Altered Happiness

As I scroll through my camera roll, I stumble upon a photo of me smiling…

I’m…

**GASP**

Happy?!?!

Yes yes, our childhood is remembered by us as “the good old times.” We’re laughing on the playground with our friends; we have chocolate all over our mouths from when we actually ate unhealthy foods and

**ANOTHER GASP**

didn’t feel the need to suck in our stomachs afterwards.

The very cliché statement of “a picture is worth 1000 words” is indeed true, as it offers our brains a path to the past, almost like time travel, where we can reminiscent the moments we miss so dearly. The moments where only our happiness is what mattered.

True happiness… have we totally forgotten about that? Let me talk about one example of an app that has taken over part of this concept by pictures: Instagram. However, they’re not just any pictures; rather, they’re edited ones. From a specific filter, to lighting, to whatever technology one can use to fix their “facial imperfections,” photos have been changed for the worse. It’s like adding a filter literally adds a filter into the picture, hiding its critical elements and modifying the entire meaning behind what it was originally intended for.

Why do we feel the need to cover every single one of our imperfections, or at least, what we think are imperfections? What Sontag insists is indeed correct: “Industrial societies turn their citizens into image-junkies; it is the most irresistible form of mental pollution.”

 We have evolved into a society where if there’s a pimple on our face in a picture, then the whole world will go mad. Yeah, I know changing a picture up a bit won’t totally make you forget what happened when it was taken, but it does indeed conceal originality and what makes us human.

So, as I scroll down my camera roll, the pictures continue to get faker and faker. It’s unfortunate that I can differ between each year I have been alive because of how each year, we can manipulate these images more and more. I look back and laugh at when I was a kid, when the nonsense we care about today didn’t matter to me. When I was singing my heart out and didn’t care who my mom sent the video to. When I didn’t even have Instagram or Snapchat to refer to.

Ahh, yes… the good old days. If only these days could’ve prevailed.

Izzy for VP ;)

I am in a constant battle between myself and my own doubt.

I think everyone is smarter than me, so if someone ever tries to prove me wrong, I believe them.

I think everyone is better than me, so when I’m playing soccer and someone screams “ball,” “Izzy pass to me,” “mark her,” I freak out and automatically try to listen, because they obviously know what they’re doing and I just don’t.

I think everyone else knows what’s best, so I constantly ask for others’ opinions. This past week I had to make an NHS video as to why I would be a good vice president, and I ended up making SIX different videos based on what my peers’ opinions were, just to choose the first… the one that I wanted.

The thing is, every single time I have doubt and someone tries to prove me wrong, I’m actually the one that’s right. Or when someone tells me to “pass the ball” or whatever, I had something way better in mind that could have brought us a goal, but that split second of doubt caused me to rethink my actions.

This past week, a girl was sobbing on my soccer team; yet, no one else even noticed or bothered to care, and some of the girls were even talking trash about her. I stepped up, and even though I was supposed to be somewhere right after practice, I stayed to talk to her and tried to help deal with what she was going through, but what she said at the end is what made me truly realize that I would make a hella amazing vice president… when she said, “I would vote for you if I could, because I’ve never seen anyone that’s cared more.”  

This week has honestly been a struggle, as I’ve been trying to decide what to run for, how to make a video, how to campaign; but it has also taught me something: to listen to my OWN heart, my OWN mind, and whatever I THINK is best.

DON’T DOUBT YOURSELF. That’s the best advice I can give you. Go with what your heart is telling you…. listen to your gut, because if you don’t, you’ll constantly be fighting your mind.

Everyone has doubt, and it’s because we strive for perfection every single day, hoping to magically obtain this concept and dodge all mistakes; I hate to break it to ya, but that’s just impossible. So even if I lose this vp thing, yeah it would suck, but I will know that I tried my very best—it’s not me who would make a bad vp at all, everyone else is just going to have to deal with the unfortunate loss, because they will be missing out on an outstanding leader.

So it turns out that the “technologies that undo [our] capacities to think” are actually our fellow peers and the people who surround us--stop doubting yourself, there’s no need. Doubt will only bring you down in the world. It will mentally change your ability to think for yourself. Just do what you want to do, and I promise that you won’t regret it.

