Gone But Not Forgotten: John Malone

Sportsmanship, competition, and basketball: three things that John Malone treasures and showed on and off the court. Just one year ago, Fenwick High School lost a member of the class of 2011, John Malone Jr., in a car accident. Malone was a star basketball player for the Friars, and the game he played is now a memorial to him.

Fellow classmates Leo Latz, Tim Gancer, Joe Dwyer, and Dylan Barnett created the John Malone Memorial Basketball Tournament at Fenwick. It is now in its second year and is still going strong. However, the tournament is not the only way Malone is being remembered at Fenwick High School.

"There is the John Malone 52 scholarship that is academic based. It goes to two incoming freshmen and one current senior; they are each worth $3,000," said Latz.

The fund is sponsored through donations and selling custom made t-shirts at the tournament that has Malone's name and number he wore at Fenwick on the back. In their first year alone, the fund was able to raise almost $4,000.

"The tournament says a lot about the Fenwick communtiy," said Gancer. "Event though you may not have been great friends with him, people still came out to support the family and each other."

The Malone family as well as fellow classmates are hoping for this tournament and scholarship to continue on in the many years to come.

Malone touched everyone's hearts in some way. Whether it was through his warm smile, his humor, or just any memory that someone had with them, Malone defined what a Fenwick Friar is. He treated everyone with respect, kindness, and compassion. John Malone may have physically left this world, but his spirit and presence is eternal and with each and every one he ever had contact with.

Special thanks to Scott Theis, Athletic Director at Fenwick High School, and the Malone family.

A Sharp Turn Down the Road of Life

Well, as many of you may know, I am out in Omaha, interning at WOWT in the sports department. I'm having the best summer, getting hands-on experience in a newsroom, and living the dream covering some Triple A baseball and the College World Series. Guess what; I'm not there.

After just two days in the newsroom, I started feeling very sick. I could barely keep my eyes open, because the light hurt my eyes. I was fatigued all the time, trying to fit multiple naps in somewhere throughout my day. I couldn't talk, because my throat felt swollen. My head was pounding non-stop; I didn't know what was wrong with me. I thought it was a 24-hour bug so I went in to the station the next day.

I was still not feeling well, but I was better than I was the day before. I went in to the newsroom, and I was trying to find some energy. I was getting weaker and weaker. I was using so much energy to just try and keep my eyes open. I went to a doctor, and they told me it was a sinus infection. They gave me some antibiotics, and I went on my way home.

A couple days later, I was still wasn't feeling well. I ended up getting sick while I was on the job. I went to another doctor, and they gave me different antibiotics. It did nothing; I was getting really upset, because I was missing all these days at the station without getting any better. Finally, my uncle noticed that I was red in the face and not my normal sunburn red. I looked in the mirror, and it looked like I had chicken pox all over my face. I went to a doctor for the third time. They said it was either strep or mono (mind you, I haven't had strep since I had my tonsils and anoids removed when I was 5). Doc came back after running a blood test and told me I had tested positive for mono.

Those were the hardest six words I have ever heard. Those words meant my internship was done, my part time job I had was done, and I would have to come back home to Chicago. I was balling my eyes out, knowing that the summer I was so excited for just disappeared. I went back to my uncle's house and just could not stop crying. I called my boss at the station, and he was really understanding of the whole situation. I was only in the newsroom for four days, and he still offered me the internship for next summer. That was the absolute last thing I expected; I was waiting for a "Well, it was great working with you for a short time. Feel better and enjoy your upcoming school year." Four days and I still received an internship for next summer? I was astounded.

I called my parents, and my mom flew out to come and get me on Father's Day. I just sunk into depression on the entire eight hour drive back to Chicago. Granted, I was given a second chance for next summer, but I wanted it this summer (you will come to find that I can be very impatient). I was so upset at myself for not taking care of my body throughout the entire school year. Instead, I ignored any health problem I had so I could be with friends, study, or be at WOUB on campus.

A month and 20 pounds later, I am almost over this disease. I had red dots all over my body, I lost so much weight, my hearing was damaged, and I slept for practically a month. Blood test after blood test, aspirins, constant visits to doctors; I swear Northwestern Hospital should know me by name by now. All this free time that I've had this month has helped me instead of harmed me, like I originally thought.

