Ski Bum Seeks Trust Fund
Donation protected
- Why I am asking for money. This plea for money comes to you after several life changing events that have happened in the last months. 1) New England has been slammed relentlessly with FEET of powder unlike any Winter prior. 2) Skiing has been amazing and has not stopped being amazing since late February. 3) I crashed my car on the way home from work one night in a fit of rage and could have easily gotten hurt but didn't. 4) Lost my second job on Christmas for driving up an exit ramp because there was a car across the entrance ramp during a blizzard... So I've been adjusting to new means to get ski tickets, like relying on my countless friends who have voucher tickets to get a free day on hill. 5) I had yet again another great season coaching skiing for the Highschool I went to and realized how happy I am doing the things I love. 6) A good friend showed me his backyard which has upwards of 100 acres of cleared skiable terrain with clifs and jumps, drops and rollers, which inspired me to make an Instagram page dedicated to my outdoors lifestyle. Which includes: skiing, white water rafting, kayaking, mountain biking, camping, hiking and more! Essentially, just making this as a joke but if you do sense the brevity of my circumstances and wish to toss $5 to help with gas money or maybe a fresh set of socks, that'd be much appreciated. And I promise to continue making ski videos for you and everyone's entertainment. Follow my Instagram page to keep up with more recent/smaller projects, and even possible pop-up events such as rail jams or ride-alongs. I'm always looking for people to join my adventures. - @Clifhucks_andtables
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- How I got here... Hello, and Thank you for your time. I am Jasper Kearsley, one of few people who grew up in my area without a dynamic family setting. My mother was left my by father before I was born for whatever reason there may be. Growing up, my mother and I moved from house to house, apartment to apartment. - And though that is a form of instability and uncertainty, I was certain my mother was giving me the best she could and all she could. I learned to play, and smile, laugh and love at a young age. In fact, so young I don't even remember my first moments with my first love... Skiing. My mother, attending Art School in Boston and her boyfriend (at the time), being a "stay at home dad", took care of myself and his nephew. Needless to say, we all came together to provide what we couldn't have separately, I had a father figure, my mother was a mother figure. I had a brother for the time being as well. At the age of 8 that relationship ended, but we stayed in contact. My mother and I lived in a Cabin on a dead end, dirt road in the Hills of Western Massachusetts. We had our last set of big snow storms around this time... (2003/2004) By then I had been skiing for nearly 7 years. My mother was going through the process of making sure when I changed schools that I'd still be able to ski. This is where my life changes. I switched schools for my first time, though we had moved houses before, this was new to me. New faces, names and attitudes all awaited me. I was the only child in the school of African American descent who was neither adopted nor mentally challenged. So I guess my classmates thought that made me special. They weren't used to a Black kid who listened to Jimi Hendrix, quoted Mohammed Ali, and knew that Black History month was going to all of a sudden be EVEN MORE focused on seeing as I wasn't THE TOKEN Black kid they were looking for. I spoke up when spoken against. I caused a ruckus. I brought books for each student in my class on February 1st called "And Don't call Me a Racist!", written by Ella Mazel; a collection of famous quotes, poems and historic writing regarding the state of American heritage/lineage and cultural mixing. Mind you, this is 4th Grade... I'm 9/10 years old. Moving on. That year was my first to experience actual misrepresentation of discomfort regarding race. One of my classmates actually read the book and had good things to say. The rest, maybe cracked it open and scanned a few lines only to laugh (hopefully uncomfortably) at the "N Word", written out in some of the poems and quotes. I wasn't questioned by the classmates as to what this all meant... They reacted, simply. Often I heard, "I have a black cousin, I don't think I need to read this, there's no way I'm racist", said most of my classmates who wore Fox Sports clothing, and had Chippewa boots. Or "yeah but the flag doesn't stand for racism"... I'm sure it doesn't to you. I began finding myself farther and farther outcast by my classmates. My mother fell ill with pneumonia, and only with the help of her New Boyfriend who had been with her for almost two years, were we able to keep our bills paid. But alas, spring came and we were reading another eviction notice. Mom asked the family for financial help regarding me and my welfare and hardly ever would take a penny towards her own benefit. She still claims that I am her greatest and longest worked on masterpiece. And though it may sound vain, I couldn't agree more. She asked the family for $2,200 to send me away to a Sleep-away Nature camp in Northern Vermont, called Night Eagle. A truly life changing moment. We slept in teepees and did day hikes, tracking, archery, arts and crafts with nature. But also, survival skills training, like rolling a capsized canoe. Starting a fire 100% from raw material found in nature, building shelter's and even finding peace in a spiritual aspect within nature. Upon return I met some friends at my new school, arriving to class a week late, as if being new wasn't enough pressure. 