/components/com_podcast/media/beyondtheodds_2009-07-30T10_59_50-07_00.mp3 Mon, 10 Aug 2009 10:56:48 -0500 2:35 Beyond the Odds Beyond The Odds Jacqulyn Whang of Youth Speaks performed and co-created the poem "Sunlight Found You” with Sergio Mendoza. The poem reflects the true and intimate reflections of Sergio, a youth participant from Beyond the Odds. The poem performed was created in collaboration with Youth Speaks and Beyond the Odds.   Sunlight Found You Sunlight split the blinds Window frames box out the world from you Reality versus a dream Mom cries at night. Reoccurring dreams Sleeping herself into your reality A baby in the hospital each wake Between her blinks Her baby boy Lying on tacky printed carpet. Cramp hotel room Cold sweat dripping down face vices and immortality Orange thongs and Calvin Klein bikini. Outside a freeway collapses April  F$#@ Sunlight through the smoke Emeryville is no place for Calvin Klein bikini and blue thongs Close the door Store the shame The stench of chaos The stench of stale life standing in a room Separated from the outside part by Lover and family dual reality split between the walls of the hotel room and outside double life catches up and falls with the highway falls into chromosomes forever stigmatized Sida burning bridges you sit alone in hotel room waiting in underwear for a lovers revival waiting for the smokes to get you bridges outside are falling knocking into the pavement gravity takes down the chunks of cement time takes down momentum maybe it was the HIV living in lover or maybe it was the awakening purging down the mirror so sick wit repulsion. Stripping Sergio Medication cocktails on a daily Sergio you are a beauty every morning The sunlight found you in Emeryville In the dark corners Lying on shaggy patterned carpets Sunlight found u Through the dense smoke Through Meth Through false lovers Through secrets of 5 am shift The sunlight Made its way To hit your flesh raw at this angle only the angels can tell of what you choose to hold The freeway collapsed to get your attention All of the bay felt the secrets stashed between the folds of your chest. The pill drips slowly down throat Swallow shame Swallow Sergio Down and You smile Stashing HIV positive resin Behind each teeth Your secrets find place On the surface of your taste buds Anticipating release smile For mom Each pill Daily dose of awakening Of what you are holding.. The burden Of pasts gets dark Behind bars In dark prison cells Psyche Shocked in numb waves Of pink pills And cold sweats Sergio. Tests scores and statistics Are not enough to shadow past the sun that fell through the blinds In Emeryville the hotel room may have been still but inside. Written by Jacqulyn Whang of Youth Speaks Beyond the Odds comes to you from Public Radio Makers Quest 2.0, an initiative of AIR, the Association of Independents in Radio, Incorporated. This project is made possible with funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. Jacqulyn Whang of Youth Speaks performed and co-created the poem "Sunlight Found You” with Sergio Mendoza. The poem reflects the true and intimate reflections of Sergio, a youth participant from Beyond the Odds. The poem performed was created in collaboration with Youth Speaks and Beyond the Odds.   Sunlight Found You Sunlight split the blinds Window frames box out the world from you Reality versus a dream Mom cries at night. Reoccurring dreams Sleeping herself into your reality A baby in the hospital each wake Between her blinks Her baby boy Lying on tacky printed carpet. Cramp hotel room Cold sweat dripping down face vices and immortality Orange thongs and Calvin Klein bikini. Outside a freeway collapses April  F$#@ Sunlight through the smoke Emeryville is no place for Calvin Klein bikini and blue thongs Close the door Store the shame The stench of chaos The stench of stale life standing in a room Separated from the outside part by Lover and family dual reality split between the walls of the hotel room and outside double life catches up and falls with the highway falls into chromosomes forever stigmatized Sida burning bridges you sit alone in hotel room waiting in underwear for a lovers revival waiting for the smokes to get you bridges outside are falling knocking into the pavement gravity takes down the chunks of cement time takes down momentum maybe it was the HIV living in lover or maybe it was the awakening purging down the mirror so sick wit repulsion. Stripping Sergio Medication cocktails on a daily Sergio you are a beauty every morning The sunlight found you in Emeryville In the dark corners Lying on shaggy patterned carpets Sunlight found u Through the dense smoke Through Meth Through false lovers Through secrets of 5 am shift The sunlight Made its way To hit your flesh raw at this angle only the angels can tell of what you choose to hold The freeway collapsed to get your attention All of