I have been spending this time getting healthy as a way to continue my work. I have been writing constantly, whether it's on this blog or it's a sports piece for SportsRants Women. I have been working on my memoirs non stop. While my family went on their vacation, I spent time with my grandfather (by that, I mean he spoiled me). I've found this new strength, both physical and mental, that I've never experienced. This time has taught me to think of each sharp turn down this road of life as the long way to acheiving my goals and aspirations. Eventually, I'll get there with hard work, connections, and a bit of luck. Am I happy I got mono? No, but I am happy with what this disease did to me: open my eyes a bit more and just go along for the drive on this road of life.

Being a Big Girl: Another Step in Adulthood

What a month. I'm now a junior in college; it feels like it was just yesterday that I graduated high school. Time really flies when you do what you love. I finished the torturous finals week and was ready to start my summer. I was only home for three weeks, and boy, did they put me to the test.

I knew coming back home was going to be difficult. My grandmother's health was declining, friends were in town for only a short while, and I was only going to be home for three weeks. I had a lot to do in a short amount of time. My first week was spent with family seeing as my friends were just then entering their finals week. I visited my grandmother on almost a daily basis, checking in and making sure everything was ok.

Days pass by, and her health deteriorated rapidly. She was having a hard time just doing basic things, like breathing. She was able to make it through Mother's Day, but shortly there after, she took her last breath. My grandmother passed away on May 18, one week before I was supposed to leave for the summer.

I apologize for starting on a sad note, but when you lose someone that close to you, it needs to be stated first and foremost. I was able to catch up with my friends, patch up differences with old friends, and make new ones as well. I was able to see a few friends of mine that I haven't seen since I was 10 years old. I met new people at my grandmother's memorial service and at random restaurants all over the city.

However, this past week alone has taught me that I'm not just Mom and Dad's daughter; I need to grow and be on my own. Yes, that's what college is for, exploring new found independence, but eventually, you come home. Sometimes, you see your parents in their weakest states and have to be their shoulder to cry and depend on. Other times, you realize that your siblings will age and become more and more mature; they don't need you to mother them anymore.

I've had both revelations this past week. Being the oldest, I am already someone that the family depends on with petty housework and babysitting. But when I became an emotional pillar for my mother, that's when reality really kicked in. I have to grow up and stop acting like a child. I have to be there for my family (as everyone should always be there for their families), but I also need to grow and flourish as an individual and as a journalist.

This past week, I had the amazing opportunity to get a tour of Halas Hall and meet with the communications department of the Chicago Bears. I was able to pick their brains for knowledge and frankly anything that could give me an edge in the extremely competitive journalism field. I wanted to make my name resonate in their minds and make them remember me as maybe a future potential employee, not just a star struck Bears fan.

Now, as you're reading this, I'm on my way to Omaha, Nebraska, to start my first professional internship. I've had this position since March, and now the anticipation is over. I'm taking my first baby step into adulthood by making my first solo road trip to another state. I'm going to get a taste of what living off of the Mom and Dad fund (well, not entirely off) is going to feel like. Only two years separate me from the real world. It's time to grow up and become a big girl.

Death of Personal Beauty

I'm just going to take a second and let you grasp what this post is going to be about: death. No one likes to write about issues like this. That's what the obituaries are for: reporting people that have died. A girl who is only a sophomore in college has no right or experience to speak about death and the toll it has on a person's life. Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know that age was a factor. Sorry to burst your bubble buddy, but until you have walked in my shoes for a day, then just quiet down for a hot second.

Death. Death means many things; it could mean the death of a person, an idea, a trend, or a soul. It could mean that someone has brutally attacked another person that caused the victim to re-evaluate everything in their life. It could also mean that someone was physically attacked with a gun, knife, cancer, or disease that took them away from this planet.

In today's society, it seems like the latter is happening to people at younger and younger ages. Just recently in Chicago, a 14 year old shot and killed another classmate. Take that in for a moment. A 14 year old used a gun to kill another classmate. What was the motive? It's unknown at this point in the investigation.

