ADHD: A flow of consciousness, out of body action adventure story

ADHD: a flow of consciousness, out of body, action adventure story

To make a cup of coffee is a simple, easy and speedy process.  Intuitively, one removes the permanent filter from the basket, empties it in the sink and rinses it out.  Pour water into the tank behind the filter. Measure the amount of coffee in proportion to the quantity of water and to the taste of the consumer. Close the lid.  Press the botton, wait a few minutes and voila, the perfect cup of Java. Simple!

This morning while waking up the primitive part of my brain, that part dedicated to survival, fight or flight and navigating night time trips to the washroom, flashed the imperative for coffee across the neon sign that was my brain.  At these moments despite just getting out of bed I am capable, as if tingling with spider like senses, to perceive the world holistically, instantly and perfectly.  As if with psychic ability my neurons are like super information highways and my entire being of mind and soul is sending and receivng one karmic, cosmic message at the same time. “Must have coffee.”  

The distance betwen the edge of my bed and the coffee machine is exactly 19 steps.  I stand up and begin the journey.

Only, before I reach the bedroom door I pause to pick up the socks and underwear I left on the floor the night before and put them into the laundry basket by my closet, I then think about laundry for a moment, for that is all it takes, and it seems that the basket is getting ominously full with dirty wash and being that it is Saturday I should probably do the wash and if I do the wash I should probably wash my bedding at the same time; so naturally I start to strip the bed and take the pillow cases off the pillows and stuff everything into the basket and it is then that I reason, it would only make sense to put the pajamas I am wearing at the time into the wash and be far more efficient in the process after all its all about time management; so without hesitation because time is of the essence I take them off, the pajamas that is, and then quickly realize the vulnerability of my nakedness and immediately go to the closet and get a flannel shirt that makes me feel like a lumberjack when really I don’t know the first thing about how to handle a chainsaw, but put the red checkered shirt on any way as I think its all about image and comfort however, I soon realize of course that I need a sweat shirt and socks, and pants would be helpful too, but my organizational paradigm has placed those items in an adjacent room, in fact in the guest bedroom, and in another dresser; so I leave the laundry basket and the stripped down bed to get my socks and put them on while at the same instant thinking boy I could sure use a coffee, and so at that moment,  for sometimes  doesn’t it just seem that life is all in the moment and what is more gratifying than to start the day with coffee; so I head to the kitchen now partially dressed, but as I leave the guest room I again see the job I had started with the laundry and think I should finish what I started which actually was to make coffee, but I have by this time temporarily lost sight of that goal in an effort to deal with this very large burden of laundry, but of course all part of my grand master plan, my God the basket was so full; so I got the basket and walked down the hall passing the second bedroom which is now really a computer room/art studio and I saw that I had left out some dirty dishes from the night before because it was here that I watch TV on the large definition I Mac screen (not I Max) instead of the TV in the living room that does not have nearly such a good resolution; so I set the laundry down by the computer and gathered up the dishes which I placed on a tray that I use as my TV table and carried the dishes out to the sink which is right next to the coffee machine and my God does a coffee sound good right about now; so I ignore the dishes for a while and clear the sink so I can go about cleaning the filter from the last time I made coffee which was the day before and as I bang the filter down over the drain the coffee comes out and I turn on the faucet to clean the filter and it is then that the snooze alarm goes off on my Blackberry convienently located on the night stand beside my bed  a mere 19 steps from the coffee machine; I head in that direction in order to reset the alarm clock function, but at the same time I notice that the red light is flashing on the top of my cell indicating that a mesaage has come in and I just have to marvel at the technology of how such a tiny but well crafted piece of electronics can nab a signal from space and connect me to the rest of the world my God it was a miracle; so I flick the pad with my thumb to the proper icon enablying me to see that there wasn’t just one message but three and while being conscience of good time management skills I thought that I would read all of my messages over a cup of hot coffee because I find that the first cup of the day is always the best and I look forward to that moment; so I took the 19 steps back to the coffee machine to finish making the coffee, however, on my way there I walked by the second bedroom and saw a laundry basket sitting on the floor, how on earth did that get there I wondered, so realizing but ever cognisant of the fact that tidyness is next to godliness I took a quick detour picked up the laundry basket and started for the laundry room which is really the cavernous dark unfinished basement, but as I left the bedroom I glanced across to the washroom and thought it would be wise to throw the towels into the wash as well, so once I gathered those I walked into the kitchen