"The Life of a Vietnam Vet Living with PTSD" by Amber Gardner

Arthur Cole passed away on September 17, 2007, almost a year after he was interviewed for profile. A copy of this piece was found on his favorite chair. This story is dedicated to Arthur, a dear friend to everyone that knew and loved him. May he rest in peace.

Arthur Cole was 18 years old and a recent high school graduate when he was drafted to fight in the Vietnam War. He was not afraid. He endured a rough training course in North Carolina where he familiarized himself with bazookas, World War II tanks and other "weapons you wouldn't believe." A challenging mixture of sweltering summer conditions and endless rain made his preparations for Vietnam even more intense. Still Cole remained brave, admittedly finding a sense of adventure and opportunity in the use of weaponry. He left for Vietnam void of expectations and soon arrived at an evacuation hospital called Long Binh, located outside of Saigon. That night, as the nonstop firing of bullets and the lingering smell of gun powder filled the air, Cole fell into a sound sleep. But he was soon awoken by what he describes as a huge explosion -- and the disturbing realization that his good friend, Richard Barron, had been killed by a bomb. That’s when everything changed.

"Nothing was found of him," Cole, now 58, somberly recalls. Cole, who has resided in Brooklyn for 51 years, slouches in his favorite burgundy recliner, one hand lying on his round stomach and the other displaying specific gestures to illustrate selected words. "I didn’t go to sleep for the next day and a half," he says.

His dry feet are bare and he is comfortably clothed in a large shirt from "Big Daddy Clothing Factory", navy sleep shorts and a pair of reading glasses. His apartment appears notably cluttered -- hundreds of books, particularly Louie Lamoure and P.G Woodhouse titles fill the room and at least seven clocks are in sight. At exactly 8:45pm a cat meows, but this noise is not from a pet because Cole does not share his Midwood co-op. The sound actually comes from a clock, which features a different breed of cat for each hour.

On a tabletop beside Cole is a wooden chest and a case containing thirteen bottles of pills. "This trunk is full of diabetes supplies needles and stuff," he explains. Cole, who lives with diabetes type 2, also suffers from posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), a psychiatric disorder that may occur following the experience or witnessing of life-threatening events such as military combat. "I take thirteen pills in the morning and eleven at night -- and insulin too," Cole attributes his experiences as a soldier in Vietnam as the cause for his wide array of health problems.

In 2000 the Air Force released a study that evaluated airmen's exposure to Agent Orange, a defoliant sprayed over crops to deprive enemies of food, in association with increased risk of diabetes. The study found that veterans with higher dioxin levels (a primary ingredient in the powerful herbicide) were 47 percent more likely to develop diabetes. Another study conducted by the "National Vietnam Veterans Readjustment Survey", additionally established that 15 percent of men who served in Vietnam were diagnosed with PTSD. Recent veteran affair statistics also show that 161,000 veterans are still receiving disability compensation for the anxiety disorder. Cole exists in this fraction of soldiers who primarily suffer from nightmares, flashbacks and difficulty sleeping.

Cole was originally drafted as a helicopter gunman, whose key duty was to sit beside the door of a helicopter and shoot its machine gun. Upon arriving in Vietnam, he was informed that there were no gunman positions available and was instead given the task of a stevedore. As a stevedore, Cole delivered ammunition and loaded ships with palates -- portable platforms used for storing or moving cargo. His stint as a stevedore did not last long because of a fluke accident in which his foot became trapped inside a palate and was run over by a truck. While his broken foot healed, Cole was put to work in a nearby hospital, a place where his most traumatic memories of Vietnam originated.

"The job I had in the hospital was to put the body parts, of people that got blown up, in bags," his voice remains steady as he recollects a moment that has etched his ongoing struggle with PTSD. "I had a torso… no head, no nothing. I had to put two arms and two legs into the bag. They didn’t care if it went with the body."

"That was gross. I got to go to the doctor for it now. I still have nightmares," he says. Every Thursday for the past eight years, Cole sits with a support group of ten other Vietnam veterans who also struggle with PTSD. "We get it out of our system by talking. I’m much better now."