the bay felt the secrets stashed between the folds of your chest. The pill drips slowly down throat Swallow shame Swallow Sergio Down and You smile Stashing HIV positive resin Behind each teeth Your secrets find place On the surface of your taste buds Anticipating release smile For mom Each pill Daily dose of awakening Of what you are holding.. The burden Of pasts gets dark Behind bars In dark prison cells Psyche Shocked in numb waves Of pink pills And cold sweats Sergio. Tests scores and statistics Are not enough to shadow past the sun that fell through the blinds In Emeryville the hotel room may have been still but inside. Written by Jacqulyn Whang of Youth Speaks Beyond the Odds comes to you from Public Radio Makers Quest 2.0, an initiative of AIR, the Association of Independents in Radio, Incorporated. This project is made possible with funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. http://beyondtheodds.org/components/com_podcast/media/beyondtheodds_2009-07-30T11_14_42-07_00.mp3 Mon, 10 Aug 2009 10:55:19 -0500 2:47 Beyond the Odds Beyond The Odds Jari Bradley of Youth Speaks performed and co-created the poem "A Raven and Wolf" with B-Lady. The poem reflects the true and intimate reflections of B-Lady, a youth participant from Beyond the Odds. The poem performed was created in collaboration with Youth Speaks and Beyond the Odds.   A Raven and Wolf a wolf’s grin slick like the night air on the wings of a raven perched on a sidewalk sips of MGD go down smooth like conversation two creatures of the night shooting the breeze 6 o clock in the morning intoxication fur and feather brush numbly against one another there is no secret to what happens when one sleeps with dogs but who knew that lies manifested themselves thru the flees of the unsaid in the warmth of a drunken wolf’s bed a broken condom echoed the morning’s air like a single gunshot more than a mere tear in latex the rupture didn’t stop there a relationship that resulted in bull#$%@ and a miscarriage coupled with a raven’s growing suspicion of sudden illness a sickness unlike any bird flu unbeknownst to her the wolf was sick too too late to cry wolf shacked up in a hospital bed recovering from post surgery a growth developed under the side of her wing found the wolf in the next wing of the hospital a life threatening coincidence the wolf finally shared his secret December 2006, proved to be as cold as the chill of rain drops on the raven’s beak planned parenthood proved something the raven already knew a test result passed to her a hand disconnected from eyes it was incredibly hard for Kate to look a raven dead in her face besides the raven was sure of her fate anyway a fate she never asked for the wolf never told her his status because he claimed it was something she never questioned he more accurately described as a sheep in wolf’s clothing preying on her ignorance little was this wolf aware of a raven’s acute intelligence the way her tears would be transformed into defiance knowing that the diagnosis of H.I.V. doesn’t mean she has to settle for dying she lives with a hard fought understanding to ensure her children’s safe landing in charted territory she claws at the belief that some carry about H.I.V. and a limited existence and expands that narrow view she lives with every intent on seeing the next day. Written by Jari Bradley of Youth Speaks Beyond the Odds comes to you from Public Radio Makers Quest 2.0, an initiative of the Association of Independents in Radio, Incorporated. The project is made possible with funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.   Jari Bradley of Youth Speaks performed and co-created the poem "A Raven and Wolf" with B-Lady. The poem reflects the true and intimate reflections of B-Lady, a youth participant from Beyond the Odds. The poem performed was created in collaboration with Youth Speaks and Beyond the Odds.   A Raven and Wolf a wolf’s grin slick like the night air on the wings of a raven perched on a sidewalk sips of MGD go down smooth like conversation two creatures of the night shooting the breeze 6 o clock in the morning intoxication fur and feather brush numbly against one another there is no secret to what happens when one sleeps with dogs but who knew that lies manifested themselves thru the flees of the unsaid in the warmth of a drunken wolf’s bed a broken condom echoed the morning’s air like a single gunshot more than a mere tear in latex the rupture didn’t stop there a relationship that resulted in bull#$%@ and a miscarriage coupled with a raven’s growing suspicion of sudden illness a sickness unlike any bird flu unbeknownst to her the wolf was sick too too late to cry wolf shacked up in a hospital bed recovering from post surgery a growth developed under the side of her wing found the wolf in the next wing of the hospital a life threatening coincidence the wolf finally shared his secret December 