and saw that someone had started making coffee but never finished the process; so I set the wash basket down on the kitchen floor and took the coffee filter out of the sink and placed it into the basket in the coffee machine where it belonged, as I reached for the can of coffee which I always keep close at hand for convenience  I quickly realized that it was  almost empty which caused me to walk over to the cupboard on the other side of the kitchen where I have 17 cans of Illy coffee in readyness for such an occasion which by the way we got at a great price from Cosco, and I am aware that some people are of the school of thought that purchasing in such large quantities does not really save money, rather it promotes over consumption and waste, but how silly I thought you can never have too much coffee; so I picked up a can and as I walked back to the coffee machine I rather abruptly pulled the tab that releases the pressurized seal on the can of illy coffee and with a powerful implosion of air coffee was forced out of the can over my hands and onto the basket of laundry that I noticed with some degree of irritation  someone had left in the middle of the kitchen floor, that is just too dangerous; so I placed the can of coffee down next to the coffee machine picked up the laundry basket and quickly took it downstairs to the washing machine where I used one of the dirty towels to wash the coffee of my hands from the imploded Illy can while thinking what a busy morning it had been so far and I could sure use a cup of coffee right about now, but I am focussed on the task at hand and do not like gettting distracted, a quality I admire in myself for you see I had just finished reading the book Blink by Malcolm Gladwell, who is from Elmira which by the way is very close to my home town of Waterloo and he writes about the power of thinking without thinking  and that is precisely the methodology I use when sorting the wash and through the intrinsic process of thin slicing, a term from the book, my many years of domestic experience kicked in and in moments I am quite remarkably able to sort all the darks, semi darks and grey matter into one collosal pile and everything else into another. It is a unique binary organizational model that works for me, although admitately my wife is somewhat dubious about its application because as an artist she is able to subdivide a small pile of dirty laundry into 17 distinct colour groups much like paint chips in a hardware store, however, I have learned that good decision making  has less to do with how much information we pocess than our ability to focus on a few particular details and if that does not speak to my strong suit I don’t know what does and so with my laundry sorted and ready to go I then set the dials on the Maytag, as a got an image in my mind of the underemployed Maytag repairman from advertisements I had seen in the 80’s, I chuckled at my private joke and selected the extra rinse, set the water temperature and the like and measured quickly and accurately the exact amount of liquid soap being certain to put it in while the water was running allowing it to mix well before putting the clothing in, next I put the lid down and before I headed back up the stairs I quickly threw an anti static sheet into the drier as a handy time saving gesture in anticipation of the completed wash cycle, I find little details like that make a difference when it comes to time management; when I got to the base of the stairs I saw 12 containers of bottled water, which I hate to admit that I bought from Walmart, with 10 L in each container I thought that since I was downstairs anyway I should bring one up because I know I was running low on water upstairs and besides if I was about to make coffee I could use some more water because the tap water is full of toxins and heavy metals from the petroleum industry upstream from us, but not to lose focus on my story that is a whole other topic let me tell you; but because the water container was heavy I got to the top of the stairs and set it on the floor because I couldn’t set the water on the counter where it belongs because someone had set a tray of dirty dishes there, damn it if housework is never done you just finish one job and there’s always another one waiting; so I ran water in the sink, squeezed some liquid soap into the water and noticed a fine layer of coffee over the floor and part of the counter, where the hell did that come from I said out loud in my frustration, so naturally being somewhat of a neat freak I took a cloth to clean up the coffee mess; once done I put the tray of dirty dishes into the sink and started washing the dishes and as I washed I glanced over at the coffee machine sitting there with a basket of coffee but no water in the tank; so I paused from the dish washing and got the 10 L container of water I had just brought up from the basement and placed it on the counter, I took the lid off, but the water poured out way too slowly; so I got a sharp knife from the drawer and cut some holes in the top of the water container so the water would pour out faster, something about a vacuum or air block in the plastic container, I then took the coffee carafe from the coffee machine and filled it up with water and began to pour it into the tank; but as I poured I noticed, as if for the first time that this particular coffee machine, Hamilton Beach, had a timer that would  automatically turn the machine on at a predetermined and preset time, coffee would be steaming hot and waiting when I got up, but really wouldn’t that just take the joy out of the whole process of making and savouring that first sacred cup of coffee in the morning, what a silly and redundant invention I thought.

