Written by scott zeilenga Monday, 08 February 2010 00:00
During the summer of my junior year in high school I attended a week long art camp at Denver Art Institute. It was supposed to be one of those once in a lifetime, career charting experiences, but I remember practically nothing about it. The only thing I recollect is the last day; the closing ceremonies party. About twenty-five of us were gathered in a parking lot behind one of the buildings enjoying the outdoors, the Denver skyline, the complimentary snacks and a live DJ spinning top-40 under a tent in back. I was watching the DJ. He was thoroughly enjoying his craft even though no one in our little crowd was paying much attention to him. He was mainly mixing for himself. At one point he picked up a record, smiled at no one in particular and placed it on his turntable. Then, as if everyone suddenly noticed there was music playing, people started dancing. It was an up-beat song: a four-on-the-floor kick, a euro-dance synth, and a bouncy female vocal singing something in Spanish. The groove was catchy and our group loved it. One of the students leaned over to me and answered my unspoken question, “It's called the Macarena.”

This article is not an official article written by the police or the news, it is written from personal experience from someone who has seen more in this world than I would hope most others have. It is also written not just for this generation but for the next, the generation where kids bring weapons to school and murder each other on city streets. This is for you, kids, because I was one of you once, and I remember growing up in a confusing world and trying to keep my head screwed on straight. I would read the book of Proverbs because I found it pointed out a lot of wisdom and direction for a kid trying to grow up in a world by myself with no real authority at the time and terrible role models. I found God is faithful when no one else can be found or trusted. Even if He sometimes comes through for me at the very last minute, literally at one second to midnight.
In September 2000 The Christian Herald published an article that began with this statement: "This past summer, Toronto's mayor, city counselors and law enforcement officers debated how to clean up the city¹s rave scene. A group of Christians are one step ahead of them, throwing dance parties with no drugs, no weapons, no drinking, no smoking, no sexually provocative clothing and no one being wheeled out on a stretcher." We didn't just not invite drug dealers and gangs in - we actively kept them out.