Call me Izzy

We all have a designated name assigned to ourselves right from when we were born. We had no choice as to what we would be called for the rest of our lives, we simply had to comply to whatever our parents desired to identify us with. I mean, I guess that’s what still happens, right? We listen to our parents’ commands because it’s just a natural, humanistic thing to do.

This is extremely similar to the whole “substitution of words” scenario. I honestly couldn’t tell you who came up with “words” in the first place, but what I can indeed say is that our ancestors didn’t just piece together random letters and BAM—words. There absolutely was significance to eat word, phrase, and sentence they conjured up.

So, my question is, why take away the true definition of each word? Even the slightest change to one can cause an immense effect toward its meaning. For instance, altering the word “stupid” to become “exceptional” would just be absurd (Kakutani 764). Take a look at how Google defines each:

Stupid- having or showing a great lack of intelligence or common sense

Exceptional- unusually good; outstanding

Ummmm WHATTT?! How could we possibly substitute these words when they have no correlation whatsoever to each other?!

Additionally, modifying “Santa Clause” to “Belfana” may satisfy women, but anger men or children who have always grown up to know the name, or even religious folks, since Santa Clause was created in the spirit of St. Nicholas (Kakutani 763).

So, revising words isn’t going to fix prejudice in the world or cease sexism, racism, etc. There are always going to be people that object, and we cannot satisfy everyone’s needs—that would simply be impossible.

 All that we are accomplishing here is taking away the true definition of words and what makes each unique, and when it comes to this extent, we’re destroying how “Plain English” came to be. We are killing our history, letter by letter, and sooner or later we’re gonna need to rewrite the dictionary.

And relating all this back to the whole parents thing—we must follow our ancestors’ creations, whether we like it or not. They provided us with the communication we have today and gave us what makes us different compared to other species. Even though we don’t get to choose our name or how words are defined, we still cannot mess with the nature of it. We must live our lives in the path destined for us, and sooner or later we will receive the reward of naming our own children; we will finally have the power to make our own rules, but until that day, we must comply and live how nature desires us to…. so just don’t mess with it.

Stop Looking Down

Ok, so recently I’ve noticed that people are in it all for themselves. This past week, we chose our soccer captains, and as I looked around, everyone… and I mean EVERY SINGLE PERSON around me voted for themselves. Every. Single. One. I was shocked, but honestly not really… cause this is how our society runs these days.

Why is it that in our minds, we are the center of the universe? We constantly look down to people as our inferiors, as if from birth we enter a competition to be better than the person next to us. 

And not only toward other people, but a variety of other species as well. A homework question assigned to us this week regarding “The Death of a Moth” asked us why the author would talk about something as “insignificant as a moth's death?” Just from this question, it is obvious that moths aren’t considered anywhere near as important as human beings. WHY is this so? WHY do we give ourselves a greater title over this species? Because they’re "so small" (Woolf)? Not like us (which they are, read the piece for more info on that)? Don’t have a direct influence on us? Because if these are what our reasonings have come to, we MUST put them to rest.

Firsts of all, to all of you who think moths don’t benefit us… you’re 100,000% wrong, Moths actually pollinate our plants, hence, give us food. 

My point in providing this information, I want to prove how the things that we may think are insignificant to our lives are actually beneficial; yet, we fail to understand or even try to acknowledge that. Instead, we simply kill animals for our own benefits, cause apparently what they already do is not good enough for us. And now I come upon my second point—relating this back to our interactions with each other. We treat others as dumb or incompetent compared to ourselves, and how we deserve more than them. In reality, no matter how much we may think we know about others, we truly don’t know each one of their life stories, so we cannot automatically place ourselves on a higher hierarchy. We need to care about others just as we do for ourselves and to put them over own basic needs and desires, because in the end, the only thing that matters is the relationships you’ve with others and the impact you’ve created—not that you were the smartest in your class or the most popular kid in school. The only thing these “accomplishments” do is make you feel better about YOURSELF… but it is unfair to take your successes and degrade someone else for it. 

So, to end what I’m trying to say, I’m going to repeat my main point once more—it is ESSENTIAL that we look at others the same way we view ourselves. This way, inferiority and superiority will be nonexistent, and hopefully it will make society become less judgmental, because no one deserves to be looked upon with disapproval.