Finally, I sat down with my cup of coffee realizing for some mysterious reason I was running a bit late that morning. As I relaxed with my coffee and read some of my text messages from earlier I thought that after I finished with the laundry and made the bed, I could do a quick once over of reorganizing and cleaning out the garage...shouldn’t take too long.

Public Education/residential schools/Northern Alberta

An Educational Story

Fort Chipewyan is a predominatly native community of Cree, Dene and Metis with a population of about 1000 on two reserves on either side of a municipal town site.  My school Athabasca Delta Community School is located in the town site and students bus in from the neighbouring reserves.  The school itself was built to have a trading fort frontier feel to it.  It works.

Native culture here, and likely in most native communities, values the importance of the family.  The role of the elders as a source of knowledge and wisdom is recognized and almost revered in native culture.  However, my truck driver/social worker pointed out that although these values are evident there is a significant disconnect between what is valued and what is practiced.  I was soon to learn that many families with links to residential schools are severely dysfunctional and native traditions were rapidly eroding.

Despite the fact that children are valued they are given very loose structure in their lives and little discipline. This type of scenerio often translates into students who do not know how to behave in a classroom and don’t want to be in school.  Many students rebel against the authority of the teachers.  They are openly and frequently defiant.  Students here, as in the general population, spend a disproportionate amount of time with video games.  I have grade one students telling me about the joys of playing “Grand Theft Auto.” 

I have grown to admire the public school teachers here and how they survive the ordeals of the every day classroom, their’s is not an easy job.  Sadly, some locals still regard teachers as outsiders and criticize them for coming to the community just for the money. Yet, in some cases they do not want native teachers in their classrooms as they feel they are not a qualified or as well trained. I heard one case of an Inuit teacher teaching in a Cree community causing one mother to complain.  After several months, and discovering that the Inuit teacher was quite capable, this mother had the good sense to apologize to the principal.  

I serve as the Special Education Coordinator at the only school in Fort Chipewyan and I work with most of the coded students, that is those who have been tested for learning disabilities and behavioural issues.  Of the approximately 230 students in the school I work with about forty on a regular basis. As I began working with my students it became very clear that there was very little literacy in their home life in the sense that they were usually not read to nor did they read for recreation.  They were after all ”Special Ed” students. But perhaps more significant is the fact that native culture is based on oral traditions and until Europeans gave the Cree a written language there were no written literacy skills. 

Many of my students are several grade levels behind in their literacy and numeracy skills.  I have high school students who can barely read and grade 3 students who do not know the alphabet or the sounds the letters make.  I work with a grade five student who wishes to improve his reading skills only to the point of being able to successfully take his driver’s test.  Many of these students are about to give up or already have.  Their anger and frustration quickly translates into acting out behaviour and severe discipline issues.

When a typical, if there is such a thing, middle class southern suburban child gets to school he has been read to, talked to and exposed to a wide range of vocabulary words and ideas thousands or tens of thousands of times before entering the classroom.  My impression here, in Chip, is that my Cree and Dene students arrive in school not having the advantage of the English spoken word, story times and chances at adequate vocabulary development. For many, English is a second language. My students begin the literacy race long after the green flag has gone down and too many of them never see the checkered flag.  This year our graduation class will be composed of four students.  The drop out rate is disturbing.

The Fraser Institute rates school in Western Canada based on very narrow perameters of performance and although I don’t accept their findings as difinitive, they do raise red flags.  My school is rated dead last in all of Alberta and many of the other low placed schools are also part of the Northland School Division.  

The sad thing about many of our students at all ages, but especially in the junior high grades is that they have given up on themselves. They have an unfortunate reverse or negative pride and seem to revere a lack of progress. It is just the opposite of self esteem expressed through a near total lack of achievement. Our school has no teams, or mottos and very little school spirit.

As an example, in the main foyer of our school is a fireplace with a circular sitting area.  Mid-morning, one school day while walking through I saw a senior student sleeping there.  To a guest at the school, or anybody else, the first thing they would see would be a student asleep on a bench.  I touched the student’s shoulder, big mistake, and asked him to sit up.  First I got the “don’t touch me I know my rights argument now prevalent in most schools everywhere, but after that episode I was told in strong indignant terms that he could sleep where he wanted, after all he said, “this is Chip not some southern school.”  Who was I to argue. I had already been told by some parents, whose children I had disciplined, that I don’t know the community or their kids.  Maybe they are right.

