2012 will forever be the year that changed my life. It was the most suffering I’ve ever experienced, which probably explains why it was the year that catalyzed so much growth. If you see a carefree individual who laughs and smiles more than he sniffles and frowns, it’s because of the trials, tribulations, and triumphs from the year the Mayans supposedly predicted the demise of all of us.
Before I was a teacher, my chosen identity was that of a rapper. I toured from the west coast to the midwest, my home region, and back. I put out albums, released music videos, played shows in dimly lit dive bars, and slept on the floors of college kids. It wasn’t glamorous at all, but it was a blast while I could handle it. In April of 2012, my partner in crime for these misadventures, Gavin Theory, died from a type of bone cancer called osteosarcoma. He was my best friend and the reason I moved to Portland, OR in the first place. Not only did I lose my rapping partner, but I lost one of the people to whom I was closest. Add that to the fact that our last normal conversation we had (before the drugs made him unrecognizable in appearance and personality) was a fight, and the guilt made the scenario even worse.
That summer, I was offered a job at Rowe Middle School, after a successful long term sub position that previous spring. I spent the whole summer trying to come to grips with who I was as a person and what I wanted out of life. Figuring my days as a superheroic underground rap star were over since Gavin’s passing, I accepted my very first position as a day-to-day classroom teacher. This was not only a moment that changed my life, but it inevitably saved my life.
After not having health insurance for many years, I went to the doctor with my new teacher health plan and salary and got a physical. While there, the doctor looked at a mole that had been concerning me for some time. He didn’t think much of it, but referred me to a dermatologist. I never would have even gone into the doctors for the mole had I not had insurance. 2 months later, after a surgery and some odd doctor’s appointments, I got a phone call on a Tuesday morning with my dermatologist informing me I had a malignant, melanoma tumor. I would have to have surgery to remove skin and lymph nodes to make sure that the cancer hadn’t spread to any other part of my body.
Fortunately for me, the story has a happier ending than the story of many people diagnosed with cancer. I had surgery (as well as complications from the surgery), and I only missed about 3 weeks of school. The melanoma was caught early so I was officially labeled a “cancer survivor”. My students that year were awesome and super supportive of me in my attempts to get healthy and my many mistakes as a first year teacher. I started making rap music again.
I learned two things from this experience. 1) I made it through something most people will never have to experience, and it didn’t break me. I wear the pain from that year like a personal, hidden badge. It reminds me of what I’ve overcome. 2) Worse things have happened to better people. There are plenty of amazing folks out there who have had terrible circumstances dealt their way in life. I was fortunate to have a year like 2012 and live to talk about it. So when you see a jovial, ostensibly stress free man, it’s a result of what I learned in a time that was anything but.
People of RMS 