According to Frederick Aiese, licensed clinical social worker at the International Center for the Disabled, dreams of being back in battlefield, startle response and intrusion of thought are all common effects of PTSD. "The person thinks repeatedly about the traumatic incident even when they least expect it," says Aiese. Using a method called psychodynamic psychotherapy Aiese helps patients with their drives and experiences, advanced eye movement, desensitization and reprocessing. "Their progress depends on how significant the trauma was, how long they were exposed to it and what their individual constitution is," he explains.

Cole’s exposure to Vietnam has certainly affected all facets of his life. "If I didn’t go into the service, I’d have been married," he says fondly of his high school sweet heart, a thoughtful woman, whom while he was in combat; mailed him packages of liquor flavored lollypops and empty mayonnaise jars filled with melted snow, which he subsequently drank. "She met somebody else while I was in the service," he reminisces, matter-of-factly, a warm smile remaining fixed on his mouth.

Cole has never been married nor does he have or want any children. When asked if he plans to wed someday, he is quick to use his most frequently exclaimed phrase, "Are ya kidding?" a saying that is fittingly articulated in a Brooklyn accent. "Too young," he says of himself. "Maybe when I’m seventy when I need somebody to clean for me," he jokes. "I’m too set in my ways. I’m a slob so nobody could live with me. Let me tell ya!" One glance around Cole’s apartment could easily affirm this admission. Fill-It-In activity books, planners, calendars and tabloids are strewn across messy tabletops and an unused master bedroom carries nothing but storage. A fridge stocked with cases of Poland Spring water, Arizona Iced Tea and a single carton of eggs is adorned with M&M magnets, the kind that are likely to be found in Good Housekeeping ads.

Cole seems to find solace in life’s simplest pleasures, speaking proudly of his collection of oddball gadgets, pocket knives, watches, mugs, baseball cards, paper money and his mother’s prized antique bells. Adopted as an infant, together with his fraternal twin brother, Stephen, Cole considers his late mother, Elsie Cory, the most influential person in his life and lives by her motto to treat people the way you want to be treated. Having received a plaque for saving a four-year-old girl from the confines of a rapist and another woman held at knifepoint, Cole has certainly established himself as an example of this saying.

"Big deal. Anybody would have something like that," he humbly says of his heroism. "Adults don’t bother me because they can defend themselves. Animals and kids -- That bothers me."

"In Vietnam, they used to put spikes in the jungle in holes and when you stepped on it, the spike went through your foot," he vividly describes, referring to sharp bamboo stakes or punji sticks, which were concealed at an angle in high grass, holes, or deep mud. Often coated with excrement, they were deliberately planted to wound and infect the feet of enemy soldiers. But Cole has a different vision of these weapons and he evokes a haunting memory involving innocent Vietnamese children that were wounded instead. "They used to wear those flip flops like the ones we wear to the beach and I’d see these kids come in the hospital with grungy sticks through their feet," he says, with a chill. "They lost their feet."

"You never get over that. You know, I watch the news, Iraq, and it brings it all back." Cole briefly mentions the hundreds of soldiers he encounters at the Brooklyn VA Medical Center who also suffer from PTSD, including many young men who are recently returning from Iraq. "The ones that went into service now joined for college credit. They couldn’t afford to go to college. They didn’t know they were going to Iraq."

It is apparent that Cole is reflecting upon his three harrowing years in the military as he openly sympathizes with the current state of the army. "I wouldn’t want to be there now cause’ half of them don’t know which end the bullet comes out of. They’re all reserves. They’re not trained."

Cole exudes a calm tenderness throughout most of his retelling of war and death, even when speaking of his step-parents passing. Both his step-father, David Cory, who practiced ministry; and step-mother died in their late ninety’s. And though Cole made the attempt to keep in touch with many friends from Vietnam, he sadly admits to having lost a few to suicides. "They couldn’t take it when they got back to the civilian life," he says. "When we got off the plane in Washington, protestors were throwing rocks at us cause they thought the war was so bad."

Most of all, Cole seems to have an understanding and acceptance of the natural process of life and death. His carefree demeanor and appreciation for simple wonders is a quality that is sincerely illustrated in every sense of his environment and being. "Rarely do you meet someone of his character in your lifetime," says Pat Gardner, Cole’s good friend of 12 years. "He is generous, reliable and honest. He never criticizes and offers good heartfelt advice. He genuinely listens and cares." Though Cole has a deeply captivating life story, he does not regularly address his past experiences in combat. In groups of people, he speaks only when he is spoken to. Often the quiet type, Cole selflessly offers his attention to others with genuine interest and concern.

