Farewell, Compquistadors!

Here I am, Thursday night. My last blog post. Some would say I procrastinated, but really, I just wanted to draw this out as long as possible. As of tomorrow, I will no longer be a blogger. It sounds sad, yet slightly liberating. I suppose I could continue to write in the realm of blogs, but what do I have to write about? I mean, I have plenty to write about, but I'm not sure if anyone will want to read it unless they're commenting for a grade. I know I will survive one way or another, because although we may stop being bloggers, we will always be compquistadors, and that's the important thing anyway.

Besides that, I would just like to say that for all the work, stress, timed writings, multiple choice tests, and odd pieces of literature that this class has put us all through, it was worth it in the end. There were also good parts- the things were read that made us stop and really think, those amazing discussions/debates, all the things we learned, and all the things we laughed about. The culmination of all this is that we came out better people, better writers, and better readers. Or, if not, at least we survived it. Personally, I'd like to think that this experience has helped me in some strange way. I knew from the start, or at least I hoped, that it would improve me as a writer. But I think now that it has changed me in some other way too. I'm not really sure how, and I don't know what caused this occurrence, but I can tell that something happened. I feel ready now, but I don't know what for. My point, I suppose, is simply this: it was an amazing two quarters and a heck of a class. I will not forget it and I doubt the rest of you will either. So good luck on those timed writings tomorrow, and farewell compquistadors! We made it!

A Piece of Apple Pie

The art piece I chose was "Mountain Sites" by Roger Brown. For those who didn't go or don't remember, it was the one with about 12 mountains that were all in a row and all looked the same (and they all had this strange crazy glow). Tucked in between were houses with silhouettes inside. There was a fence in the foreground with people looking up.

To me, this piece seemed to be saying that people are far apart and separated by important and imposing things. The people by the fence can't see the houses and those in the houses can't see the other houses or those at the fence. However, the viewer can see it all- all the mountains, all the people, and all the houses. This could be taken to symbolize how some people separate themselves. They have mountains and problems and cut themselves off from the world. But since the viewer can see them, they are never alone. Another part I found interesting was that the mountains are all the same. This could be taken to mean that the problems people think are so terrible are actually the same as other's problems and not specific just to them. It relates to America because we tend to isolate ourselves, either in a good way or a bad way, and sometimes we feel that we are the only ones in the world with problems.

If I could ask the artist anything, I would ask why he decided to paint it. What were his intentions? What did he want the people to think of when they looked at it? (if any of you can try to answer, even though you're not the artist, it would be appreciated!)


The voices left out are the voices of race in any way. The people are all just silhouettes. All are painted in black, but that description does not have anything to do with their race. It doesn't matter who you are, your silhouette is black. It's pretty much the definition of a silhouette. Anyway, moving on, in this piece, besides races, it also isn't apparent what the people's ages are. They could be any age at all. The size is all the same for everyone. I'm glad he left out those things because it shows that his theme is universal. It remains unchanging throughout.

This piece relates to The Great Gatsby in several ways. The most important way is that in Gatsby a lot of the rich people complained about little things. In this piece of work, they are not little things, they are mountains, but they are the same thing over and over like in the book. It's also connected because it is about the divides between people. There were divides between Tom and Daisy, then Gatsby and Daisy, then Nick and Jordan, then Myrtle and her husband.

This piece was complex and I'm sure I've only begun to scratch the surface of the meaning behind it. Hopefully I've managed to shed a little light on it for you, though.

Field Trip!

I don't know about the rest of you, but I thoroughly enjoyed our field trip yesterday! Maybe it was just that the weather was nice and we got to be outside of school or maybe it was something else entirely, but it was just amazing.

Alright, so I'll start with the lecture, since that was first. I was pretty confused about what he was saying, but I think that was mostly because I had to keep trying to keep up with the plot. I still don't have that figured out, maybe it didn't really have much of one? In any case, most of the time I was looking at what the other "real" students were doing (Facebook much?) and fighting against the small amount of sleep I got last night. Don't get me wrong, this guy certainly was interesting, but something about sitting in that big warm lecture hall made me especially tired.


Moving through the day now to lunch. I have one word: noodles! Enough said.

Then came the art museum- this was far and away my favorite part of the day. I'm not always the one most likely to spend hours in an art museum, maybe a couple, but for not excessive amounts of time. However, I found myself wishing we could have stayed even longer. It was so much fun to be able to stand there, up close with all this amazing artwork and just be able to look at it. Not just a quick glance, but truly see it and break it down, maybe notice some things that are not obvious at first glance. I only wish I could have done that with more of the artwork.

