A Two Way Street

Throughout the course of this year I have become accustomed to the routine of blogging at the end of every week. In doing so, I have gained a wider perspective of our in-class discussions and the pieces we analyze. Most notably, have become much more personal. I associate them with personal experience and everyday life, in which I find that literature is a form of art that reveals the underlying meaning in the mundane. From the historical allusions of the Great Gatsby, to the modern and relatable essays such as Shooting Dad, blogging has become a form of reflecting the journey of life.
Although, most people would argue it is my chance to reveal my talent of ranting. Perhaps this is a sign I should not write my blogs when I am emotionally unstable. Who knows.
Be not just of failure but learn that time and development requires a set of patience accompanied by tolerance. My blogs reflect my growth and development throughout the course of 11 AP, and I have gained a greater understanding of myself in the process.
The beauty of sharing thoughts is not to undermine someone else’s but to expand upon your own and gain a wider range of perspective.
Although, I will admit I tend to take a narcissistic tone with my blogs and going into the mindset of “Pulitzer Prize Winner 2014”. If only.
Blogging is an opportunity to reflect on past, present, and future. It provides a leverage between then and now, and gives me a chance to stem into a higher understanding of life itself.

Blogging is a two way street between my development starting now and growth in the future. 

Put That On Your Applications

A room filled with important people dressed in expensive attire and business casual fashion crowd an already undersized table. None of them seem to notice their surroundings, their eyes remain glued to the paper work in front of them. An occasional mutter is heard, the sound of fingernails tapping against the desk, but the screech of a chair indicates for the room to silence. The head board of the school district stands up.

The aged face is layered with years of discipline. No kindness is hidden behind that face, only the cruel intentions of selfish gains. The beady eyes scan room, a sickening smirk encloses the hollow expression of the Board Administrator. "This school year is becoming more competitive", the Administrator begins. "Now we must focus on setting our standards higher. They're all becoming too qualified. Obviously they need harder classes. They won't learn to survive in college any other way".

The argument almost seems reasonable. Almost.

No one in the room dares to argue otherwise. They're all too busy examining their pay checks and opportunities to win "Teacher of the Year" Awards.

"They need to focus more on themselves. They're too competitive. They don't abide to the system, it's becoming a problem. A 36 ACT is no longer the standard. It's becoming too general. These kids are all identical. They have no value." The room becomes silent. No one was expecting Mr. Toranic to speak. Not even the Administrator was quick to respond, his eyes only squinted in a glare.

"And what? You think they'll survive by being friendly to one another? You and I both know the best of the best make it through hard work and hard work alone. They need to be competitive. It's Evolution".
Another reasonable argument. But Mr. Toranic rolled his eyes in response.

"You think they'll survive after making them paranoid and angry at each other? These kids are filled with potential, with passion. You're taking future leaders and breaking them down into average workers. This competition isn't going to allow them to grow. It makes them cold and empty. My students are barely awake in my classroom. Do you know why that is, Sir?"

The Administrator narrowed his eyes further, a hint of smile quirked at his lip, "Perhaps it is because they're too lazy."

Mr. Toranic smiled then. "No, Sir. It is because they're staying up trying to fill your unrealistic standards. There is not longer motivating students but overloading them. You're not helping these kids! This is no longer a school, this is becoming a business. Look at yourselves! You're so concerned with Union payments you don't care about how ridiculous these standards are. Not every student is going to go to Africa and build houses. No ever student is going win awards every single year at some club. Stop making them feel inadequate and teach them something!"
Toranic's voice was powerful, silencing the room entirely

The Administrator smiled through his weakened smirk. "And how do you expect these children to become leaders? Kindness gets you no where in life. And it certainly did not allow me to become the man I am today".

There was a glint in his eyes that spoke before he did.
"Education is not a competition. A leader is wise and passionate. They are not sugar-coated in varsity sports or high test scores. And the man you are today, does not fit the standards you are demanding. You are below average".