That's just in a neighborhood. I'm going to let you into my walled up life to see what death of a human being can do to someone. In my short span of almost 20 years on this great Earth of ours, I have lost 15 people in my life, ranging from family members to best friends. To sum it up: I'll just give you a list real quick:
 - I saw my best friend's body(he was 18) hanging from a rafter at the age of 14
 - My grandfather, two uncles, and cousin died of cancer
 - Six close friends of mine died from drug overdosees (All were 14, 15, 17, 18, 20, and 22)
 - A classmate of mine drowned (He was 17)
 - An infant of a family friend of mine died of downs syndrome (She was 3)
 - Another best friend of mine was shot and killed by a gang member (He was 24)
 - Another close friend of mine died of alcohol poisoning on her 21st birthday

All of these happened in span from 2009-2014. In a span of 5 years, I have lost 15 people close to me in my life. Do you notice something that is consistent? Excluding the family members, all these deaths are happening to youth, young adults, even infants.

In today's society, there are MILLIONS of pressures put on youth that so many people do not even realize stress out these children. Parental pressure to get the best grades, sibling comparison to why you aren't as athletic or intelligent, peer pressure to do drugs or drink early on, media pressures to look a certain way, and personal pressures to be successful.

Some people cannot handle these stressors in a healthy way. All of my friends that committed suicide or died of drug overdose were ridiculously stressed out. The reason my friends did drugs was to escape reality and the stress of the real world. They didn't have a healthy outlet to relieve their stress; they decided to shoot up, snort, or smoke instead. It put them in a different realm where the real world didn't matter for a few moments. That realm needs to exist outside of a drug high.

Here's a message to all these people: STOP PUTTING PRESSURE ON THESE CHILDREN.

Parents, stop comparing your children to their siblings. John Doe will never be the same as Mary Doe and vice versa. Even if Mary is the star child, athlete, or whatever, don't compare John to her. He has a different skill set than her; he has different talents than her. No two people are ever the exact same; stop trying to make it that way.

Peers and friends: don't pressure people to do things they don't want to do. If someone does not want to drink, don't call them a loser, dork, wuss, etc. Just accept it and live your life. Stop trying to control their actions. They are their own person and will do what they want to do. Let them make their own decisions and live through their mistakes or successes. It's not your place to mold them to be your perfect friend.

The media, oh boy. I am a part of the media; I am a journalist. I know the pressures the media is putting on society, and I am a part of it. Honestly, these media personnel, especially Hollywood, stop defining beauty. As cliche as this may sound, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." What one person finds attractive in one person, someone else may not find attractive.

For example, I know many girls that find very buff, ripped men very attractive. Personally, those people scare me; they look like they have bowling balls in their body. I find a man in a suit 1,000 times more attractive than a guy in a bro tank and salmon-colored shorts.

There are differences among people; stop trying to create this "perfection" image. It's not about what the people look like, well slightly. It's about the personality that's attached to it. I know MANY men that are ridiculously attractive but treat me like I'm a piece of meat. I am not your slave; I am an independent woman that will tell you to get off your own two feet and get yourself a sandwhich. I am not here to serve you; I am here because we both are attracted to each other, physically and emotionally.

Ladies, embrace yourself. Give yourself confidence and work your flaws. These stressors that society, parents, peers, and siblings are using against you? Push them aside and just work through it. Be strong and confident about yourself, both physically and emotionally. Not everyone can fit the 5'6" skinny, blonde, tan, athletic housewife stereotype that society is making us buy. I know I sure don't. I'm 6'1" and believe me when I say that men are intimidated by my height alone. It's quite frustrating.

Men, the same goes for you. You don't have to look like Ryan Gosling or David Beckham. That's what we have them for, to look at. What we want from you? A caring, chivalrous, supportive, humorous partner in life. We're not looking for a father or a slave master; we're looking for someone to be our partner and support us emotionally; someone that loves us for how big our personality is, not how big our rack is.

These stressors are causing these youthful deaths. Stop pushing these pressures on the youth. Another cliche, but this generation is the future. Stop pressuring us to be something we are not. We are who we want to be. You're going to have to accept it and deal with.

Tragedies Keep Rolling

I thought I have experienced a taste of everything, and when I say everything, I mean everything. Apparently, life decided to throw a few curveballs my way and blow my mind. Let me give you a bit of a back story just so you know what I mean how I have experienced many things in my short span of life.

