Everyone remembers the Parkland, Florida shooting that occurred in February 2018, taking the lives of 17 students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. Just recently news has come out that two MSDHS students have committed suicide. I personally found out about this news on Twitter, where people took to tweeting about mental health, particularly PTSD in this case.
I believe that schools do not do an adequate job of addressing and working with mental health issues. At my own university, there is always a waitlist, sometimes a month-long to see a therapist on campus. My school does provide counseling services for free on campus, which is amazing, but they are severely understaffed. As college students, many of us cannot afford to go to therapy regularly. My school has good intentions with the free counseling program, but overall they need to expand their efforts. A student should not face a month-long waitlist when they choose to seek help.
Thinking back to my high school experience, I cannot remember a single mention of mental health outside of learning about different disorders in psychology class. I’m not quite sure why high schools don’t generally address the topic of mental health, but I believe this is a huge mistake. High school environments are home to bullying, stress, and expectations that all take a huge toll on students’ mental health. I thoroughly believe that high schools should not only be educating students about mental health, but also offering more services for help.
The students of Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School survived an extremely tragic event that will undoubtedly stay with them and shape their lives forever. It is highly likely that many of the students at MSDHS have or will develop PTSD due to this experience. Especially after a tragic event, schools should address mental health and work with the students to work through grief or trauma. MSDHS already lost 17 students to gun violence, and it is horrible that they are losing even more to suicide.
Various news articles say that students of MSDHS were feeling what is known as “survivor’s guilt”, ultimately leading to suicide. After such a traumatic event as the mass shooting, MSDHS should have been much more focused on mental health for both the students and the rest of the community surrounding the school. Tweets from MSDHS students revealed as early as a week after the shooting, students were expected to return back to normal school life as if nothing had happened.
News has also recently come out that a parent of one of the victims of the 2012 Sandy Hook shooting has also committed suicide. We all know the deadly effects of gun violence, but it seems that the lasting mental effects afterwards are not addressed or sufficiently treated. Although losing a child or a friend is not something a person can easily get over, the mental health effects can be handled better if we just addressed them. Those who survive shooting situations should, without a doubt, be provided with adequate mental health care. No one can effectively walk away from such a situation and be completely fine. Mental health concerns should be taken far more seriously if we want to stop these tragic suicides.
This article was originally published on 15 February 2019.
Silverback’s Note: There are no “Avengers: Endgame” spoilers ahead.
We gather at the Acropolis of Brooklyn. Our sneakers hit the artificial turf from various races, ethnicities, experiences, sexualities, regions, sizes, shapes, journeys, and stories.
Some of us drive the subway cars that herd millions of New Yorkers and visitors throughout this great city.
Some of us have raised our right hands to take an oath to support and defend the laws of the United States Constitution.
Some of us aspire to perform our talents under the brightest lights on the biggest stages.
We are “Kranksters.”
And on the surface, what brings this diverse community together is simply iron, rubber, and sweat.
However, if you attune your ears to the sounds that thunder from Krank Brooklyn you might hear a beautiful harmony.
Situated on the top floor of a less than auspicious storage facility, Krank is a boutique fitness gym featuring a body of citizens that exemplify America’s idealistic goals for diversity.
For me though, Krank has been the buoy that I drift to in my darkest moments lost at sea.
Owner Dan Salazar launched Krank in 2010. His love of performance science and insane competitive drive fueled his passion to master the art of training himself and others. The dude has over 15 training related credentials and certifications. The guy basically has information spilling out of his signature beanie. He is so encouraging, his energy is infectious.
A native New Yorker from the Lower East Side (LES) of Manhattan, Dan’s entrepreneurial spirit embodies a dream that has been fulfilled for millions of Latinos who arrived in New York City just a generation ago hoping to provide a better future for their families.
Dan’s vast knowledge and passion for training is what attracted some of the first Kranksters to join the gym. Admittedly, these first Kranksters were some of his childhood friends from the neighborhood in LES.
You may not be aware of this but it’s a Herculean task to get folks who live in Manhattan to cross the bridge and come into Brooklyn for anything — let alone to work out. The fact that he was able to convince his friends from the neighborhood to cross the bridge and put them through grueling workouts is a testament to just how special of a guy Dan is.
These “O.G. Kranksters” cemented the foundation this community is built upon.
One of these O.G.’s changed the course of his career by joining Krank. Head Coach, Miguel Gonzalez, known by various nicknames that are all synonymous with pain — mostly goes by “Migs” for short.
Miguel is genetically gifted and incredibly hard-working. The gods bestowed upon him a physique that appears to be carved out of marble, and I am convinced that he farts body fat for laughs. Nicknames and body fat aside, my fellow Aquarian is one of the most authentic, genuine, and caring guys I’ve come to know in recent years. I’ve always walked away from our discussions with a deep sense of connection. But more on that later.
Today — almost a decade later — Dan and Miguel continue to conduct Krank sessions like maestros. Directing, instructing, encouraging Kranksters and coaches to push themselves even harder to achieve their goals. All while remaining in tune with the pulse and pace of every section of this iron orchestra.