Going back to the soccer captain phenomenon… to all the people that voted for themselves, I ask you: what truly constituents an extraordinary captain? First, a true captain would definitely not vote for themselves when it comes to it, because if you were truly meant to be a captain, your own vote is "useless" (Woolf), and your teammates are the ultimate decision makers… you know… the people who AREN’T inferior to you and have just as much a chance to become captain.

A Simple Solution

Troy High School: A jungle consisting of only the fastest and slowest—there’s no in between. 

You’re either a sloth or cheetah. Sloths are the ones that walk literally 0.0078 miles per hour, as if they have nowhere to be. They’re the ones who receive plenty of sleep and still aren’t energized to move their feet at a normal pace.

The cheetahs, on the other hand, actually care. They are willing to push the sloths to the ground and even bite in order to get to their next source of knowledge on time. This is why cheetahs are evolutionarily clever and quick witted—their education surrounds their lives, and they are willing to do the worst, even if it means hurting the ones closest to them in their own packs in order to gain advantages regarding their success. Cheetahs are in it to win it, and will do whatever it takes to be victorious.

I have trailed off a bit on my true purpose, though. Please don’t take this the wrong way either, cause I am only “humbly propos[ing] my own thoughts” (Swift 405). So, to all the cheetahs at Troy High: instead of stabbing your closest supporters in the back for your own prosperity, make the sloths your victims. These slow-pokes deserve to be extinct; they are ruining the school’s momentum during passing time.

Lie to them, cheat them, cook them for dinner, push them down the stairs…. Who cares? It would only do good for Troy High in the end.

For example, the school will become a more fast-paced one. Without the sloths, cheetahs can speed to classes before the second bell even rings, since the annoying species won’t be in the way anymore. No more having to push these obnoxiously slow animals to get to your destination—they will be exterminated from the property of Troy High. The halls will be clearer, lunchrooms emptier, bathrooms cleaner, and more. The school will simply be a better place for all who desire to actually earn an education by arriving to class on time.

Doesn’t matter how the duty is done, as long as you cheetahs get what you want then life is accomplished.

So let’s turn Troy High from a jungle of madness to a place where only the best survives…

 So I “humbly” suggest that we destroy the sloths (Swift 405)!

Green Paper Rules All

Anxiety, anxiety, and…. well…. more anxiety—that’s what we fill our lives with. As high schoolers, we are in a constant state of worry and stress that never leaves our shoulders no matter how hard we try to push it off; it weighs us down and crushes any bit of happiness we have left to offer.

But, we cannot blame anyone for this problem other than ourselves. The real question is: WHY must we do this? WHY do we let the stress take over our lives? WHY is it capable of controlling our every move and emotion? 

I hate to break it to you, but the answer is money. I know that’s the response you don’t want to hear, but it’s 100% true. Just think about it for a hot sec:

Why must we get A’s in all five or six of our AP classes? –to get into college

Why do we need to get 5’s on all of our AP exams? –college credit

Why college? –our future careers

Why a job? –money

It all comes down to money. Yes, our constant stress is directly related to the green paper in our pockets; it’s crazy what our values have come down to. We’re afraid of being stuck inside our nightmares of “cold comfort” and want to secure a life of riches and the pleasurable comfort of our own homes. In our minds, we “cannot get on well in the world without money (Hazlitt).” 

But what about love? Joy? Family? Friends? Celebrations? Have these wonderful things in life been crushed by the concept of riches as well?

We MUST stop and relax. Stop stressing about your SAT, cause that’s not what life was created for. Yes, set goals for yourself, but just be the best you can possibly be, and don’t worry about something you couldn’t fully succeed in, because that’s simply just a part of life. You know what else is a characteristic of life, though, that you may haven’t experienced in a while—true exhilaration. Real satisfaction. Actual enjoyment….

Just be happy, cause you only have one life to live, and there aren’t any second chances. You want to be able to look back and say that you've truly lived, so don’t let those little green paper pocket thingies ruin that for you.

Tick Tock

In class, we have been speaking of how our society is wasteful regarding food. However, there is one thing that we waste more than food:

our time.

Time is the most valuable resource that we human beings own. We may not realize it, but it is. Think about it—how many times have you had a good 6 hours of homework but decided to instead, just sit down in front of the tv and watch Grey’s Anatomy (or whatever show you may prefer, that’s just the one that always keeps ME busy). We tell ourselves that it’s just going to be a ten-minute break, but how many times have these “ten-minute breaks” turned into hours… same here.