It was although time stopped for a moment, but Toranic was the one moving. The Administrator did not utter a word, only scared in disbelief at the Chemistry Teacher before him.

"Put that on your applications". And with that Mr. Toranic got up and left to finish lecturing his students about the importance of honesty.

Two Sides to the Spectrum

Humanity is not perfect.

It is due to this natural flaw that there are consequences to every positive potential, and vice versa.

Renounced scientists such as Madam Curie, Albert Einstein, and thousands of others, are known for their exemplifying contributions to the world. Yet, even their greatness has limits and a darker truth behind them.

Madam Curie, for example, is known for her work with radium. Upon her discovery, people found it to be extremely beneficial to science and even glamorized it in daily life. However, this discovery leads to a great tragedy when discovering her own ticket to fame is her killer. It is occurrences like this that result into limits and warning labels on products.

Humanity is flawed. 

We cannot legalize marijuana for the fact that the majority of society will/does abuse it. Self-control and discipline is still something we lack, especially in ourselves. If we cannot control the food portions we consume or our addiction to T.V. how can we be sure we will not abuse alcohol or drugs?

Sometimes the worst addictions are those we do not intend for.

Yet, the consequences of science is a metaphor for life. 

Darkness is only the absence of light. It does not exist, it is not a being. 

Yet, similarly to time, life is limited. Everything is limited. Hence the corporate capitalism and regulation of business, supply/demand, everything in life is limited. It is only due to our First World Success that a majority of us is ignorant to this limitation. 

To everything in life there is a Yin-Yang pattern. A dark side and a light side. One does not over come the other, but it is determined by it's maker which said is instigated. 

Life is free, it is boundless and self-proclaiming. Do not abuse or neglect it, simply adapt and discover, but maintain knowledge to avoid rude awakenings.

Puzzle Paragraph

Once upon a time, Florence Kelley delivered a speech to the National American Suffrage Association in Philadelphia; her words outline the values and rights everyone is entitled to, depicting the reality of gender equality. Throughout her speech, Kelley used varying styles of language to convey her purpose: rhetoric structure and parallels demonstrated her claim that women's suffrage was the key to solving the issue of child labor. For, as many works in literature claim, the connection a mother has to a child is the single bond that breaks or binds the challenges in life. Today, we have made a huge leap in overcoming the stigmas of sexism and inequality. Women are no longer the pink elephants in society, those who stand out and are unaccepted among the gray herd of males. Women were identifiable by their assumed weakness and demeanor. Using the argumental voice of Jesus, Kelley demanded that equality was the path for happiness and order in society. For, Kelley points out we are all children and the stigmas that confine others is inhumane.

I Am Not A Woman Of Color

"You are not a woman of color", those are the words that were uttered to me upon a debate regarding whether or not "White people" should be to blame for the stigmas society holds against each and everyone one of us.

Now, I will admit she was correct. I am, by definition, a white girl. There is no denying the flaw that is my Caucasian skin. The defining highlighter which dictates what everyone in society expects of me. Because as a white woman, how could I ever even begin to understand the oppressions others face?

A general rule of thumb:

You don’t need to bash skinny people to say that bigger people are beautiful.

You don’t need to bash men to promote women’s rights.

You don’t need to bash white people to promote racial equality.

You don’t need to bash a certain genre of music to promote another.

You don’t need to bash straight people to promote gay rights.

You don’t need to bash ANYONE or ANYTHING to advocate your opinion.

 Similarly to the piece we discussed this week in class, it is completely wrong to tie someone's identity to the color of their skin. Staple's own description of himself reveal the irony and ignorance of society. 

But as society we are taught to hate, assume, and accept. 

Therefore, you cannot blame the individual, but those who truly are at fault. The influences society places upon us is much greater than any of us believe it to be. 