I also thought that the art on display was really an interesting spectrum of America. It wasn't just pictures of pie (did anyone find that one, by the way? I missed it) but it was display of people and things that had real meaning and relevance. I'll be honest, some of it was a little disturbing, some was a little disgusting (ahem, rabbit) but a lot of it was very realistic. Some things were more about times in the past, and some was more pertinent for today. In any case, all were solid representations, in their own ways.


Overall, it was an awesome day and I can't wait to see what everyone blogs about next week when we have to write about the artwork! (although did some people do that today?)

Space Exploration

I realize that we wrote about this a while ago, by I wanted to put my thoughts out there about space exploration. The essay really got me thinking about things I'd never really considered before. While I didn't really take a position in the paper because I didn't realize we were supposed to, I thought about it afterwards and discussed it with a few people. These are my thoughts on the subject so far:

I think that instead of spending time, money, and resources in order to find a place to go after we use up our planet, we should be using those assets to find a way to keep our planet healthy enough so that it can still support life. Why try to change another planet in order to make it habitable when we have a perfectly designed planet right here? Our globe has everything we need, if we could figure out how to responsibly handle those things. We have already identified several problems that need to be dealt with, so even though some are still under debate, we could be fixing others right now.

Another part of this is the funding behind it. While it looked like a miniscule amount on the pie chart, after billions of dolars spent, it adds up. There are so many other things we could be spending our money on. I'm not saying we shouldn't spend money on space travel, but I am saying that if we do, we need to have a reason better than that it inspires wonder in people. Wonder is well and good, but it means nothing to people who are sick or who don't even have anything to eat. Wonder won't fill stomach or clean up disasters. It can help people feel good, but that won't mean anything if the basics are not taken care of.

I guess my point, in the end, is that space travel (and money spent on it) isn't necessarily all bad. However, it shouldn't be our first priority. In a nation and a world where we have many pressing issues, it's hard to give our time to everything that needs it. So it's ok to spend time on this, but only after the more serious things have been taken care of. That's my two cents worth anyway.

The Scarlet Letter

For anyone who doesn't know (I guess that would just be the 2nd blockers) I chose to read The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne for my choice novel. The strange part of this occurrence is that I'm not entirely sure why I picked that book. It seems that on Saturday, a week ago, I told my mom I needed a book for AP Comp and we headed to Barnes and Noble. For whatever reason, I decided I wanted to read a classic (maybe inspired by The Great Gatsby?) In any event, I ended up buying The Scarlet letter, possibly because I thought it sounded interesting. Although the back was very vague, so I'm not sure why I thought that (if I thought that at all). On the other hand, it could have been the title that intrigued me. I had heard the phrase several times, especially in music, but I never really understood it. I still don't, actually, but I'm hoping I will. One thing I do know, it was not the cover that garnered my interest. It is a nasty shade of brown accompanied with a big section of black with a dark red letter on it (how creative). Not that I'm saying they should have put anything else on there besides the letter, but I would like to at least be able to read what the letter is. An 'A' maybe? But it could also be an 'H'. There's even a part of the illustration that resembles an 'S.' So I guess my point is, after much rambling, that I am still unsure how exactly I ended up with this book, but I'm 100 pages in and there's no turning back now.

That is not to say, however, that I am not enjoying the book, because I really am. That said, I'm not sure why that is either. I figured I might have trouble staying interested and focused, but that hasn't happened yet. The plot, so far is interesting enough, I suppose. There hasn't been a whole lot that has happened, but there have been many things that the author has started talking about, but has left the reader hanging. I like that, though, because it makes me want to keep reading. I could also be enjoying the book because of the descriptions. Hawthorne has a different descriptive style from Fitzgerald, but I like them both for their separate reasons. Hawthorne uses decidedly less color, but he does use some. The predominant color, I've noticed, is red, the same color as (obviously) the scarlet letter. He's very visual in his explanations and he makes a lot of comparisons, which is really helpful in gaining a mental image.

So far, this book would definitely be something I would recommend. I hope all of you have been having good experiences with your choice novels as well!