And it doesn’t solely come down to procrastination, but wasting our time can also be viewed through the opposite viewpoint-- we spend too much time on school, work, or things that just stress us out. We tend to focus on our own personal futures and totally disregard the people closest to us. How many times have we said to one another, “I’m too busy to talk right now” or “I’m sorry I just have so much homework”-- I admit, I’m also guilty.

Even though this isn’t a quote from what we’ve done this week, I think Jon Katz’s concept here really represents what I’m trying to say:

“I think if I’ve learned anything about friendship, it’s to hang in, stay connected, fight for them, and let them fight for you. Don’t walk away, don’t be distracted, don’t be too busy or tired, don’t take them for granted. Friends are part of the glue that holds life and faith together. Powerful stuff.”

No matter how much school work I may have, the people surrounding me honestly keep me sane. I seriously need them to wake up every morning, and if I didn’t have them, I would be stuck talking to my ap textbooks 24/7. I can’t think of the possibility where they aren’t in my life; they are in fact the “glue” keeping my existence together.

This also brings forth the concept of self-reliance. Lars Eighner states that he thinks of “scavenging as a modern form of self-reliance” (Eighner 429). 

I don’t know how much I can enforce the fact that I heavily disagree with this statement. Apparently, he thinks that he is able to survive all BY HIMSELF through the food he secures BY HIMSELF---- umm, yeah NO. He literally goes on about how he takes advantage of college students through a large portion of his essay. So obviously, he definitely could NOT survive all “by himself”… there’s absolutely no way that would be possible.

So back to my point—we CANNOT rely on ourselves to live. Every single human being needs people around them to simply function. In order to be successful, we need motivation and people who care about our well-being. So, let’s not ditch the people who just want to be in our presence for homework that we can finish later, because I can assure you, if we can make time for our Netflix shows, we can also make time for the people closest to us. 

The days might go by slow, but the years go by fast-- so let’s not waste any of our precious time… let’s make the best out of it.

Who Cares?

"A woman uses about 20,000 words per day while a man uses about 7,000" (Mehl 557).

As I read this so-called "fact," I feel as if I'm reading complete gibberish. 

We all talk-- it's a part of life. Who cares if I talk more than the person next to me? Who cares if I never stop complaining or ranting; it's just who I am and I can't help it-- but it's certainly not because I am female.

Whoever came up with the erroneous idea that women talk more than men is obviously a person who equates one's gender with their personality, two ideas in which correlation does NOT mean causation. A human's personality grows and becomes their own, which includes how he or she behaves, learns, and of course, talks. It is unfair to find coincidences throughout our daily lives and place a label onto groups as a whole based on what we think we see and understand. 

This is exactly what always happens to women-- we are constantly being stereotyped with several, and annoying, reputations such as being needy, weak, and in charge of household duties (raising children, cleaning after men, etc). I am so sick of being treated as inferior to men, as if I can't handle myself all alone in this judgmental world. The constant stereotyping of women needs to come to an end, so we can live in a place where a comments such as "Oh, she's a girl be nice" or "Of course she did, what a girl," cease to exist.

And going back to the whole "who talks more thing," I can assure you, I know PLENTY of guys who talk way more than me, and that's saying a lot because we all know I am a chatty one. 

But then again, who cares?

She's Been Marked

Ok I'm just going to let whoever's reading this know: I'm not just saying what I'm about to describe solely because I'm a fellow female; this is the real world, not something I've made up.

First off, yes I agree: men can be marked just as women can. The thing that catches my attention, though, is how men don't receive the criticisms nearly as much as women do. 

For example-- the dress code. Many females are punished for simply showing their shoulders or wearing leggings. I mean come on..... LEGGINGS! I don't know what they expect from us... they're just pants! And our shoulders.... how are they any different from a guy's? We females are shamed for wearing outfits considered too tight or revealing; yet, I have never witnessed a single guy become disciplined for wearing saggy pants or muscle tanks, which by the way, also reveal their shoulders!

As one can tell, women are constantly being "marked" with the impression of trying to show off their body. Each of us are judged based on every small detail of how we look, being "marked" because of our own unique style that unfortunately, is regarded the wrong way simply because we are female.