The woman's assumption of Staples is offensive, but was she truly wrong to assume her right to her safety? Statistics and crime rates are facts, and in general--would a woman walking alone at night trust a stranger in her safety? Most of us wouldn't. To be fair, whether black or white, any race, we would all assume the right to our safety when a stereotypical threat (strong, large man) comes our way. 

Though, racism happens everyday, and it happens everywhere. If you're a white among whites, trust me they will find something to distinguish you from everyone else. Everyone wants to be different, everyone wants to stand out. So why do we try to hard to judge those who are true to themselves?

Everyone can be a "victim". But don't allow yourself to be the one who makes them the victim.

What Is a Parent?

Parent: An organism that produces or generates offspring.

Presented before you is the definition (found on Dictionary.com) of the word "parent". For most of us, a parent is a father and a mother. Yet, in other cases a parent is only one father or mother, sometimes those parents are step-parents, or adoptive parents. Sometimes a parent could be your own sibling. 

The word parent does no longer connotate to the biological production of it's nature in our modern society. Although there will never be a break between the tie of those who gave birth to you and to yourself, the emotional bond that we form between people is everlasting. 

I myself am grateful to have two loving and happily married parents. Yet, this doesn't take away the value or emotional tie that another child could have with their parent, whom of which doesn't have the same situation as mine. 

A parent is a provider, a protector, and without a doubt loves you unconditionally. Upon analyzing the essays, "Arm Wrestling with my Father" and "Shooting Dad", I realize that a parent does not define their child but a mutual understanding is formed between those that care for you your entire life.
Despite traditional standards or even modernized perspectives of what a parent should or should not do matters not when regarding the unexplainable connection between parent and child.
Though in many cases teenagers will roar in states of rebellion against their parents as "oppressors" and power-hungry dictators, a parent understands you in ways no one else will.

There is something...ominous about the way that a parent guides you through life using only their biased experiences. It's scary for them more than you'd think. Parenting doesn't come with a guide book or a "How-to" video. In many cases, parents want to continue to do better. Seek other ways to train you and optimize your future careers. And yes, parents are usually wrong in what they do. But their decisions aren't made out of spite (usually), and often times it's a game of mystery. Other times, parents truly do know what's best for you.

A parent is a person who relates to you in a way that isn't direct or even measured, but the simple understandings that are unspoken, and the bonds of trust that cannot be broken shape the relationship between parent and child.

The Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh (Extra Credit Poem)

Silenced by the darkness of the night,
not a single soul stirs in the calm twilight.
And yet, as the sun dies down,
and the world comes still,
there is no threatening alarm in this quiet wake.
The cool air pleasantly burns the skin of those wandering the empty streets,
and the swirling winds send wafts of old rain and the lilies nearby.
It is quiet.
It is calm.
A shade of blue blurs across the land,
and everything becomes one.
You cannot see,
you may even think you are deaf,
but the tranquility the nighttime brings,
carries you the peace to lie in bed and mull over the day.
Here you may question,
here you may speak without moving your lips.
Here you may breathe from the business that life brings.
It is timeless here,
unlike there where the business of life doesn't let you stop.
But no.
This is safe.
This is fresh.
Your eyelids flutter closed,
and your heart rate begins to slow.
Drowsiness overtakes you,
and the dreams play a pattern of random in your mind.
Nothing disturbs you.
Not even the owl perched outside your bedroom window.
For, the night sky is dark,
and not a soul is stirring.
Here you are safe.
Here you are secure.

Alas dawn awakes the night sky,
the sun speaks hello and the neighbors prepare for their day.
The silence is replaced with deafening sound.
Oh! Do not fret,
for the cycle will repeat itself once again.

Happiness Takes Effort

Upon reflecting the negative aspects of some of the stories we've covered in class concerning corruption and society I've come to some discoveries of my own. When I hear people say, "I'll be happy when I get this job, or this boyfriend, or graduate, etc." it makes everyday life seem tedious and sells present time as short. Life becomes a marathon of force and patience, instead of a series of sprints toward discovery.  Yet, ironically we are the true "stop watchers" in ourselves and we are in control. We don't have to wait for something to happen or magically show up to make us happy--when you find beauty in the mundane you can find happiness in your simplicity.