Students from “Chip” who have tried the public school system elsewhere, mainly in Fort McMurray and Edmonton, soon find themselves back at Athabasca Delta Community School because it is here that they can fail in their comfort zone.  They seem proud of their lethergy.  They take “pride” in their dysfunction.

Sometimes as teachers we get the feeling that we have been forgotten in our northern isolation. It is difficult and costly to get goods and services from the South as this is a fly in community with a winter road open for three months of the year. As a result of high transportation costs and a lack of care or resources the school and teacherages are very poorly maintained. 

Just this year alone our school has been closed due to furnace and boiler failures which resulted in frozen and burst pipes, which in turn caused massive flooding destroying my clasroom and everything in it as well as the ECS and grade one classrooms on the floor directly below my room.  Since the burst pipe had 7 hours of uninterupted flow time the water also took out the staffroom, hallways, the office and the library.  The sewers backed up and over flowed into the main floor washrooms.  The school was closed for several days only to be closed again due to, first a lack of propane pressure and no heat followed by too much propane pressure and a school overwhelmed with gas. Each event closed the school for several days.  Last year the school was closed for two months because of mold problems.  We don’t have to hope for snow days we just wait for something to break down and it always does.

I entered and won a writing contest this year promoting the merits of public education sponsored by the Alberta Teachers Association.  The contest required contestants to describe what it is that is special or unique about their school.  The contest operated under the theme of “My Alberta School.”  Naturally, I did not focus on test scores.  I entitled my piece “Continuous Small Miracles” and wrote about the small, everyday positive occurences that happpend in my school. 

My examples dealt with small actions and kindnesses taking place more on a one to one nature between students and teachers. After the contest I eventually concluded that under present circumstances the climate at our school and in this community will not significantly change, nor will our provincial test results, but there will be a multitude of successes on an individual basis based on those teachers and students who despite the odds rise above.  These people are special and they are the true success stories, and on that level my school is a great success and those successes speak to the strengh of the individual, not the system.

Having taught for 35 years and much of that with special needs students I have found nothing surprising in Fort Chipewyan in terms of what I read in the pysch/ed reports or through my daily work with students.  There is a cross section of many types of issues, problems and learning disabilities including: aspergers, oppositional defiance, ADHD, OCD, CD and all the other initials we use to identify and label students.  The difference here is that I have never seen such a high concentration of educational issues in such a small student population before.

Why is this?  I’m sure Fort Chipewyan is in no way unique from most other native communities in Alberta, or elsewhere in Canada.  I was still wondering about the big disconnect between values and reality as told to me by my truck driving social worker. The community of “Chip” values children, and education yet has a school with an extremely high drop out rate, and is the lowest rated school in the province.

Residential schools were a systematic and sanctioned way of robbing the natives of their culture and whatever vistage of heritage they might have left after they were cheated of land and other rights.  I’m no expert in this, but I know enough that this was a period of shame in our history and when the residential school here closed it wasn’t long before it was also demolished.

I was told one reason for the disconnect with values had to do with residential schools.  

Because of the harsh treatment experienced by many at, Holy Angels Indian Residential School (1902-1974), the Chip residential school and others like it, is where many natives lost their connection to families and family values. 

The government’s goal was to break down the culture and the family structure, thereby developing a group of people who were institutionalized; then when one throws alcohol into the mix with the dislocation of many communities from their lands that they knew, to poorer lands it eventually creates an entrenched cycle of poverty. Some of the former students of Holy Angels, now adults and parents, attend support groups today in order to deal with their horrible experiences as children while at the residential school.

After all of the social trauma inflicted on native populations “we” blamed natives for being useless. Due to the reserve system and residential schools  linked with a combination of government and church policies, it resulted in creating a true sense of learned helplessness with little sense of connection to anything, no sense of family, no sense of trust in others, or in themselves, and no sense of trust in authority. In fact the very concept of family was destroyed, but I guess that was the point of the residential school. 

Is it no wonder that because of abuse and extreme methods of discipline students who left those schools became parents who didn’t know how to parent and were reluctant to discipline.  Soon a generation developed robbed and devoid of heritage and tradition and seemingly helpless to rectify the situation. The evil of residential schools created more than one monster.  The legacy plays on in families and schools today here in “Chip”.