I Hear America Listening

I hear America listening, the silence crowded with voices
Some are the speakers, some are the silent listeners
The teen listening to Lady Gaga,
The grandmother listening to her husband play the piano,
The single mom, listening to the screaming of her infant son,
The businessman, listening to the screaching of tires and honking of horns on a busy New York avenue,
The young boy, listening to the rain outside his window, and waiting for the sun,
The doctor, listening to the incessant beeps, the stressed voices, and the cries of human pain,
The teacher, listening to the whining voices of her students,
The waitress, listening to orders and the sizzling of grease on a frying pan,
The day that which belongs to the day- at night the sounds of silence
and people listening, with patient ears, to the melodies of life.

"Are they my poor?"

No, Mr. Emerson, they are not. But it does lead to an interesting question, don't you think? If not yours, then whose? Your guess is as good as mine, but seeing as how you're dead, I think I'll take a stab at it. The poor belong to themselves, just as you and I belong to ourselves. People don't really own other people anymore, and I'm sure that would make you happy, seeing as you were an abolitionist. So, it's true, it's not your obligation or your responsibility to help those people. You are quite free to leave those people to their depressing lives and go on your merry way. No worries Ralph, someone else has it covered. Your "wicked dollar" can get spent on something else so that it becomes a good dollar. However, just to play the devil's advocate, I'll ask another question: what if no one else is taking care of them? Does that bother you? I'm guessing not, having read that paragraph, but I kind of think it should. If you have "wicked dollars" to spare, why not help someone else out? I know, I know, you regret every dollar you've ever given becuase most of them end in not really mattering, or at least not doing what you wanted, but I'm thinking that you can't really go wrong by simply reaching down a hand to pull up your neighbors. To you, it may feel like a waste, but to that person, it could be all the difference. Don't want to give them money? Fine, maybe you could at least be nice to them or offer them something else. A blanket? Some stale bread? I'm sure you've got something you don't need. Maybe I took your statemtent the wrong way, and if so, I apologize profusely. But if it is, in fact, how I understood it to be, I'd like to close with one remark: while they may not be your poor, they are people and you should do what you can to help them.

Humbly Yours,
Elise

P.S. While I may share different views from you on some subjects, I did enjoy reading your essay and thought you made some wise points and obsevations. Just try to be a little more understanding, okay?

The Eyes

OK, I just have to blog about the eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg. I must admit, they simply fascinate me. I can't stop thinking about them. They pop up in the most unpredictable places and they could symbolize so many things. I think that's one of the reasons I like them so much, they aren't confined to one thing, they could be anything (almost).

On the cover (of most of the books), his eyes appear as the dominant feature. It's the first thing you see, even before the title. I didn't pay much attention to that before I cracked the book open, but now I think it's pretty important. In the picture, the eyes are shown above a bunch of bright colors (symbolism in themselves), but in this image, the colors seem to be depicting a cityscape. There is a blue line right where the cheek would be, and it almost seems like it could be another light from the city, but then when you notice where it is located, you realize it's more like a tear. I like this picture because I think it really gets at the symbolism behind the eyes themselves.

This symbolism being that his eyes see EVERYTHING. And yes, I mean this literally. Every time something big happens, Fitzgerald talks about T.J. Eckleburg's eyes. This is especially true whenever Myrtle is involved. Each time someone slips up (and this happens often) those eyes are watching. Even when Fitzgerald doesn't mention them, you know they're there. The eyes are a constant in the book, never leaving, never moving, never blinking, never blind. It doesn't matter where you go, you can't hide from them. It's important, because with all the selfish people in this story making crazy choices, it's important to note that those mistakes do not go unnoticed. It would be all to easy to think that these people are in their own world, unreachable by the outside, but Fitzgerald wants to make sure we know that's not the case.

Another thing I noticed is that Dr. Eckleburg himself never makes an appearance. Has he since died? Or is he better left as a symbol, not a character? I, personally, was a little disappointed. I would have loved to see him described in Fitzgerald's vivid imagery. He could have been a person to intervene in these peoples' lives, instead of just looking on. Maybe it wouldn't have worked, though. He might not have been able to make a difference. He was only an oculist, after all. In any case, he is left as he is, seeing all, knowing all, the silent watchman.

The Declaration

I'm sure there are plenty of you out there who were bored out of your minds while reading the Declaration, but I, for one, was mesmerized. I loved the way the words flowed like poetry and how, even though they're talking about some pretty heavy stuff, it's beautiful. It's so logical and well thought out, not just a lame grade-school tirade about how unfair Britain is.