2006, proved to be as cold as the chill of rain drops on the raven’s beak planned parenthood proved something the raven already knew a test result passed to her a hand disconnected from eyes it was incredibly hard for Kate to look a raven dead in her face besides the raven was sure of her fate anyway a fate she never asked for the wolf never told her his status because he claimed it was something she never questioned he more accurately described as a sheep in wolf’s clothing preying on her ignorance little was this wolf aware of a raven’s acute intelligence the way her tears would be transformed into defiance knowing that the diagnosis of H.I.V. doesn’t mean she has to settle for dying she lives with a hard fought understanding to ensure her children’s safe landing in charted territory she claws at the belief that some carry about H.I.V. and a limited existence and expands that narrow view she lives with every intent on seeing the next day. Written by Jari Bradley of Youth Speaks Beyond the Odds comes to you from Public Radio Makers Quest 2.0, an initiative of the Association of Independents in Radio, Incorporated. The project is made possible with funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.   http://beyondtheodds.org/components/com_podcast/media/beyondtheodds_2009-07-30T11_33_26-07_00.mp3 Mon, 10 Aug 2009 10:52:20 -0500 1:49 Beyond the Odds Beyond The Odds Erika Céspedes Kent of Youth Speaks performed and co-created the poem "Maximus" with Mr. Maximus. The poem reflects the true and intimate reflections of Mr. Maximus, a youth participant from Beyond the Odds. The poem performed was created in collaboration with Youth Speaks and Beyond the Odds.   Maximus 1) The day I found out, Everything felt numb. Still. Frozen fingertips and window sills. It was the thin of my t-shirt and black pants. The cold of winter wind. It was one community clinic without an appointment. Heavy and unexpected, like the slow pace of Nurse Nadine's voice as she held a pen and asked questions. As the floors lied wet with Polish, walls tainted in the color of white, air weighed down by the smell of sanitizer. Everything around us was quiet. Caught in the silence of complete desperation. The day I found out was nothing more then twenty minutes and a test strip. A scarlet marking that read positive. One single faint red line. I knew it was coming but still couldn’t speak. Still couldn't find words or reason. Just felt lost in the quiet. In the numb. In that memory. 2) The only place in Delaware that felt like home, was with a woman whose blood line never matched mine. My God mom, Mom Dean, well into her 40s and hurting from disability- opened her home to me and five others. She wore a wig, spoke of faith, and made enough soul food to feed fifty. The day I found out, Mom Dean held me like the mother I should have had if she hadn’t disowned me.  Left me Homeless. Loveless.But Mom Dean held me Like the father I would have stood next to if he hadn't overdosed and ended his own life. She held me like I needed it, like she wanted too. She prayed. Wiped my eyes and said she knew a lot of people that had it. Said there was no reason to give up on myself. But That night I saw a knife, I saw it’s sharp and it’s luster. Imagined the way it's edge might cut. Imagined the way misery might become bliss. Like if I placed it to my stomach, like if I caught in my heart. Like nothing mattered. Nothing made sense, just one hand holding one cigarette, Just one Hand to mouth and mouth to hand. Just Inhaled heavy, and Tried to breathe in life after taking in the thought of death. 3) Everything was about leaving then. Leaving Delaware for San Francisco. Leaving to forget the year I spent in bed with a man who lied to me. Wanting to forget the innocent memories, the way the daytime light hit the brown of his eyes and the blue crystal of mine, the way I called it love because my body shivered like solitude when he wasn't home. Everything became about leaving then. It came down to me with no money and a one way greyhound bus ticket. It came down to the way he didn't say good bye the day I left because he was too busy trying to find god. It came down to four days on a bus and not feeling like I had any family or friends to confide in. It came down to love and trust wearing itself thin. It comes down to this, Five months of living with a diagnosis. This, life and living. This need to find a new beginning. This search and new found hope. This in between of stalled breathes and slow blinks. Daydreams and desires. Of wanting life to grasp me by the limbs, by the face, and by the heart. Of not wanting to let my life, my love, my body became grey and faceless. Everything has become this, me at 22 learning to not be ashamed of who I am, Learning not to apologize for everything I have lived. This is me remembering, Nurse Nadine, Mom Dean, the hotel room we shared that I called home. Life is just this. Unexpected and true.  