It is almost hard to believe but underneath Cole’s publicly quiet character exists a true tale of wisdom, bravery, brightness and enduring triumph.

"Terrance Brown: Journalism as a Means to an End" by Alex Grunde

For Terrance Brown, journalism is a means to an ends. His ultimate goal is to do something to make a difference. “Being a black male, you feel you need to get involved,” says Terrance about his desire to create change. In fact, he feels like he may end up in a completely different field, if he can’t find this desired change in journalism. “I’m not sure where I would be most effective,” he says, with the beaming smiles he nearly constantly wears, framed by a short goatee, continuing “Do you want to be the news, or write the news?"

He was born and raised in the Bedford-Stuyvesant area of Brooklyn, where the block-style layout created a “tight-knit community.” However, he also lived in the projects near Williamsburg, which he described as a “paranoid” environment. These experiences helped shaped his view on “the importance of being black,” and making something of himself to influence others.

Brown’s experiences at Eastern District High School also exemplified this juxtaposition of the discordant and uplifting. The high school “was known for its violence and spats between the black students and Dominicans,” where the “gym was ground for... thuggery,” with people carrying knives and guns. The spats were never extreme, but the atmosphere was toxic. When it changed to an “alternative school” named Grand Street Campus, the violence was quelled by placing the Dominicans on separate floors, where classes oriented on English as a Second Language courses. This change mellowed out the school, giving Brown an experience as if he “attended two separate high schools.” However, he said that these changes “didn’t make the education improve.”

Seeing the ethnic tension at Eastern influenced his political opinions, saying “I’m a black male in America, so I’m for anything that can further my group’s image in position in this country, because we’re not past race yet.”

When asked what originally got him thinking about making positive changes in society, he says that “early on in my life, really rappers. Jay-Z, Biggie [a.k.a. the Notorious B.I.G.].” However, his brother Travis, whom Terrance credits as being a huge influence on his life, has a different theory. Travis says that it was Terrance’s experience growing up in a single parent household that pushed him to make a difference. “He doesn’t want people to grow up in the same situation as him,” said Travis, who feels that Terrance’s desire to “expose things that are corrupt” will mean he will “ultimately end up in politics, in some shape or form.” Terrance himself says he can see himself going to law school, because he sees it as a path that will allow him to make a difference. He worries that the “traditional” journalist path is too focused on observing.

Terrance also has an artistic vision in his life. His writing ranges from short stories and short films, and he even co-wrote a full length comedy film. He directed a short film named “Don’t Make Me Over,” a view of how a young black girl’s hairstyle changes mark her “passing to womanhood.” In the future he’d like to get into playwriting, and possibly start an indie record label. Musically, his interests run a large gamut, from mainstream rap artists like Kayne West and Jay-Z to R&B musician Keshia Cole, and even rock music like Coldplay and The Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

Complimenting his artistic spirit are religious and political views that run in the progressive vein. Of his social views, Brown says “I’m liberal, I’m pro choice, for gay marriage, against the war, and any war unless it’s waged to get oneself out of an oppressive position.” The split in this country between “the haves and the have nots” is what he finds to be the most problematic issue in America. He also reads political columns by Tom Friedman, Foreign Affairs columnist for the New York Times. Spiritually he says doesn’t “have any real religious beliefs,” but seems to have an agnostic viewpoint: “Do I believe [in] god? I would say no, but I haven’t ruled out the possibility of there being one.” He said “the closest I’ve been to church is Easter when I was smaller.” He found it too much “like cattle... I don’t think one way. That’s why I couldn’t never be in the military, because you’re taught to think one way, and not to be an individual, and I’m totally against that.”

"Richard Maher: Future Ump" by Jeff Wilkins

When he’s not playing guitar, watching the New York Giants and Mets, or playing poker with his friends, 20-year old Richard Maher spends his time like other diligent college students. He studies countless hours for exams and works hard to ensure his homework is complete on time. A junior at Brooklyn College majoring in journalism, Richard is less than two years away from earning his diploma. However, unlike most college students, that diploma isn’t his ticket to future employment, it’s his backup plan.

