By: William Gissentanna, 17 years old

When I was younger, the 4^th of July was a time to pop fire crackers. I remember sneaking off with my cousins during the family cook out to pop them in different places around the neighborhood. As I have gotten older and paid attention in school, my thoughts have drastically changed.

Being from VA, it was drilled in school that VA was the first colony of the present-known USA. I've learned for years that VA is rich with history. A couple of years ago, however, I had some mentors and participated in a slave walk that started to change my thinking. I learned that VA was not just the first colony of the US; it was also the place, in 1619, where the first Africans arrived in America. Not only that, it would later serve as the state that housed the capital of the Confederate States of America (Richmond).

For the first time, I noticed that history was presented in different ways- depending on the teacher and what he or she wanted you to leave with. When I applied this thinking to the forth of July, I began to question why African Americans celebrate it at all--slaves were not freed in 1776 when Americans gained their independence. When we celebrate the 4^th of July, are we celebrating our condition then?

As I share these thoughts with other people, I get a lot of slack. People question my logic, motives, and a host of other things. Sometimes people even ask me where I would rather live. After I say Canada, they question my commitment to this nation. But I am forced to question America's commitment to me.

I live in a neighborhood that's not so good. Many people think its just TV, but when you can't even sit on your own front porch in the evening because you fear there will be a shoot out, you live in a bad neighborhood. When police enforcement units take thirty minutes to respond to a call in your neighborhood, something is not normal. How long should it take for a dispatch to arrive when lives are in danger? Does this happen in all neighborhoods, irrespective of race or class? I doubt it.

The school I attend is not in that great of a neighborhood either, and the public school transportation is terrible. My city has cut down on the number of bus routes in an effort to decrease the number of fights that take place on the bus between the different rivals in the different neighborhoods. But this doesn't fix the problem. Additionally, last year, one of my teachers clearly explained why he couldn't teach us due to the lack of city-funded material needed for the subject. How am I supposed to be prepared to compete with someone for a corporate position went to a school with all the needed materials? Is this commitment? Am I anti-American because I view things differently? Am I the only one who feels this way? I wonder how the people who were stranded after Hurricane Katrina feel about America. I wonder how the people who lost their houses during this recession after the banks and other corporations were bailed out. Was America committed to them?

I don't know about you, but I will not be celebrating the 4^th of July until I believe that America is committed to all of her citizens. Committed or not committed, that is the question. I say no. What do you say?

By: David Mahan

Do you know why we have crisis hotlines? We have crisis hotlines because a lot of the teens running around their schools and neighborhoods acting grown have actually mis-defined maturity. They think in order to be mature you have to drink, or smoke, be promiscuous or be a thug. They are basically saying, without saying, that in order to be mature you have to make unhealthy choices. And when the inevitable consequences of those choices hit, the crisis hotline is there to help those misguided teens when they get in trouble and when they get scared.

Each year, right around homecoming, prom, and spring break, the phones at the crisis hotlines ring off the hook. Why? Think about it. Most people are running to buy lingerie, rent limousines, and reserve hotel rooms to celebrate what they consider a milestone: getting a date to a school dance or having a week off of school. Then, around 3:30am the same night the phones at the crisis hotlines start ringing off the hook.

            "Hello, this is Susie at pregnancy health center, how can I help you?"

            "I'm a little embarrassed to say this, but I think I might be pregnant and I don't know how it happened!"

Has anybody [ever] seen two naked people skipping down the street, accidentally bump into each other and get pregnant? How, then, can anyone say they don't know how it happened? The truth of the matter is nothing just happens. Many of these young teens who call the hotlines are not saying that they don't understand how it happens. Instead, they mean that they don't understand how their lifestyle choices over the past two years, two weeks or 2 months has lead them to a consequence that they said would never happen to them.

            As you discover more and more yourself, your world, and your God to improve yourself, I want to leave you with some good advice.

            1. Everything in life has a process. Nothing just happens.

            2. You cannot hate the consequence if you love the process that takes you there.

There are consequences to acting off of bad definitions. Sex, something with which many teens experiment, has consequences that include but are not limited to: becoming a teen parent (1 million each year), getting infected with an STD (9 thousand teens per day), having people calling you out of your name, losing a scholarships, breaking family relationships, developing low self-esteem, seeing a decline in grades--

As I travel around the country teaching youth about making healthy choices, I always say, you can't hate the consequence but love the process that takes you there. I encourage you to be committed to seriously think about the results (both good and bad) that may come from the processes you choose to engage in. And if you want good results, commit, above all else, to these 5 takeaways.

• Commit to a closer walk with Jesus.
• Commit to making healthy choices.
• Commit to loving yourself.
• Commit to serving Christ by serving others.
• Commit to choosing friends who support your commitments.

by: Reuben Gibson

Gun violence is a very serious matter in the lives and communities of many Americans. All over the country you will hear on the news about a shooting or about someone dying after being shot just about every day. The average number of people killed from gun violence is 83 daily. Five of those 83 people are children, and nine are 19-year-olds. These losses completely change the future that could have been.

