When I was born, my mother delivered a smooth innocent babe that was about to be molded like a piece of clay to form a creation that equated pure art. The beauty of birth is the newness of thy own skin, unscathed, no scratches, abrasions, just smooth skin that had the softness of an Alpaca lambskin rug.

I’m quite sure no mother has visions of their child growing up to select body art as if they were choosing a Christian Audigier hoody with a matching hat. The items of clothing versus the body art or tattoos were like comparing apples to oranges. These were pieces of clothing that could be easily removed, and replaced with another ensemble that would or could be fashionably appropriate. Whereas the body art was colorful, brash, obnoxious, stereotypic, cheap, permanent, and similar to the mark of a branding iron.

What goes through the mind of a student who has had the luscious opportunity to be selected to attend their college of choice, to gain an education that will allow them to be self-sufficient, when they make a decision that may or is highly likely to be deleterious to their prospective employment? Honestly, the first thought that crosses my mind when I see a student with tattoos, I could care less if it’s a heart or barbed wire, it’s an insignificant thought of self when they can choose to adorn themselves with ink that is permanent… Read The Full Article Here