Richard, or Richie as his friends and family call him, has his sights set on becoming a Major League Baseball (MLB) umpire. Donning his usual hooded sweatshirt, blue jeans and sneakers, Maher said he wanted to trade in his casual ensemble for a chest-protector and face mask. “Yeah, I’m trying to finish school as quick as possible,” Maher said in his thick Brooklyn accent. “My parents said I have to get my degree before I can go to umpiring school.” The stocky, Canarsie, Brooklyn native appreciates the education he is getting, but is ready to take the next step towards his dream of one day umpiring baseball in the major leagues.

If everything goes according to plan, Maher will be attending the Harry Wendlestedt Umpiring Academy upon his college graduation. The Kissimmee, Florida institution is home of MLB’s official school for umpires. Every year hundreds of hopeful applicants pay the $2800 enrollment fee for the five-week course in hopes making a career out of umpiring baseball games. Applicants must take a written exam testing their complete knowledge and understanding of all the game’s rules and intricacies. From there, the top ten percent move on to the next step of the program, umpiring simulation games. Applicants’ on-field abilities are closely monitored and a very select few are chosen to become official MLB umpires. The chosen individuals will start in baseball’s minor league system and will hopefully one day make it to the big leagues. The amount of time spent in the minor leagues varies upon each umpire’s track record and competence. “Only one out of a thousand actually make it to the big leagues,” Maher explained with a self-assured smile. “Numerically speaking, you have a better shot of making it to the majors as a player than an umpire."

Is Maher at all discouraged by the daunting task ahead of him and the extremely low rates of success for aspiring umpires? Hardly. “Yeah, I’m confident,” Maher said. And why shouldn’t he be? Maher has proved his abilities in nearly four years of umpiring experience. Recognizing he lacked the skills necessary to become a professional ball player, Maher excelled at umpiring as a way of retaining his ties to the game he loves.

He currently calls games at both the little league and high school levels, and has gained the respect of players, coaches, and his fellow umpires alike. “Richie is about as non-biased as they come. He just has a calm nerve and demeanor when he’s out there,” said lifelong friend Will Centeno. “He’s just a good guy.”

Another person who can attest to Maher’s relaxed behavior and honesty both on and off the field is his girlfriend of over four years Joanne Sangueza. “We’ve actually worked on a couple of umpiring crews together,” said Sangueza. “He’s very helpful on the field; he’s not there just to criticize.” The couple first met when they were in elementary school and Maher’s father was the coach of Sangueza’s softball team. When asked what she thought of Richie’s chances of making it to the big leagues, Sangueza responded without hesitation, “He can definitely make it. He’s confident and he has the dedication it takes to get there.”

Perhaps Maher’s biggest asset in turning his umpiring dream into a reality is the love and support of his family. “My parents have always encouraged me to do what I like. They never hindered me,” Maher said of his father, Richard, and mother, Christine.

Centeno agrees with his assessment. “Richie’s family is awesome. They always support him one hundred percent with whatever he tries to do. I’ve grown up with his family, and Richie is like a brother to me.”

Although his little sister Alyssa accidentally killed his goldfish when she mistook chili pepper for fish food, Maher is always looking out for his two younger siblings. In fact, he not only sees umpiring as a way of making himself happy, but it would also benefit his younger brother Matthew as well. “If I became a professional umpire, my brother would be the happiest kid in the world because I could get him free tickets,” he said jokingly.

Whether or not Maher ultimately reaches his goal of becoming a professional umpire, he can take solace in the fact he has positively impacted the lives of everyone around him. “Richie is the best guy in the world. He always puts other people’s interests in front of his own. He’s there to help everyone,” said Sangueza. If honesty and selflessness were part of the criteria for becoming an umpire, Maher’s friends and family would put him at the major league level.

"Nawn Realizes His True Calling" by Marcus Bethel

Cold calling on Wall Street is hardly what 20-year-old Mushtaq Choudhury of Sunnyside, Queens would refer to as his “true calling” since this aspiring young journalist’s passion for writing outweighs every other interest in his extremely busy life.

Originally from Richmond Hill, Queens, Nawn, as he is otherwise known, “is an outstanding individual, very political and a very good person,” as his life-long friend Owen Awning, describes him. He attended Richmond Hill High School, where he won a partial basketball scholarship to West Virginia University. While away at West Virginia University, he discovered the essence of independence and responsibility, encouraging his breakaway from his parents on his return to Queens.