Pain and love, a series of minutes and hours that make a life driven by day dreams Of family and friends Of passion and coincidence. Of meanings and questions. Life is just this. A past set in the past and a future that is endless. The day I found out became the day I learned that life is just this. Written by Erika Céspedes Kent of Youth Speaks Beyond the Odds comes to you from Public Radio Makers Quest 2.0, an initiative of AIR, the Association of Independents in Radio, Incorporated. This project is made possible with funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. Erika Céspedes Kent of Youth Speaks performed and co-created the poem "Maximus" with Mr. Maximus. The poem reflects the true and intimate reflections of Mr. Maximus, a youth participant from Beyond the Odds. The poem performed was created in collaboration with Youth Speaks and Beyond the Odds.   Maximus 1) The day I found out, Everything felt numb. Still. Frozen fingertips and window sills. It was the thin of my t-shirt and black pants. The cold of winter wind. It was one community clinic without an appointment. Heavy and unexpected, like the slow pace of Nurse Nadine's voice as she held a pen and asked questions. As the floors lied wet with Polish, walls tainted in the color of white, air weighed down by the smell of sanitizer. Everything around us was quiet. Caught in the silence of complete desperation. The day I found out was nothing more then twenty minutes and a test strip. A scarlet marking that read positive. One single faint red line. I knew it was coming but still couldn’t speak. Still couldn't find words or reason. Just felt lost in the quiet. In the numb. In that memory. 2) The only place in Delaware that felt like home, was with a woman whose blood line never matched mine. My God mom, Mom Dean, well into her 40s and hurting from disability- opened her home to me and five others. She wore a wig, spoke of faith, and made enough soul food to feed fifty. The day I found out, Mom Dean held me like the mother I should have had if she hadn’t disowned me.  Left me Homeless. Loveless.But Mom Dean held me Like the father I would have stood next to if he hadn't overdosed and ended his own life. She held me like I needed it, like she wanted too. She prayed. Wiped my eyes and said she knew a lot of people that had it. Said there was no reason to give up on myself. But That night I saw a knife, I saw it’s sharp and it’s luster. Imagined the way it's edge might cut. Imagined the way misery might become bliss. Like if I placed it to my stomach, like if I caught in my heart. Like nothing mattered. Nothing made sense, just one hand holding one cigarette, Just one Hand to mouth and mouth to hand. Just Inhaled heavy, and Tried to breathe in life after taking in the thought of death. 3) Everything was about leaving then. Leaving Delaware for San Francisco. Leaving to forget the year I spent in bed with a man who lied to me. Wanting to forget the innocent memories, the way the daytime light hit the brown of his eyes and the blue crystal of mine, the way I called it love because my body shivered like solitude when he wasn't home. Everything became about leaving then. It came down to me with no money and a one way greyhound bus ticket. It came down to the way he didn't say good bye the day I left because he was too busy trying to find god. It came down to four days on a bus and not feeling like I had any family or friends to confide in. It came down to love and trust wearing itself thin. It comes down to this, Five months of living with a diagnosis. This, life and living. This need to find a new beginning. This search and new found hope. This in between of stalled breathes and slow blinks. Daydreams and desires. Of wanting life to grasp me by the limbs, by the face, and by the heart. Of not wanting to let my life, my love, my body became grey and faceless. Everything has become this, me at 22 learning to not be ashamed of who I am, Learning not to apologize for everything I have lived. This is me remembering, Nurse Nadine, Mom Dean, the hotel room we shared that I called home. Life is just this. Unexpected and true.  Pain and love, a series of minutes and hours that make a life driven by day dreams Of family and friends Of passion and coincidence. Of meanings and questions. Life is just this. A past set in the past and a future that is endless. The day I found out became the day I learned that life is just this. Written by Erika Céspedes Kent of Youth Speaks Beyond the Odds comes to you from Public Radio Makers Quest 2.0, an initiative of AIR, the Association of Independents in Radio, Incorporated. This project is made possible with funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. http://beyondtheodds.org/components/com_podcast/media/beyondtheodds_2009-07-30T10_51_18-07_00.mp3 Mon, 10 Aug 2009 10:09:17 -0500 3:48