"Tight sleeveless dress," "sexy jumpsuit," "baggy slacks," "stylish black t-shirts," "frosted blond," "dark lashes;" rather than noticing what a girl wears by solely her clothing, which is already bad enough, each item contains a detailed description of how others see her wearing that specific outfit (Tannen 552). It can never just be a dress or a shirt, but has to be accompanied by an adjective that marks them, forcing women to stand out from the rest of society, and not necessarily in a positive way.

Now, I'm not saying that I don't want women to be considered "marked," but I just wish that society would stop looking at a woman differently when she wears a business suit to a meeting just as a man, or when she shows her shoulders, or wears shorts.... we should be able to mark ourselves without judgement, and hopefully one day I can go to school with an off-the-shoulder shirt and not get dress coded for it.

What is Love?

As I was reading the psychoanalytic view of The Great Gatsby, I stumbled upon an intriguing quote:

"..romantic love is the stage on which all of our unresolved psychological conflicts are dramatized.." 

This made me think deeply about what love truly is, which forces me to ask:

Is there such thing as love, or do we only love what we psychologically need based on our past?

I know that in The Great Gatsby, each relationship had their own problems, and it was because of the fact that they were merely using each other for their own benefits, which ultimately related to how they were raised.

But let's face it: The Great Gatsby is not the best book to rely on for love advice.

If love were solely based on psychology, then why is it possible for two people to care more about each other than themselves? It takes two to love, and it would be extremely invalid to say that every single relationship in this world consists of two people who are only drawn to one another because one contains the psychological needs of the other... everyone getting struck by lightning is more likely than this being true.

And love isn't only an emotion you have toward someone, but it is composed of many emotions that two people feel for each other; it has to be felt by both in the relationship. Love combines two people into one, creating a brand new human being.

Love DOES exist, but it's one of those things that is rare to find and hold onto; but when you find it, your whole world will light up and you will know, deep down, that you're in love.

Please Don't Remind Me

In "The Great Gatsby," the message of how people cannot repeat their past, no matter how hard they try, is thoroughly enforced. Although, I see myself and Gatsby as two tremendously different people.

Why do I say that? For one, as Gatsby becomes addicted to recreating something that was once lost, I have no intentions of attempting to rebuild damage that was done in my past. 

"Your past comes back to haunt you." That's how my mind interprets thoughts from back in time. I think of it as a ghost that shows up in my worst nightmares, or a cloud that soaks me to the point where my whole body shrivels up like a raison. 

For example, it's when I see a chubby photo of myself from the fourth grade, or when I remember the time I had gotten into a fight with my best friend; I would never want to relive these painful memories.

And that's what I don't understand about Gatsby. A girl he loved had left him for another man because she was impatient. I don't know about you guys, but wouldn't that ring a bell in your head telling you that she's not the right girl? Isn't her leaving you awful enough, or do you really want to go for her again and eventually have her ditch you once more?

The past is something that shouldn't be messed with. There's a reason why we are not allowed to turn back time, because if we were capable of doing so, our lives would be full of despair and destruction.

A clock keeps moving. It keeps ticking. It never stops. This is our life; always moving, always ticking, never stopping; and we need to be okay with that.

So, "tomorrow we will run faster, [and] stretch our arms farther" to create a life that we can continue to build on, without wishing to start all over again. This way, we can focus on our future instead of being held back by our pasts.

Spread the Love

"'Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,'" he told me, "'Just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages you've had'" (Fitzgerald 5).

This quote stands out from the rest of the novel as it is extremely blunt, although accurate. Much of our population is quick to judge people over just one measly action or word.

We have to be honest with ourselves; we put a title on people way too fast and that needs to stop. Obviously, this isn't always the case, but we do it without even noticing most of the time.

For example, just a few days ago, I overheard two girls talking about a young man that had just walked by. Their exact words were:

"Who is that?"

"I don't know, but he's creepy."

He hadn't even speak to them! They didn't give him a chance to prove himself, because they had already conjured up a conclusion with no evidence to back it up.

Sometimes, the people we judge aren't having the best day or are going through a difficult event in their life; and we only make it worse with our harsh words.

And don't get me wrong, I probably do it all the time without even realizing it, because like I said earlier, this is a common flaw that is built inside of us. We cannot control it, but we can try to overthrow it. We have to try our very best to understand if what we're thinking is actually logical and inoffensive. If we can successfully do this, there won't be those "loners" that have been secluded from the rest of the school because of inaccurate rumors. Problems with bullying should decrease exponentially. Kids will acquire more friends that they can love and trust.