5th grade. My mom makes the choice to find stable winter work as a Ski instructor at a neighboring Ski resort, 40 miles North. With new terrain available and my mom often leaving for work before I left for school, a new chapter had started, I begin defining myself. Known snow days and even 2 hour delays meant I'd be attending Classes at the Mountain, in Ski School. My school bus left from my house before the sun had risen, and would often return after the sun set. A longer day than my usual school day, also more beneficial to my mental state. My teachers, any ski instructor that I chose to ski with, other than my mom, as to not be a distraction. This was my favorite class, and you will soon find out why. 5th grade was a breeze, I had some hiccups regarding classmates. Like, the time I stuck up for a chubby kid because he was being bullied by 6th graders, and I got in a fist fight sticking up for the helpless kid. I had my first real sense of desire to know someone, and first crushing moment of finding they had 0 interest. But all that is part of life. Choose your battles wisely. 6th grade. Mom's job at the mountain was proving stable and she had dreamed for years to move to VT. We moved to Whitingham, (if you laughed, I applaud you). I thought the Fox Sports Hats and shirts that had Eagles tearing through American flags was enough for one lifetime... I now was in yet again, a new school. This one, 6th grade was the entry year for Middle School, so I was mixing with a whole new age group, and none of us got along. Everyone had a clique, we had a principal who was openly gay and hardly anyone gave him respect. Especially because if you did give him respect, "You must have been gay too" according to their elementary reasoning skills. I eventually had my mother remove me from the spring semester and "home-school" me after constant threats and other forms of racial abuse from my classmates. I had been held against a locker and spit on multiple times, and names need not be repeated. I skied this entire Spring until my mom came up with the idea to have me live with my Grandma for a while and stay with a close Family Friend. I re-entered a public school in Massachusetts for the last 22 days of school in order to receive a 6th grade graduation slip. 7 of those days I spent in an empty classroom doing 2 months of missed assignments while the rest of the class went on a school trip to Boston for that time. (I never got to go on any school trip due to changing schools so often.) 7th grade and beyond. 2007/2008, Kanye West was played in 90% of my peers iPods while I was still carrying around a Walkman made by Sony, and my playlist largely was Arrested Development, Public Enemy, Jurassic 5, Aretha Franklin, Janis Joplin, amoungst the rest of the great artists that I'm sure half of those peers still have never heard of. I dyed my hair purple and at the time I had over 18 inches of hair, commonly worn in a "fro", or at least the closest thing to a "fro" any of my peers had seen... For this, I stuck out and likely, not in the way that happy teens with wild hair colors and florescent clothes should stick out. I was in my head and jaded. My grades fell as I continued to experience real misrepresentation of discomfort regarding race and now, expression of self. Peers and teachers thought I was Gay, and I had conversations with the principal regarding outbursts in class speaking against the whispers and laughs I always hear from behind me. "I can't see around his hair" "Guys don't have hair that long" "Throw this gum wrapper in his hair, he won't even feel it". -Was becoming all too common, I was comfortable being picked on now. I moved on again, to a private school. With greater chances of being understood by my peers and being able to communicate on a similar level of comfortability with them. This was where I missed my possible Vocation. 