His tenure at West Virginia University was a short one; Choudhury is currently a junior at Brooklyn College, where his major is journalism, complimented by a minor in film. At West Virginia University, Choudhury originally played as a combo guard – having a point guard body with a shooting guard game. Later, he become a point guard, but encountered problems having to make the adjustment.

Things took an interesting turn for Choudhury when he wrote “Social Segregation in Rural Town of Keyser, WV,” an article which highlighted the issue of segregation in the small town, for the Pasquino, West Virginia University’s school newspaper. The article got major recognition, propelling Choudhury to editor-in-chief, a position he held for two years. His focus shifted from basketball to writing.

Choudhury, to maintain his scholarship, had to juggle five intense hours of basketball practice (three hours team practice, one hour film review and an hour group work with the coach) with his role as editor-in-chief of his paper, combined with his commitment to his regular school work.

At five feet nine inches and a bit on the heavy side, Choudhury’s great interest for basketball was driven by his father’s love of the sport. “My father liked basketball so I always wanted to impress him,” he said. He described his father as an accomplished individual, who was responsible for bringing his extended family to New York, migrating from Celep, Bangladesh, a small country which shares its western boundaries with India.

Choudhury’s hectic daily four-train-commute to Brooklyn College, starts with the A to the C to the S and finally to the no. 2 train to Flatbush Avenue, is no deterrent for him. Though he often times dreads the return trip which could take well in excess of an hour and a half, Choudhury claims every minute is well spent as he enjoys his time here. “It was my first choice in New York because Columbia was too expensive,” said Choudhury. “Brooklyn College, challenges the average student to excel, having a great curriculum in comparison with the other CUNY schools, offering a well rounded education.”

Choudhury family has strong religious ethics well rooted into the Islamic religion; having a tradition of arranged marriages, something Choudhury has no real interest in. His lack of interest in his family’s traditional customs and values is attributed to his American upbringing, and lack of exposure to the real customs of his ancestors.

Choudhury does his best trying to confirm with his parents wishes by praying three times daily, also sharing the food and other culturally related aspects of his family’s religious rituals. “Though I don’t really understand what is said or recited during religious ceremonies,” Choudhury admits “I read a bit of Arabic myself.”

As he continues his pursuit of happiness and “The American Dream,” Choudhury hopes to combine his common interests in basketball and business with his passion for journalism in the future, to nurture his dream of having his own magazine; a publication he said, will concentrate on sports and business in the New York area.

"Michael Giardina: Covering Sports for a Living" by Angela Alvarez

In 1986 when the Mets won the World Series, in a home in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, John Giardina lifted his one-year-old brother up and hit the child’s head on the ceiling. This is how Michael Giardina remembers his favorite sports moment.

Sitting comfortably dressed in a light blue football jersey and baggy jeans, Giardina, who is now 21, speaks of his life with almost a hint of boredom in his voice. He does not move, except to shake his right hand a little to signal when he thinks something is important and should be noted. But get him talking about sports, and the man is a fountain of interesting information, funny anecdotes and energetic movement. His love for sports is what is leading him into the field of journalism, and what will ultimately make his dream career of being a sports journalist, a dream come true.

Giardina has lived in Bensonhurst all his life. He lives with his parents, and has three older brothers. Even while talking about his family, he cannot help but include athletic tidbits. When Giardina and his brothers were younger, they showed him how to swing a bat, but Giardina admits that he learned by mostly watching them and playing with them. “I learned a lot about sports from my brothers. But now, I’m better than them in most sports. It’s good to get some revenge.” He grins.

It’s not a surprise that his main hobbies are anything sports related. While watching sports on the television, Giardina gets extremely excited. “He gets really into the game when he is watching. If the team he’s rooting for is doing badly, he gets depressed and mad. If they do well, he’s happy,” said his older brother Phil Giardina. When Phil and Michael were younger, they used to play with other kids out in the streets. Streetlights, which resemble goal posts, made football the game to play. However, these days, they get together at the park and play basketball.

Giardina not only watches sports with his family, he watches with his girlfriend of three years, Taryn Byrnes. “We watch and go to many sporting events together. He will go to almost any game he can get tickets for,” she said. Giardina, who was extremely happy about the recent success of the Mets, hopes to get future tickets for their games.