We would be one step closer to achieving true happiness for each and every one of us, because there would be less hatred to spread.

Google is Wrong

Google defines beauty as "a combination of qualities, such as shape, color, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight."

As I look at this definition, I begin to ponder and question what this whole world deduces beauty to be. I mean if Google defines it, then it must be true, right?

WRONG!

Nowhere in that definition does it mention beauty being an inner quality, rather, only gives examples such as "shape, color, or form." In other words, Google is saying that one's body shape, skin color, and weight is what makes a person beautiful. 

Are we as a society going to continue to believe this fallacy? Will we resume to try and live up to what the typical "beauty standards" are? 

These conjectures of beauty produce many problems within the female population. Women want to reach the bar of what is considered to be "beautiful."

Take myself, for instance. I have never thought of myself to even be able to compete with other girls at Troy High. Through my perspective, every other girl has qualities that I can never even strive to have. They are all either taller than me, better in shape, skinnier, have cuter outfits, or an infinite number of other reasons.

And I know for a fact that I am not the only one with this mentality. In every other girl's mind, something is always wrong with the way she looks. I have literally heard girls say,

"My thighs are too big."

"My eyebrows are weirdly shaped."

"My hands are ugly."

Even Hagar from Song of Solomon was having difficulty squeezing into a skirt smaller than her usual size. She "sucked in her stomach and pulled the fabric as far as possible, but the teeth of the zipper would not join" (Morrison 310). In her head, if she is unable to fit into this desirable size, then she is "overweight," at least, according to Google's definition of beauty.

I just want to slap society across the face for shaping women into what it thinks they should look like! They do not have the authority to control women mentality, yet women continue to listen, as if it's their master.

I truly hope that one day, women will wake up and realize that Google is wrong; beauty is not about the exterior, but it is represented through one’s identity and personality. A beautiful girl is one who makes others smile, not jealous.

Burdened with my Thoughts

Every day I walk into Troy High not ready for what my teachers have to offer me. What new lessons will I learn that I don't understand? Will I receive a pop quiz in one of my classes and fail it? Will I be able to successfully perform tonight's homework without difficulties?

Can you recognize what all of these thoughts have in common? 

I'll answer that question for you: they all contain negative ideas of what I can accomplish in a given day. In my mind, I will never succeed on a pop quiz or fully understand what's going on in certain classes. I will always go home and continue to be confused. 

In Song of Solomon, a peacock is described as having "jewelry [that] weighs it down" (Morrison 179), representing how wealth is preventing both Macon and Milkman from truly living their lives. This revived me, as I realized all of the opportunities I have missed out on was because I was being stomped on by my own reflections.

I think of myself as never being as good as anyone else, no matter what. Whether it's English, biology, soccer, creativity, etc... I always put myself last on a scale of best to worse.

I feel as if I am that peacock, but instead of jewelry, my pessimistic thoughts are constantly holding me back from reaching my full potential. It's as if my brain is unable to cooperate with the portion that controls positive behavior. 

Why do I do this to myself? I have absolutely no idea. Although, I have finally recognized that I do indeed acquire such characteristics and will strive to improve on no longer thinking this way. If I continue to do so, I will be able to fly and be free from the burdens that keep me glued to the ground.

We all have something that prevents us from completing certain tasks, yet we don't know why or how they developed. We've got to work hard to make sure that there isn't any jewelry weighing us down, because "nobody [can] fly with all that shit" (Morrison 179).

"Wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down" (Morrison 179).

Large House, Enormous Imprisonment

Throughout Song of Solomon, flight is a significant motif representing how African Americans wanted an escape from the slavery they were forced into.

I can relate.

Ok maybe not exactly, but I indeed want to fly away and escape the house I so call “live” in.

What exactly do I mean by that? I’m talking about how my parents are extremely protective over me, therefore restrict me from everything life has to offer. I am bound to their feet, having to obey their every move.

I NEED an escape from this life. I feel like I’m a slave having to listen to every word of my owners, or else I won’t hear the end of it. 