First off, over a span of four years, I have lost 13 people that I hold near and dear to my heart. At my young age, I have already lost multiple family members, classmates, and best friends. They have all passed in different ways, ranging from cancer to drug overdose to drowning. This has taken a toll on me emotionally and mentally. I can barely recall the last time I cried, and I have learned to suppress emotion to the point where I can get sick.

Secondly, at the age of 16, my family was on the verge of losing my home. Imagine back to when you were a teenager. You probably did not worry much about family finances, taking care of much younger siblings on a daily basis, or finding ways to help the family save every single penny. Your mind was probably on what you want to do for prom, when you can see your friends this weekend, and what college you will be attending shortly. I was worrying about all the things listed, as well as how I could afford college, athletics, and extracurriculars.

Finally, I did not have one person that I could call a friend until I was 16. Imagine not having a single person that would be with you consistently, through all the ups and downs, good and bad times, and everything in between for 16 years of your life. I was horribly treated by people who I thought were my friends, and the ones that I was close to ended up passing away before I went to high school.

Just recently, my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer for the third time in her life. I know that I am on the verge of losing another person that I hold close to my heart and love deeply. I now have to suppress more emotion to not show weakness.

There is a lot more to my story, but I am not here to list my past problems. I am here to help inspire you, the reader. I have experienced many tragedies in my incredibly short lifetime. What is the point of me "whining" to you? To let you know that a tragedy does make you stronger. All these tragedies have taught me three things that I want to pass on to you:

1) Life is way too short for regrets. I lost someone who was only 17 when he passed. He lived life to the fullest, and I am doing the same thing. I do everything with a purpose and a reason, and I will make sure that it gets done.

2) People will come and go from your life, and you must learn how to cope with it. Most of the people that passed away all died the end of my freshman year and beginning of my sophomore year of high school. I had to learn how to still put a smile on my face while internally I was crying and screaming. I learned how to move on when something horrible happens in my life.

3) Love yourself, and surround yourself with people who love you for you. I will be honest: I absolutely hated myself when I was younger. I did not like the person I saw in the mirror every morning. I created a fake personality, fake past, and fake persona to make myself socially acceptable. When I was in my junior year, I met someone that I praise and thank God everyday for being in my life: my best friend. She saved me from myself and introduced me to myself. I met people who loved me for me, not the fasad I had on for almost all of high school. Since then, I now have a better self-image and love me for me.

I know all three of these things sound incredibly generic; they are all true. All three of these things are ideals that have made me love myself again. Now I can wake up every morning with a purpose in life, look in the mirror, and not hate the reflection. It is an incredible feeling that I hope I can pass on to others across the globe. Let all the tragedies that roll into your life make you ten times stronger.

Questioning My Title?

I bet you are reading that title thinking, "What in the world?" I bet you thought it was not really creative or new.  It probably will not be that popular and be unknown to the rest of the interwebs. Sometimes, the title is not meant to grab the attention of millions; it is representative of who I am.  This post to introduce you, the kind and wonderful reader, to who this girl writing is.

My name is Karli Bell.  I am a native Chicagoan, a city girl to the core.  I am a 2012 graduate from Fenwick High School and a current student at Ohio University, chasing a broadcast journalism degree.

I am a sports and music fanatic (I have a countdown to when the NFL season starts on my laptop).  I listen to music on every possible occasion I can.  I am a social media fanatic, as in I have a ridiculous amount of social media accounts that I use on a daily basis.  I love to write in any way, shape, or form, from poems to mind jolting political opinion columns.

I am a die hard Chicago Bears and Chicago White Sox fan.  I watch every single Bears game, including preseason.  I follow every Bears beat reporter on Twitter and Facebook. I follow every Bears player on Twitter and all ESPN correspondents for the Bears.  So when I say I am a die hard, I am a knowledgeable fan.

Why I am telling all of you this, and how does this correspond to my title, "Karli with a K?" As you can see, my name is a unique spelling of the generic name of Carly.  When I was younger, even today, no one ever spelled my name correctly. People would usually get the ending correctly but never the beginning.  So when people asked for my name, I would respond with, "Karli with a k," and spell it out for them.

This actually carried into college, where a few good friends of mine actually refer to me as Karli with a K.  It stuck, and through this blog, I will make sure it sticks.  I embrace my difference in my name and use this difference to my advantage.  I try to be as different and unique as my name.  Hopefully, this blog will prove it to you.

Enjoy.