One of those little boys could have grown up and became a firefighter who could have saved hundreds of lives. One of the little girls could have grown up to be the very first female president. But now those chances are all gone, all because of gun violence.

Just think about how it makes a mother feel when she finds out that her child didn't survive the travel to the hospital, or that she would end up outliving her child. It would break the mother's heart. Can you imagine the mother of the child that fires the gun? That would completely tear her apart. It would make her think that she was a bad parent, and she would burst into tears seeing her own flesh and blood taken away for life to sit in jail because of a stupid decision to join the crowd and shoot people.

How do you think that this would make the mother feel on Mother's Day? It's suppose to be the day that the children get to honor their mothers. If her child is dead or in prison because of gun violence, then there is nobody to appreciate her. It would leave a hole in her heart that could never be filled. As long as gun violence exists, there will be sorrow in the world.

We are the new generation. We can stop it once and for all. We would say, "I love you, Mom... I will never leave you," and "I promise I won't do anything to hurt you." Now all we have to do is live up to our promise and make the right choices.

One of those choices is not letting your child know there is a gun in the house if you have one when you become a parent. About 40% of Americans have a gun and children in the household. People buy guns for protection in their homes, but little kids may see it as some kind of toy, not really knowing its destructive properties. If they find it, they start getting curious about it. They will try to make it shoot and show it to friends. In the end, they end up accidentally firing it and either killing themselves or killing their friend. Either way, that is a loss of a life, and another mother who lost their child.

Some people may say things like "Nobody would be that dumb," or "I know what I'm doing." But things happen, and once they do, it can't be changed. When someone kills a child or adult or anyone, wouldn't their conscience bother them for the rest of their life about what they did? I mean, what if someone just shot and killed you? How would that affect your friends and family? I think someone who killed someone would be thinking about this for the rest of their life.

This is what my mother thinks about gun violence: "I think gun violence is a tool of destruction that preys on innocent victims in our communities. We lost a family member due to a random shooting inside of a nightclub. Due to black on black crimes, drive-by shootings, and accidental deaths, gun violence will continue to eliminate many young people who may have made a difference in someone else's life." This was a thought by an everyday mother. I'm sure that all mothers feel this way about gun violence, and this just gives another reason to bring it to an end.

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I am an American by birth and by culture. Having spent all my life in "the land of the free" where everyone fights to grab his or her own slice of the American pie, I was only concerned with what I thought and wanted. In my opinion, the individual mattered most. That is, until I traveled abroad. In Senegal, the community is more important than the individual, and their culture benefits in many ways from this idea. In the "individual vs. community" debate, almost everyone wins when the community wins. How did I come to this conclusion? Well, it was a relatively short journey.

The year after I graduated from college I decided to teach in Dakar, Senegal. My choice was influenced by personal interests in travel, the opportunity to learn a new language, and the availability of the program. In preparation for my year abroad, I had underestimated the subtlety of the cultural differences. Community, while it exists in America, has a stronger resonance in Senegalese culture, and the lesson we can derive from it as Christians is the importance of accountability.

            On my first day, I did not even get past the informal introductions without being confronted with how cultures varied. "Good morning, my name is Bamba Sy," one student in the classroom would begin. "Bambasy?" I would repeat as rapidly as the student had said it.  "My name is Oumar Cheikh," said a student in the hallway, and I'd echo, "Oumarcheikh?" with my American accent. After a few days, I realized that when teachers asked me my name in school, I'd commonly give a first-name-only response. But in Senegal that was not the custom. My students had been saying their first and last names so closely together that, as someone unfamiliar with the traditional importance of community, I could not hear the distinction. The first name is nothing without the last name in Senegal because the last name ties you to a larger family history. The community expects every individual to give reverence to the family ties that surround them. Thus, the students feel accountable to their family, and their behavior often reflects a desire not to shame their community.

For example, the most anxious I ever saw my seventh grade English class was on what seemed like an ordinary Monday. The group of usually reserved students might have been disturbed by a big test or the upcoming talent show, but that was not the case that day. As it happened, a teacher contacted their parents because they had performed poorly on a test, and that notice sent my students into a spiral. Palms sweating, fidgeting in their seats, they waited to be called out of the room one by one as their parents arrived. My seventh graders were not alone in this reaction. Typically students who were sent to the administration would return from the office with a down-turned, remorseful expression after only the threat of family involvement. Both students and teachers benefited from a calmer learning environment than one sees in many American schools. Iit was all because of the children's sense of accountability to their community.

            My experience in Senegal taught me the value of seeing myself as more than an individual. My actions reflect my family and the values that they have instilled in me. I take that to heart as a Christian because when the world sees me, it should be more than just Melanie. They should see God in me.