Although, others may be annoyed with what I’m saying right now, because they desire the house I live in, which is huge and gorgeous. The problem is, what is a house without its roots? What is a shelter if you have nothing to live for? This passage in Song of Solomon is one that can help people understand my grief:

“[The ones] who did, who accepted her invitations to tea and envied the doctor’s big dark house of twelve rooms and the green sedan.... The others, who knew that the house was more prison than palace, and that the Dodge sedan was for Sunday drives only, felt sorry for Ruth Foster” (Morrison 9-10).

I feel like Ruth: trapped inside a huge house, unable to break free from its confinement. Only the ones closest to me know that my house is much prettier on the outside than in the deep depths of it. 

Sometimes, I am so close to breaking down the doors and just driving away from the terror. Other times, I want to scream so loud, hoping others will feel my sorrow. 

Unfortunately, I can’t do so, and I will have to deal with all my problems just as the slaves did. I hope one day, my parents will realize that their ways aren’t protecting me, rather, killing me slowly, day by day.

Where has the Time Gone?

“Time flies” (Spiegelman 39). You hear this expression throughout your life, but don’t realize it’s true until you remember your freshman year in high school as it’s your senior year of college thinking, “Wow, when did I get here?” 

It’s astonishing to think that I have been alive for 16 years, and I know that may not sound like a lot, but to me, it shows me how long I’ve had a chance to foster a change in society, but haven’t. What have I done that has impacted anyone in these past 16 years? Complain to my teachers about grades? Criticizing my parents about how they're being unreasonable? Yelling at my sisters because they are being obnoxious? None of these actions have created a difference in any way, and it’s sad to think that I have had a full 16 years to do so.

In “Maus,” Art Spiegelman lists several important dates, including how “Vladek died of congestive heart failure on August 18, 1982,” and how he and his wife were “expecting a baby between May 16, 1944 and May 24, 1944” (Spiegelman 41). He lists several dates as if they happened one after another, but they actually are 62 years apart. He fails to mention anything else that happened in his life during these years, besides of course, writing his book. 

I get to school, learn stuff, come home, watch Netflix, eat, do homework until midnight, go to bed, wake up, then repeat. I have done this for 16 years, and I know most of you reading this can relate. Is this what we plan on doing until we get a job and receive a new daily schedule? 

I certainly hope not. 

I feel as if these “time flies” are constantly surrounding me, just as they did to Vladek, screaming in my ears of how they will never stop bothering me. They are eating my time away, as if faster and faster each day.

We need to stop pedaling on our stationary bike and start going outside to ride our real ones. The stationary bikes aren’t going to take us anywhere in life, hence the name. We have to have the courage to get off and start fresh. 

We need to start doing more with our lives, and I’m not saying to stop caring about school or grades, because trust me, that is definitely not going to happen in my case either. I’m trying to say that little steps can help make this world a better place. For instance, start recycling your water bottles, when you chew gum actually throw it into the trash, do community service, etc. These small actions will soon produce a substantial change, so the next time I see those pesky “time flies,” I will be able to shove it into their faces, because I’m living the best life I can, for both me and the world. 

If the Shoe Fits

We all feel emotional and depressed when we hear about events like the Holocaust or 9-11. We sit in despair as we watch the news on the latest terrorist attack. We try to put our feet in the victims’ shoes as much as we possibly can, but the question is, are we truly able to fit into their sizes? 

Let’s talk about the holocaust. We know the facts: Jews were tortured and killed. We know the Nazis killed them and that Hitler was ultimately responsible, but what else can we conjure up? This is exactly my point. We will never truly understand how these victims felt because we weren’t there to experience the horror. It is impossible to feel the emotions and pain that these innocent people felt, and no matter how hard we try, we will never truly know.

In “Maus,” it is necessary to note that Art Spiegelman wants to hear of his father’s wartime memories, but at the same time, he is unable to feel the pain his father is going through as he retells his story. When his father says, “My eye started so bleeding,” he is also anaphorically leaking blood as he talks about his past. This represents all the painful history he obtains that Spiegelman will never truly understand.

Although, I don’t mean to inform you to erase all these painful memories from your brain. It is important that we always remember the traumatic events that have occurred, because if they are ever forgotten, the same tragedies will repeat over and over again. Just as Powell says, “[the Holocaust] remains that which cannot be remembered but also that which cannot be forgotten.” We should try to fit our feet into their shoes as best as we can, even though they will never be the perfect size.