90% of alumns graduated and sought higher education within one year completing their senior year. I guess I'll nip this one in the bud and say, I had a friend die in a ski accident during midterms week and I skipped all of my midterms and never fully made them up. I became farther depressed than I ever had before and wished to just ski in the pursuit of happiness. Along with that, my mother had just broken up with her boyfriend from my second half of childhood into my teens. It seemed as though everything that was constant was now falling apart. ( I had two jobs at the time already as well, age 16, and was primarily working to try and balance the lack of a "man of the house" or a "second earners income". ) I left the Private school, and my greatest chance at attending college without CrowdFunding or a Trust Fund from family in the back of my mind and went back to the Local Regional High School for one year before dropping out. - (Due to grades falling after my friends death and other complications.) 11th grade, I'm leaving the school doors knowing I won't return... But not knowing what that meant entirely. I worked my summer job and sought ways to get my GED and find a few Fall classes at the nearest Community College. After completing a Student ambassador course, a Digital photography class, and the Program to attain my GED, I found myself needing money, as most of my time wasn't taken up 7:30am-2:30pm any longer. 2012 I picked up a second schedule at my job, after working in the Retail shop of a White Water Outfitters Shop, I became a guide on their Rafting trips and also helped with the after school Kayak program. And then picked up a third schedule in a pizza shop. 2013 After working hard for a year and living with my mother, I decided I would move out the following spring and start working towards my developing my own life. After a failed attempt to move to Colorado soon after, I found myself couch surfing through the fall, and eventually find a spare room to live in for the winter at a friend's house. I had jobs waiting for me, so I did have income, saved up and paid for my mom's old beater Volvo from '92 with 400,000 miles on it to be fixed. - My first car. Years have passed of me just doing the same thing to get by. Working hard and often doing things I don't even like. Currently I still hold good terms with my first employers, so I'll be lucky enough to be Guiding rafts again once all this snow melts. And I also am now the Alpine Ski Team coach for the private school that I attended, which is a mere 2 month gig, though it could totally last longer if we were able to work around the prioritized credentials in an academic setting. These are my dream jobs and I plan to hold true to myself by not letting them go unless I see it being beneficial. But as I look at it now, these jobs have saved my life. Without them I would lack mental contentment and would find myself suffering from extreme depression. "I live to share experience, -And experience lives to share with all." As you may have found while reading this, I am not illiterate. I am not simple minded. I am confident in myself and knowing who I am and what I want out of this life, and that shows that I am more in touch with myself than a lot of kids thrown into college because their parents forced it upon them. I can tell you one thing... If I had someone shoving $60k down my throat to try and give me a good solid ground to stand on, I'd be chewing as fast as I could. I'm not declaring I deserve anything that I DON'T have. I'm not declaring that people don't deserve things they DO have. I am simply declaring that I know what I want and I will find a way to get it, if you find that inspirational, or possibly deserving of a helping hand, than please feel free to even send $5 my way to get me 20 miles down the road to the ski hill and back.
_
- How I got here... Hello, and Thank you for your time. I am Jasper Kearsley, one of few people who grew up in my area without a dynamic family setting. My mother was left my by father before I was born for whatever reason there may be. Growing up, my mother and I moved from house to house, apartment to apartment. - And though that is a form of instability and uncertainty, I was certain my mother was giving me the best she could and all she could. I learned to play, and smile, laugh and love at a young age. In fact, so young I don't even remember my first moments with my first love... Skiing. My mother, attending Art School in Boston and her boyfriend (at the time), being a "stay at home dad", took care of myself and his nephew. Needless to say, we all came together to provide what we couldn't have separately, I had a father figure, my mother was a mother figure. I had a brother for the time being as well. At the age of 8 that relationship ended, but we stayed in contact. My mother and I lived in a Cabin on a dead end, dirt road in the Hills of Western Massachusetts. We had our last set of big snow storms around this time... (2003/2004) By then I had been skiing for nearly 7 years. My mother was going through the process of making sure when I changed schools that I'd still be able to ski. This is where my life changes. I switched schools for my first time, though we had moved houses before, this was new to me. New faces, names and attitudes all awaited me. I was the only child in the school of African American descent who was neither adopted nor mentally challenged. So I guess my classmates thought that made me special. They weren't used to a Black kid who