Talking about sports brings a smile to his face, and writing about them does just the same. Giardina’s dream career is to be a sports journalist covering the most exciting games. “I want to be in the middle of it and know everything first before anybody else does. There is a power in that,” he said. In ten years, he hopes to be working for ESPN magazine, covering the Mets and the Jets, his two favorite New York teams. “This would not just be a job for him. Rather, he’ll be doing something he loves and will be able to put a lot of knowledge and effort into it,” said Byrnes.

Giardina’s family firmly believes that he will be successful combining his favorite activity and his love for writing. “He will be just like Ray Barone from Everybody Loves Raymond,” said Phil Giardina, comparing his brother to the successful sports journalist played by Ray Romano on the hit TV show. But in this case, they all love Michael.

"Marcus Bethel: Ambition Reaches Far Beyond the Horizon" by Mushtaq Choudhury

Marcus Bethel spent many days on the shore of Petite, Martinque Island, where he loaded up his boat with equipment to dive into the dangerous waters to spear fish for a living.

To him, the shore represented more than just a job; it was also where he sat and sometimes wondered, outside the boundaries of the island, in search for more. Equipped with ambition and dreams, his eyes reached far passed the horizon.

When he first arrived in Brooklyn from Petite Martinque, an immigrant new to the surrounding city that contains millions of people, it could have easily scared Bethel away. Not in his case. Bethel says that on the island people dreamed about more and the opportunity was finally here for him.

Petite Martinique is a small island in the tri-state islands of Grenada. Discovered by a French man in the 1700’s, the island has a blend of African and European influences and languages. With a population of only 1,000 people on the island, Bethel felt boundaries suffocating and often felt unfulfilled. The island had only had one primary school which Bethel as well as high school and some college studies.

Bethel describes his life on the island as life experience that built him for the city life. Dressed in a dark shirt with blue jeans and cross-training sneakers, he speaks

about life on Petite Martinque. With his fingers close to his chin, he describes the islands’ characteristics with a deep tone hidden under a thick accent, equipped with stern eyes that could shatter the glasses on his face. He rarely cracks a smile when he speak, but his voice demands attention by ear.

In an island where fishing, boat-building, and sailing where the main jobs and where most the population were struggling to maintain a stable life, Bethel worked hard but always thought about the idea of leaving the island.

“I often thought this man wasn’t paying me enough for dangerous work, when I could save up money and live a different life excluding the blueprint life of the island,” said Bethel.

Bethel and Mathew Joseph were best buddies on the island where they sometimes worked on the same boat together as divers, and always talked about leaving the island for financial satiability.

“As a young man he worked hard at diving and spear fishing and eventually saved up enough money and bought his own boat to raise his earnings,” said Joseph, Bethels’ best friend.

His friends and family called Bethel adventurous but it was his desire that pushed him to want more. He found a passion of literature and writing while he worked for 6 months teaching elementary students.

“I wanted more for myself, I knew if I was able to save enough money to leave the island I would be able to flourish elsewhere,” he said.

For the next couple of years Bethel kept working hard, spear fishing, assembling boats, and playing cricket with friends in the free time to keep his mind busy from thinking about leaving the island.

His older brother and sister both already left the island to New York City; Bethel was often tempted to leave sooner rather than later. Joseph also said many people had come back to the island with stories of the outside world and how financially better things were.

In 2000, Bethel decided the time was right leaving behind his mother and father and a life he lived for many years to take on a new life with higher education and a possible career in writing.

Bethel made way to New York City, where he lived with his sister in Brooklyn for a while until he landed a job with a construction company where he did interior renovation.

Though he was lucky enough to land a good job so soon but adjusting to the actual size of the city was the hardest of all. He often found himself lost while trying to read the street signs for direction.

By working two jobs he was able to enroll in Brooklyn College as a creative writing major. College gave Bethel an opportunity to fulfill an education satisfying enough to feed his ambitions of being a published author.

Living with his girlfriend and a 1-year-old son, Bethel often reminisces about his life at the island and breathes a sign of relief that most of the hard work adjusting to new surroundings has been accomplished.