I also think it's really cool to actually be able to read something like this that has had such a huge impact on us. I've seen the actual document in DC and we've learned about it so many times in History class, but I've never read it all the way through and analyzed it. I think everybody should read it at least once in their lifetime, simply becuase it is so influential and so well written.

It's interesting, too, to think about the writers of this amazing document. I wouldn't even know where to start if I had to write something this important. I have trouble just figuring out what to say for simple school assignments, and I have no idea what I would do if the thing I was writing would change the course of our nation, even the world, forever. How would I even begin? Somehow, the writers of the Declaration must have figured it out, but I'm at a loss how they did it. Not only did they convey their intentions with absolute clarity, but they accompanied them with grace and eloquence. There are few in this world today, if any, who could do what they did.

I hold these writers in the utmost respect. I wish people still wrote like that today, but there is still much to be said for our writers. The styles have changed immensely over the years, but at least this remains the same: People continue to write to revolutionize and to change our world. They write to improve things and to inform and to make a difference. Our causes are still noble (at least, many are) just as they were back in 1776. My hope is that our causes stay noble for as long as we continue to write about them.

Of Monsters and Maps

I loved looking at all the maps last week. It was totally fascinating to see a new representation of places that are so familiar to us. It was also hilarious to see the various things they included. There was a map with the Loch Ness Monster, one with a bunch of pelicans labeled, even one with a random sketch of a colony of beavers. I found all the little details to be quite humorous. It also made me wonder, what was the point? Why did we need to see Nessie or a rock full of pelicans? Then I decided that the little drawings are what make the maps relatable. By adding a myth or a familiar sight, the artist made could make his map feel like home. These small images would have made the maps seem a little less foreign, and a little more like normal.

I also liked their close attention to detail, from each small hill to the illustrations lining the edges. Our maps today are detailed, down to the last highway and side road, but when it comes to marking geographic landmarks or just making quirky little side pictures, we are certainly lacking. I think we’ve lost something valuable over the years. I, personality, would enjoy seeing a little mouse peering up at me, or perhaps a fish swimming in the middle of Lake Michigan. Maps today are for function, not fun.

My point, I suppose, is simply just that it is important to pay attention to the small things because they can go a long way. However cliché it may sound, it is still true. Today, people think that maps are just for finding your way (at least, if you happen to be using a map and not a GPS). We don’t really care if the maps we use make us smile or make us feel at home. All we want is to get from point A to point B without getting hopelessly lost. Maybe if there was a beaver on our maps, we’d be a little less stressed while driving and we’d be more likely to find our way.

Truth

I read the chapter, “Good Form,” in The Things They Carried this weekend. It answered some of my questions but left others still gaping open. I guess I’ll begin by breaking it down into pieces. The first sentence I though was ironic. He said, “Its time to be blunt.” Hadn’t he already been blunt for the last 178 pages? But put that aside and lets move on. I felt a little hurt that he had lied to us all about the event with the soldier he, apparently, didn't kill. But when I read further I at least realized why he lied. As far as I can tell, O’Brien wants us to be able to feel the way he did. And, to a certain extent, I think he does just that. But at the same time, how can we know we feel as he did when he lied about everything?

I also didn't understand how, “the story truth is truer sometimes than the happening-truth.” How can a lie be truer than truth? What can be truer than truth? I guess he’s not talking about truth and lies; he’s talking about two kinds of truth. But how can you subdivide truth? Is there a gray area between truths and lies? Can there be an almost truth? I think those are things we all need to answer before we continue our reading in the book.

On the last page, I became frustrated. If he saw bodies, but didn't look at them, why is he describing them to us? If he really doesn’t know what they looked like, then he’s just pretty much making it up. Sure, this can help him make sense of the things he didn't see, but can’t he just keep that to himself? Why does he have to lead us down that road? Even though I was mostly frustrated, I did understand the last couple sentences. I understand that while he didn't actually kill anyone, just being in the war is almost like killing someone. Moreover, there are different kinds of killing. War can kill people, yet they still have a pulse. They’re ‘alive’ but not really.

So, I suppose, in the end I’m not sure how I feel. I a little hurt, a little angry, and a little sympathetic. At least I understand things a little more, I think, or maybe I’m just even more confused now. Either way, I’m glad he wrote that chapter. But wait…was that chapter honest? What if the whole book is true except that chapter? This crazy thought reminds me of a quote: “Oh what a tangled web we weave.” Right on, Sir Walter.