listened to Jimi Hendrix, quoted Mohammed Ali, and knew that Black History month was going to all of a sudden be EVEN MORE focused on seeing as I wasn't THE TOKEN Black kid they were looking for. I spoke up when spoken against. I caused a ruckus. I brought books for each student in my class on February 1st called "And Don't call Me a Racist!", written by Ella Mazel; a collection of famous quotes, poems and historic writing regarding the state of American heritage/lineage and cultural mixing. Mind you, this is 4th Grade... I'm 9/10 years old. Moving on. That year was my first to experience actual misrepresentation of discomfort regarding race. One of my classmates actually read the book and had good things to say. The rest, maybe cracked it open and scanned a few lines only to laugh (hopefully uncomfortably) at the "N Word", written out in some of the poems and quotes. I wasn't questioned by the classmates as to what this all meant... They reacted, simply. Often I heard, "I have a black cousin, I don't think I need to read this, there's no way I'm racist", said most of my classmates who wore Fox Sports clothing, and had Chippewa boots. Or "yeah but the flag doesn't stand for racism"... I'm sure it doesn't to you. I began finding myself farther and farther outcast by my classmates. My mother fell ill with pneumonia, and only with the help of her New Boyfriend who had been with her for almost two years, were we able to keep our bills paid. But alas, spring came and we were reading another eviction notice. Mom asked the family for financial help regarding me and my welfare and hardly ever would take a penny towards her own benefit. She still claims that I am her greatest and longest worked on masterpiece. And though it may sound vain, I couldn't agree more. She asked the family for $2,200 to send me away to a Sleep-away Nature camp in Northern Vermont, called Night Eagle. A truly life changing moment. We slept in teepees and did day hikes, tracking, archery, arts and crafts with nature. But also, survival skills training, like rolling a capsized canoe. Starting a fire 100% from raw material found in nature, building shelter's and even finding peace in a spiritual aspect within nature. Upon return I met some friends at my new school, arriving to class a week late, as if being new wasn't enough pressure. 5th grade. My mom makes the choice to find stable winter work as a Ski instructor at a neighboring Ski resort, 40 miles North. With new terrain available and my mom often leaving for work before I left for school, a new chapter had started, I begin defining myself. Known snow days and even 2 hour delays meant I'd be attending Classes at the Mountain, in Ski School. My school bus left from my house before the sun had risen, and would often return after the sun set. A longer day than my usual school day, also more beneficial to my mental state. My teachers, any ski instructor that I chose to ski with, other than my mom, as to not be a distraction. This was my favorite class, and you will soon find out why. 5th grade was a breeze, I had some hiccups regarding classmates. Like, the time I stuck up for a chubby kid because he was being bullied by 6th graders, and I got in a fist fight sticking up for the helpless kid. I had my first real sense of desire to know someone, and first crushing moment of finding they had 0 interest. But all that is part of life. Choose your battles wisely. 6th grade. Mom's job at the mountain was proving stable and she had dreamed for years to move to VT. We moved to Whitingham, (if you laughed, I applaud you). I thought the Fox Sports Hats and shirts that had Eagles tearing through American flags was enough for one lifetime... I now was in yet again, a new school. This one, 6th grade was the entry year for Middle School, so I was mixing with a whole new age group, and none of us got along. Everyone had a clique, we had a principal who was openly gay and hardly anyone gave him respect. Especially because if you did give him respect, "You must have been gay too" according to their elementary reasoning skills. I eventually had my mother remove me from the spring semester and "home-school" me after constant threats and other forms of racial abuse from my classmates. I had been held against a locker and spit on multiple times, and names need not be repeated. I skied this entire Spring until my mom came up with the idea to have me live with my Grandma for a while and stay with a close Family Friend. I re-entered a public school in Massachusetts for the last 22 days of school in order to receive a 6th grade graduation slip. 7 of those days I spent in an empty classroom doing 2 months of missed assignments while the rest of the class went on a school trip to Boston for that time. (I never got to go on any school trip due to changing schools so often.) 7th grade and beyond. 