Bound to Men

Chinese women are considered inferior to men. They are deprived of the rights that men own and live to serve them, having no voice represented in society. A male child is considered a gift while a female one is shameful to own. Chinese women endure many hardships, including getting their feet bound, which give them no opportunities to escape the awful life they have. Chinese women are brutally mistreated and thought of as trash. Their society thinks that “Feeding girls is feeding cowbirds” (Kingston 46). They are worthless, yet are still used for important tasks that no man could ever fulfill, which include cooking, cleaning, and most importantly, creating new lives.

The relationship of a Chinese woman and her husband symbolize the relationship between African American slaves and their white owners. Slaves were treated as if they weren’t even human beings, but were a species that deserved torture. They were trapped in their land of work, and were punished if they ever “disobeyed” their owners, just as women in Chinese society are. White people were always superior and the African American slaves had to be submissive in order to stay alive, which wasn’t a great life to live anyways. 

I know we don’t have it nearly as bad as women in China do, or slaves did back then, but females in America are also stereotyped to be less efficient than men. What I mean is that we always have to act proper or “lady-like” and should constantly bear a smile on our faces, no matter what. If we even do so much as a burp, people will be grossed out. In addition, we are thought of to be not as strong as a man. When we have moments of weaknesses, someone must say “be a man” to us, as if we don’t already know that we aren’t one. It is unfair how women are stereotyped to act a certain way, trapped on our “little bound feet” (Kingston 44). I truly hope one day this can change, for women all around the globe. If we got rid of slavery, though, this should be an easy fix.

Preventing Knowledge is not the Answer

Billy Collins presents a poem to explain the story of how a teacher lies to his students to protect their innocence. For instance, Collins states, “Trying to protect his [the teacher’s] students’ innocence he told them the Ice Age was really just the Chilly Age, a period of a million years when everyone had to wear sweaters” (1-4). The teacher is incorporating the fact that kids should not be aware of the evils this world has presented, but not giving them the knowledge that they rightfully deserve is going to affect their lives in crucial ways. 

I am an example of this concept. My father was always the dad that would never let me go out alone, hang out with boys, or even watch the television when he thought something “inappropriate” was occurring. He thinks that if he controls me to this extent that I will obey, but what he doesn’t understand is that I am not a puppy who will listen if he feeds me a treat. What he has done only made things worse for me, because I was left out of society and what it had to offer. He made it more difficult for me to fit into society's standards.

Unlike Henry David Thoreau, who informs the people of the United States to rebel against the government in his piece, "Civil Disobedience," I am not telling all of you to walk out on your parents because they are being overbearing, rather, I want us to prove to them that we know what we're doing and they shouldn't feel the need to retrace our every step. For me, I am sick and tired of being watched over like a hawk and not being taught to know what good and bad things there are to life.

I understand the intent he had toward his actions, but unfortunately, he cannot comprehend the fact that I am mature enough to handle things on my own; he needs to let go. I know it can be hard for parents to do so, but somewhere along the line, they will enjoy to see us grow and prosper in life, and the only way this can happen is if we get to experience it for ourselves, and the same thing goes for the children in Collins's poem if they learn what truly happened in our past.

Independence for All

Many years ago, African Americans were treated as if they were not people, but were worthless pieces of the United States government. While everyone else celebrated their freedom on the Fourth of July, they sat in despair waiting for their own freedom holiday to arise. Frederick Douglass believed that the United States’ so called “Independence Day” was only for whites. He informs his crowd of how African Americans cannot celebrate this holiday since they have not yet gotten the independence they deserved, unlike the rest of America. Slaves were not free, but in captivity, always having to be submissive to their owners. 

Furthermore, the Bible preaches the fact that everyone is equal, and the supposed Christian whites are strong believers in its teachings, so it’s questionable that this part of the Bible is skipped, since clearly, African Americans did not have any rights; they worked just as much as whites, and acquired the same jobs, yet were still considered to be the inferior race. Douglass informs his audience, “..your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to Him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy-...” He is trying to make a point by saying how God is disappointed in America and can see how people are betraying Him. Today, the world has gotten better with allowing everyone to have independence and not only a certain race. There are still some improvements that need to be made, but the United States is well on its way to truly having an Independence Day for everyone to celebrate passionately, which is exactly what Frederick Douglas wanted.