The reality is that much of the parenting in native homes is done by members of the extended family and more often than not by the grandparents.  In traditional native culture there was good reason for the grandparents to handle child rearing because parents would be “out on the land” making a living and surviving.  In modern society some parents seem to rely too heavily on tradition with the continued expectation that grandparents raise the children.  As contemporary society has developed the traditional roles have not changed and possibly family life has suffered in some ways because parents excused themselves from their parenting role. 

Presently, at a point in our school’s development and history when more resources are needed, along with smaller class sizes in order to better deal with the many obvious issues, educational spending is being reduced. It was only last year that the entire Northland School Board was dismissed by the Minister of Education and an acting superintendent was appointed to turn the jurisdiction around.  An extensive study was done which highlighted numerous weaknesses within the system as a whole.  Now with the most recent provincial budget, cuts have been made and again Northland and other needy jurisdictions, especially rural ones, will go without, while still being expected to do more with less.

I begin to wonder if public education is up to the task and whether or not it can succeed against such odds in isolated northern communities, like Fort Chipewyan and other rural areas in Alberta. Any one approaching my school might be quite surprised to read at least four large signs identifying several oil companies for their gifts to the school and the community. Similar signs appear in the enterior of the school. Most everything we have in our school, that is of value, from the playground equipment to the computer lab to the community resource centre has been paid for through the generosity of oil companies.  

As a teacher I value the contributions made by oil companies for they have made my job easier and improved education and the lives of our students, but is this what public education is coming to in Alberta? Public education is a system which is provincially mandated, board directed and tax supported.  In Alberta that means it is an inclusive educational system which according to the Alberta Teachers’ Association’s definition provides, “...opportunity to develop ingenuity, creativity, critical thinking skills and a strong sense of citizenship.”

It seems there is a continous and growing gap between the needs of an over taxed school system and the ability of a government to meet the educational needs in Fort Chipewyan.  In these cases gifts and contributions from oil companies fill that gap and signage appears advertising the donations.  Although my school is the beneficiary of oil company profits it also demonstrates the failure of public education to provide the opportunities to promote, “ingenuity, creativity, critical thinking skills and a strong sense of citizenship.” In the end the solutions become political and not pedigogical. I think the students in Fort Chipewyan deserve better. 

Fort Chipewyan is a community with an unfortunate history, one in which the residential school system tragically failed them.  For many, living in a reserve system with a residential school deprived them of their pride, heritage, traditions and family values.   What I see today is a people struggling for an indentity lost somewhere between surviving from the land and free spirited kids playing video games at home during school hours, serviced by a public school system unable to meet their needs.

 I will end with one last image.  While working with Statisitcs Canada 20 years ago I flew up the Athabasca River somewhere between Fort McMurray and Fort Chipewyan. We made a smooth landing beside a Cree summer fishing camp.  My job was to complete a census report.  I saw the elders fishing and drying their catch on racks in the traditional way.  A short distance away a Honda generator hummed and provided the electricity for the children inside the crude log cabin allowing them to play video games at midday.  I thought then as I do now, what is their future?

Fort Chipewyan, Alberta...

Survival

The key is picking the right spot

the firm grip without missing a step

by understanding the lay of the land 

avoid twisting an ankle

walking the precambrian rock

covered in soft moss

a century deep, 

on a sunny day facing the sun

I close my eyes.

I hear nothing

then shots in the distance.

The Cree were hunting chickens.

I absorb the sun gratefully and slowly

open my eyes to vast vistas of clouds

through spindly Spruce and Birch

a rabbit stares me down,

dashes for cover.

Leaving the path the raucous speaking

of ravens

they circle a dog, part sled part sheperd

eight to one the dog wearies guarding 

the dead carcus at his feet.  

The ravens smarter,

more determined will eat tonight.

The crunch of gravel under foot,

later I spoke to a native man

who told me about using birch bark

for kindling, keep

it in your car for the winter road

he told me.  It could save your life.

A Quicken Ode

Quicken is a computer program used for keeping track of home financing, but those who are OCD tend to live and breathe by it...

A Quicken Ode

Never ask of money spent

or

where the spender thinks it went.

Ever vigilant to save the receipt

never dealing in deceit

nobody was ever meant

to remember or invent

what he did with ever cent.

Quicken knows and can show

just how and where the money goes.

Hoodies

Hoodies




As a teacher, or a member of the general civilian population does your blood pressure ever rise when you see students in the hall, on the street, in the mall, at the corner store basically anywhere, wearing a hoodie? I know my blood pressure tends to soar and I don’t quite know why. I actually own a hoodie and wear it when I go camping and it keeps me warm and dry. I thought the impact of the nefarious hoodie must therefore rest with the wearer and the context in which it is being worn.