Traditional orchestras have four sections separated into categories of instrument. There is a woodwind, brass, percussion, and string section. Krank’s iron orchestra also features four sections. There’s the turf section, the rubber section, the iron section, and the raised platform section.
It was at this Acropolis where I built my Parthenon: my temple dedicated to guarding myself against my innermost demons.
Like most first time Kranksters, I couldn’t find the gym for my first session back in 2013. (Spoiler alert, the gym is actually inside the storage facility next to the Brooklyn Queens Expressway)
I hobbled into this no-frills storage facility desperate to make a change.
A few months earlier I had torn my second Achilles’ tendon playing basketball and required surgery to repair the injury.
Against my surgeon’s advice and with my thighs chafing from the August humidity, I rode the elevator thinking to myself, “What the (bleep) did I get myself into?”
Dan and Miguel’s attention to the limitations of my injury and their vast knowledge of modifying exercises for me to prevent further injury reassured me that this gym was the perfect match.
Months later I had reclaimed my body and was stronger than ever, but even more importantly, I had formed new friendships with some amazing people I had met along my Krank journey.
I love to challenge and compete with myself. But how does one compete with themselves without first establishing a baseline of success?
All right: Now I’ll admit that while I was hobbling through my first session I was picking out other Kranksters who I wanted to model my success after.
Later I would meet three Krank legends: Angel, Jamal, and Jessica.
Angel, an O.G. Krankster from LES, is a devoted family man and the strongest person that I know. Now I’m strong for your average mortal, but Angel is a Puerto Rican Samson. His strength is of biblical proportions.
Jamal, an O.G. Krankster from Brooklyn of Caribbean descent, is the most athletic person that I know. After years at Krank, I surpassed him in strength on the bench press and he then put me to shame by walking his large muscular frame on his hands for the entire length of the gym. (Yes, you read that correctly.)
Jessica, an O.G. Krankster from one of those cities in New England (kidding, Boston) is one of the most consistent people I know. There she is, day in and day out, a living embodiment of Krank’s mantra: “Do work, son!” Like me, she’s also of Cape Verdean descent which often reminds me of our ancestors.
Strength, agility, and consistency. Afro and Latino. Togetherness and encouragement. All the qualities that I possess, represented through these legendary Kranksters. The Krank community had breathed life into me and awakened the finest characteristics of my being.
It was also around this time in 2014 that I began to see a therapist on a weekly basis.
Between the almost daily sessions at Krank and my weekly visits with my therapist, I had begun to transform my mind and body. The place where I could release stress, let out a roar, and embrace the sense of community that we social creatures crave. Krank had become my sanctuary, my temple.
In fact, it was in my workouts with Angel and Jamal that the moniker “Silverback” was born.
Then years later through my love of music, I would add “Soulful” to Silverback and here we are.
So you see Soulful Silverback was conceived during a time of holistic wellness in my life. As a result of that healthy foundation, Soulful Silverback represents the finest ideals of who I continually strive to be as a person. Krank is the temple where the Silverback defeats his personal Thanos (the devastating supervillain from Marvel’s Avengers series).
Over the last two years, I’ve allowed that inner Thanos to get the upper hand on me and I found myself yet again lost at sea.
Krank is a short 10-minute walk from my apartment and I had intentionally been avoiding that climb to the Acropolis of Brooklyn.
I had forgotten what the iron orchestra sounded like and I was embarrassed to return in the poor shape I was in.
But like Thor in Marvel’s latest “Avengers: Endgame” film, I had to remind myself that, “I’m still worthy.” (And if you’ve seen the film, I probably looked like him too)
My mind, body, and soul was yearning for a dip in the temple waters.
Then out of the blue, my phone was buzzing. It was a text from Jessica and two other Kranksters wondering where I had been.
Like the Hulk, they encouraged me to come back home to Krank. I got the sense that they missed the Silverback but more importantly, I missed them.
Weeks have passed since I returned to my temple atop the Acropolis of Brooklyn and oh how I have missed rumbling around this sanctuary.
As I was alluding to earlier, the discussions on the temple grounds of Krank are sometimes even better than the workouts themselves (if you can catch your breath).
They are discussions that would make any political pollster salivate. Discussions that express the soaring highs and the dark lows of the human experience. Discussions that center around the eternal principles of art, faith, justice, thought, and love.
They are topics, discussions, and stories that exemplify the storytelling tradition of our species. And in the backdrop, the drive that our species has to improve on what Leonardo da Vinci thought he perfected when he drew the Vitruvian Man.
Dan, Miguel, Angel, Jamal, Jessica, and countless other Kranksters are all central figures in my adventures atop the Acropolis of Brooklyn. They are the people who make Krank a special community to be a part of. It’s these interconnected bonds — a celebration of togetherness — that lures every Krankster back to sweat in that old storage facility.
These days as I take that rickety elevator to the 8th floor — those blue elevator doors slowly peel open and as I get closer to the temple grounds — I can hear the instruments of the iron orchestra get louder and louder.
I smile as I am reminded that there is healing in community, and together we go farther than we could alone.
Time to “Do work, son!” and be the hero of your own story.