Bethel has been writing short stories and fiction, hoping for future publication. Bethel hopes one day to be an established author with many publications, some about his adventurous life on the island

“Focus, the ability to be self driven, and devotion were the key ingredients to success so far,” Bethel said, as he looked through his glasses with demanding eyes that could reach for the skies.

"Angela Alvarez: Videogaming Is It" by Michael Giardina

Video gaming is an obsession for many pre-teens and teens. But for Queens native, Angela Alvarez, it is life. Her free hours are dedicated to this infatuation that has become part of her career goals. This journalism hopeful looks forward to reporting on the entire field of gaming. She is truly mixing work with pleasure.

Alvarez, 19, has lived in East Elmhurst, Queens her entire life. The half-Chinese, half-Peruvian Brooklyn college student hopes to use her love of gaming and writing and fuse the two into a focused career path. “When I play video games I get a rush out of it,” Alvarez said “I'd rather be playing a video game than doing what other people my age are doing.” She hopes to write for magazines where she can report on the releases of games and new systems.

Alvarez was raised by her grandmother her entire life. She was the only one of her five brothers and sisters to have this option “My family is kind of crazy and dysfunctional,” Alvarez said “we’ve had a lot of personal family conflicts.” Her father has had trouble with alcoholism and this is the main reason why she was raised by her grandmother. She is very family oriented with her siblings, especially her older sisters.

She feels her parents cut ties a long time ago. “I never saw my mother as a mother figure,” Alvarez said “and my dad, I am not close to him at all.” Her family is well known in their neighborhood due to her father’s troubles; she was picked on as a child because of her family’s problems. Her rough childhood has given her a tough and strong personality. She has pushed herself to graduate from Hillcrest High School in Queens, to play on their soccer team and was a vital part of the high school newspaper.

She is the first one of her family to attend college, and will most likely be the first to graduate. “I'm happy that I'm the first,” Alvarez said “It makes you feel important, and special.”

Her older sister Janet Baceols is optimistic for her sister’s future. “I try to encourage her to finish school because she would be the first in our family,” Baceols said “I want her to have to have better and more than we had as kids.”

Her sister Cynthia Alvarez who is also older than Angela feels the same way. “In a way I’m partially responsible for her being in college, because I’ve always encouraged her to reach for her dreams,” Cynthia Alvarez said “but it is her drive that got her there.”

Alvarez sits in the news lab tapping her pen on the desk, but she is very calm. She is dressed in a white sweatshirt with blue jeans on and white sneakers. She constantly smiles with each answer exposing her confidence, and jokes constantly revealing her composure.

Alvarez has a clear notion of what she wants to do. “I want to write for Electronic Gaming Monthly or Game Informer,” Alvarez said, smiling. These two magazines are the leading video game publication in the country. Her dream beat would be to cover important gaming show expos such as E3 that is hosted by Japan annually. She also hopes to cover new system launchings such as Playstation 3’s unveiling upcoming in November.

Her family sees her success in her future career path with mixed emotions. Her grandma who raised her entire life feels it’s not a good choice. “My grandmother is traditional, and we clash with ideas,” Alvarez said “she wants me to be a nurse or a teacher.” Her grandmother’s wishes for her a different career path is because of money problems she feels Angela will have in her chosen career path. “I'm upset that what I want to do in life is not what my grandmother is expecting,” Alvarez said “but I'm trying to live my life the way I want.”

Her sister Janet on the other hand has nothing but support for her choice, “I think she will [succeed] because she seems to have a passion for it and that’s important when having a career vs. just a job.”

Alvarez’s inspirations in her career choice would be primarily her high school journalism teacher Robin Lauzon. “She pushed me every year,” Alvarez said. Angela worked hard on the high school publication, and in her senior year her hard work paid off. She became editor-in-chief of the newspaper. “I never imagined in my life that I would be editor-in-chief of my high school paper,” Alvarez said “I was excited and felt important, I learned so much that year.”

While there are mixed feelings about her career choice, Alvarez feels that her family supports her in achieving her college degree. “I try to encourage her to finish school,” Baceols said “I want for her what I want for my own children.”

Many people today choose what will bring them the most money. “I know the most will be making is around 40 to 50 thousand a year,” Alvarez said. She says even if video gaming reporting falls through, she would even work with any woman’s magazine. She is attracted to what she loves, and her career choice is nothing different. She should be admired because she is chasing her dream, and not settling for the money.