Not everyone is going to live extravagant lives filled with the drama or glamour of movies, and there's nothing wrong with that.  Life will always be average and it will be hard; and yes you will have to work to get somewhere. And the point of life is not to get the "best" of whatever society views as ideal, but instead to find the beauty in average that everyone refuses to believe exists.

When good things happen in life they are usually going to happen because you earned them, and not because "Prince Charming" or some magical event happened to grant you your temporary shot of joy. Because when you directly associate happiness to materialism and standards of other people, you'll never fulfill them and never gain the happiness you deserve.

Everyday is not going to be perfect. Most of the people you meet won't actually give a damn (excuse my profanity) about you, and most of the things you encounter in everyday life will be...well just plain average. But when you only focus on the average or the mundane, you won't see the beauty or happiness right in front of you. The thing about positive "energy" or perspective is that it feeds off of itself and spreads outward. Just like hard work, if you do something often times you'll gain what you worked for.

Stop waiting and go out and find something. If you live your life in fear of failure, you will forget to live. Who cares what other people think. One person's definition of smart or successful does not always correlate with someone else's. And even so, only your own connotation matters.
Find beauty in the mundane.

"Perhaps I want them to wince"

Upon reflecting over Nancy Maris' piece, I have succumbed to the conclusion that labeling is not a limitation but instead another form of identification. As though our own acceptance or rejection of who we are stifles the perspective of society.

Throughout our earlier readings characters such as Jay Gatsby, Dexter Green, and even Alexie Sherman have all attempted to assimilate themselves into an already rejecting society; and thus ultimately resulting into a cycle of failure. And yet, Mairs demonstrates the positive aspect of rejecting her community and forming her own--in which only her opinion and perspective matters.

There's something magical about starting your own life; making your own choices. Something most of us lack, a courage to seek what we've lost or not yet found.

Perhaps we all wish to start over, and begin anew. Perhaps "I want them to wince".

Where is my voice?

Upon reflecting of my past essays, I have realized that despite this stressful road of assignments and due dates, my writing has improved greatly. Looking back, my writing was chaotic and just plain confusing. Majority of my sentences contained fragments, and don't even get me started on my incorrect usage of the semi-colon. Although even now, I understand that I have an even bigger journey ahead of me. 

Now my writing overall is not terrible, in fact throughout my middle school and early high school years, my teachers praised my essays; I was the star student. This was back when we had a freedom of writing. Typically, I prefer to write in a poetic voice; an outlining depiction of Edgar Allan Poe or Mark Twain. I enjoy using extensive vocabulary that allow my sentences to flow. It's almost as though I can picture the words floating off the page into a sea of stories; which eventually evaporates into the clouds and the cycle only continues to spread  But I quickly learned that my style of writing wasn't fit for AP courses. It was "too fluffy", not direct to the point, and often times the teachers I had simply hated imagination or style in essays. Needless to say, my 8th grade teacher killed my entire dream of wanting to be an author. I didn't care about getting marked down for "fragments" or grammar mistakes; I am a writer and writing is my control--I didn't understand why I should conform myself to a grading scale and limit my voice. And as a result, I lost my passion--which was my talent. In which case, my writing progressively diminished in quality. Now not to say that I was a perfect writer back then, I made several mistakes, but if I hadn't given up on my style a few years ago, I know I'd enjoy writing more than I do now. 

Though, I have come to the conclusion that I like how far I have in my academic journey of writing; it has most significantly improved. Although, I still need to work on in-class writing anxiety; often I will blank out during an essay and my writing turns into absolute garbage. But I have slowly improved on this skill. 
My main goal is to improve my essays to a 9 average marking, though I wouldn't mind getting back my dream of being an author again.