2007/2008, Kanye West was played in 90% of my peers iPods while I was still carrying around a Walkman made by Sony, and my playlist largely was Arrested Development, Public Enemy, Jurassic 5, Aretha Franklin, Janis Joplin, amoungst the rest of the great artists that I'm sure half of those peers still have never heard of. I dyed my hair purple and at the time I had over 18 inches of hair, commonly worn in a "fro", or at least the closest thing to a "fro" any of my peers had seen... For this, I stuck out and likely, not in the way that happy teens with wild hair colors and florescent clothes should stick out. I was in my head and jaded. My grades fell as I continued to experience real misrepresentation of discomfort regarding race and now, expression of self. Peers and teachers thought I was Gay, and I had conversations with the principal regarding outbursts in class speaking against the whispers and laughs I always hear from behind me. "I can't see around his hair" "Guys don't have hair that long" "Throw this gum wrapper in his hair, he won't even feel it". -Was becoming all too common, I was comfortable being picked on now. I moved on again, to a private school. With greater chances of being understood by my peers and being able to communicate on a similar level of comfortability with them. This was where I missed my possible Vocation. 90% of alumns graduated and sought higher education within one year completing their senior year. I guess I'll nip this one in the bud and say, I had a friend die in a ski accident during midterms week and I skipped all of my midterms and never fully made them up. I became farther depressed than I ever had before and wished to just ski in the pursuit of happiness. Along with that, my mother had just broken up with her boyfriend from my second half of childhood into my teens. It seemed as though everything that was constant was now falling apart. ( I had two jobs at the time already as well, age 16, and was primarily working to try and balance the lack of a "man of the house" or a "second earners income". ) I left the Private school, and my greatest chance at attending college without CrowdFunding or a Trust Fund from family in the back of my mind and went back to the Local Regional High School for one year before dropping out. - (Due to grades falling after my friends death and other complications.) 11th grade, I'm leaving the school doors knowing I won't return... But not knowing what that meant entirely. I worked my summer job and sought ways to get my GED and find a few Fall classes at the nearest Community College. After completing a Student ambassador course, a Digital photography class, and the Program to attain my GED, I found myself needing money, as most of my time wasn't taken up 7:30am-2:30pm any longer. 2012 I picked up a second schedule at my job, after working in the Retail shop of a White Water Outfitters Shop, I became a guide on their Rafting trips and also helped with the after school Kayak program. And then picked up a third schedule in a pizza shop. 2013 After working hard for a year and living with my mother, I decided I would move out the following spring and start working towards my developing my own life. After a failed attempt to move to Colorado soon after, I found myself couch surfing through the fall, and eventually find a spare room to live in for the winter at a friend's house. I had jobs waiting for me, so I did have income, saved up and paid for my mom's old beater Volvo from '92 with 400,000 miles on it to be fixed. - My first car. Years have passed of me just doing the same thing to get by. Working hard and often doing things I don't even like. Currently I still hold good terms with my first employers, so I'll be lucky enough to be Guiding rafts again once all this snow melts. And I also am now the Alpine Ski Team coach for the private school that I attended, which is a mere 2 month gig, though it could totally last longer if we were able to work around the prioritized credentials in an academic setting. These are my dream jobs and I plan to hold true to myself by not letting them go unless I see it being beneficial. But as I look at it now, these jobs have saved my life. Without them I would lack mental contentment and would find myself suffering from extreme depression. "I live to share experience, -And experience lives to share with all." As you may have found while reading this, I am not illiterate. I am not simple minded. I am confident in myself and knowing who I am and what I want out of this life, and that shows that I am more in touch with myself than a lot of kids thrown into college because their parents forced it upon them. I can tell you one thing... If I had someone shoving $60k down my throat to try and give me a good solid ground to stand on, I'd be chewing as fast as I could. I'm not declaring I deserve anything that I DON'T have. I'm not declaring that people don't deserve things they DO have. I am simply declaring that I know what I want and I will find a way to get it, if you find that inspirational, or possibly deserving of a helping hand, than please feel free to even send $5 my way to get me 20 miles down the road to the ski hill and back.
Organizer
Jasper Z Kearsley
Organizer
Shelburne, MA