I even started asking students, who wore hoodies as to why they wore them. I think the most ridiculous answer had to do with functionality. “It has to do with warmth and protection. It keeps me dry when it rains.” I thought what a crock! We have all seen students in mid- winter, at minus 30 often wearing light jackets, no hats, no mitts with running shoes on their feet. Of what part of practicality are they thinking?

This past winter while waiting for the LRT at Southgate Mall in Edmonton, I saw a student wearing shorts, a T shirt and running shoes. I said this happened in winter. I couldn’t help myself and I approached him and politely asked him, “What the hell are you doing? Aren’t you cold?” He informed me that there was a fifty dollar bet at stake if he dressed for summer in the winter. I looked at him in disbelief, shook my head and wished him luck.

I don’t think functionality is actually a real factor when it comes to dress for young people as practicality and common sense are not necessarily even in the equation. So when a young person tells me they wear a hoodie because it is practical they must be referring to a much different definition of practical.

What is practical for a teenager? I consulted with my wife who is a cognitive therapist and tends to know this shit. She is good. I mean she had me figured out on our first date and she still married me. She pointed cases out to me in which patients who were schizophrenic would wear snowmobile clothing in the summer time because it tends to emotionally hold them together.

My wife then extrapolated her ideas to that of the teen age mind and indicated that the same thought process may hold true in that the hood of a hoodie offers seclusion. “It creates a cloistered affect and also serves to hold self together.” It is especially relevant and “practical” to those who lack individual confidence or self-worth. The hoodie offers the ultimate mobile cocooning effect and an escape from society. It provides an element of anonymity and protection and therefore serves as a mechanism for reducing stress and anxiety. And here I thought it was just some sort of ward robe malfunction.

I always had the sneaking suspicion that while wearing a baggy hoody it would only be a matter of time before some bright soul thought of the possibility of cutting a small hole in a pocket and running the wire for their earphones up the inside of the hoodie into the actual hood making it possible to not only be isolated and anonymous but also play and get lost in music at the same time. Just a thought.

To find the ultimate answers I had to turn to the source of all accumulated truth and knowledge in the western world, I googled Wikipedia and rediscovered that monks during the height of ignorance during the Middle Ages or Dark Ages also wore hoodies with their tunics and robes. Hip hop artists made hoodies into a fashion statement while at the same time promoting instant anonymity perfect for those week end nights of 711 shopping combined with criminal intent. Nothing says,” I shoplift therefore I am” like the ever popular hoodie, the perfect part of an ensemble to beat the surveillance cameras in malls and convenience stores.

The hoodie could also be a simple expression of attitude and mood that says in a subtle way with nuance implying that I am young and you are old. Perhaps young people like the hoodie so much because they just know how much it pisses older people off, its like giving the finger without raising one. Clever!

Along came the nineties and 6 Rocky movies in which the star character, Rocky Balboa, wears a hoodie during training. Remember that classic scene as he runs up the stairs to the cracked liberty bell? Of course to me that quite simply symbolized the isolation of the underdog in a modern day democracy deformed by greed, excessive consumerism and capitalism.

Surfers and skateboarders also promoted the hoodie look and it became mainstream when the likes of Giorgio Armani, Tommy Hilfiger and Ralph Lauren adopted the hoodie look in their fashion lines.

I think in a free and open society many who support the status quo fear the anonymity of the hoodie. In parts of Europe, particularly now France what says hoodie better than hijab and abayah.

Hoodies have come a long way since the Dark Ages when they were worn by monks who seldom bathed to the point where it became an expression of juvenile angst and now has entered the popular culture.  I don't know about you, but my attitude towards those who wear hoodies has totally made me rethink my feelings for, well you know, "Little Red Riding Hood(ie)."

I can’t honestly say that I automatically associate deviant behavior with those who wear hoodies. I just know that when I walk down a lonely alley way in a large metropolis on the wrong side of tracks on the wrong side of town in an ethnic area that is not my own and I see a group of hooded young people I will without hesitation cross to the other side of the street, but hey, that’s just me.

But seriously, I jest. I realize the superficial nature of my arguments and the shallowness of my persuasiveness concerning my thoughts on the hoodie, so let me tell you what I think of the Goth look…