Music

I just wanted to saying that I love the music project so far. I’m finding it fascinating how the war has influenced music so much. It’s nice once in a while (or more often!) to take the time to really break down a song and think about it. I wish I had more time so I could look at more songs and see if they connect to a war in any way; I think a lot of stuff would.

I’m willing to bet that everyone in the world has been influenced by war, even those who don’t think so. We think about war from a mostly political or ethical standpoint, almost never from a musical one. This project we're doing really goes to show that war creeps in and infiltrates each potion of our lives, leaving nothing untouched. Music is more than humming in the car, it’s more than a tune, it’s more than poetry; it’s a part of life. As much as breathing and sleeping and eating, music is there. So it makes sense that if war is in life and music is in life, then music and war will go hand-in-hand. It’s only a matter of time.

Still, even though it makes sense in that way, it doesn’t make sense completely. How could you sing about something that had been so painful? For some it might be that they have to sing about it, but for others I think it would be really hard. It’s like the dancing girl in The Things They Carried, she was able to dance even when life was basically awful. In those times, it’s possible to dance, just as it’s possible to sing, but not everyone can do it. Realizing this makes me have even more respect for the musicians who put their hearts to music. We will always be indebted to them.

I can’t wait to see everyone’s presentations, they should be awesome!

Food, Glorious Food

I’m hoping you all have seen the movie Ice Age 2, otherwise my title will not make sense. It wasn’t the best movie ever, but that’s beside the point. I’m not here to write a movie review, I’d actually rather talk about the essay “XXXL,” which was Taylor’s choice essay. I loved the title and the sub-title; they were just plain funny, but the rest of the essay really wasn’t. Granted, it was written with a somewhat funny tone at times, but the content was no laughing matter.

Our addiction to food has reached colossal proportions (literally). We just seem to NEVER stop eating. It’s more of a habit than anything else, really. We just tend to keep doing it without thinking at all. That’s probably our biggest mistake. We eat and eat and eat but don’t always keep track of how much we are consuming or what’s in the foods. It would be so easy to completely ruin your health without even fully knowing what’s happening. I’m guilty of being a nervous eater, and a bored eater. It’s sometimes more of an activity than a necessity. That’s not how we were designed to live. My mom once said that there are two kinds of people, “those who eat to live, and those who live to eat.” More and more, we are becoming the second type of person.

There are lots of kids’ movies where they talk about our obsession with food. (I know because for some reason, my dad loves for animated movies, thus I watch a few more than I care to.) There is Ice Age, like mentioned above. The song those irritating little vultures sing is actually quite true of humans today. We just love food and can’t stop thinking about it. Another movie I think was called Over the Hedge. When one of the little critters was showing the other little critters around “Suburbia,” all of his descriptions centered on food. He described front doors and “the portal for the passing of the food,” and tables were, “the altar where they worship food.” Of course, it was simply a scene with a pizza delivery guy and one with a family praying, but the whole thing packed a punch. To those on the outside watching us, it does seem like our lives revolve solely around food. We may think our lives are centered around sports, or facebook, or even homework, but is that really the case? Maybe we should all examine what we spend our time doing and thinking about.

October Musings

I was amazed at how well Susan Lampert Smith hit our society on the head in so few words. We are plagued with “semi-apathy” maybe even full-on apathy. More and more I’m noticing that people, including myself, just don’t seem to care. It’s not like that all the time, but it seems to be occurring more often. I think a lot of what’s different between now and the 60’s is that people value different things. In the 60’s, they had just come off of the civil rights movement and being politically active and forming opinions was important. Today it seems like technology is the most important thing, thus putting TV shows above politics. Now, I’m not saying that politics should be the most important thing for all of us, but I am saying that TV definitely should not be the dominant thing in our lives today. There is so much more we can do that would actually be worth the time we spend on it.

I’m not saying that technology is bad, in most cases it’s extremely helpful and enjoyable, but only in moderation. When it blinds us from the rest of the world and the things taking place all around us, it is detrimental, not useful. So in that point I agree with Smith.

During class, as we’ve watched “Two Days in October,” and read this article, I’ve found myself almost wishing I could have been there that day. Obviously, I wouldn’t enjoy being hit over the head with a club, but I wish I could know what was going through the minds of the students. I want to know what their motivations were and how they reacted and why. The movie did a great job and covered some of it, but like the man also said in the film, history gets corrupted. They only way we can truly know is by being there. That’s why I would love to go back to that time, so I could understand and know for sure how it all went down. It was an important day and I’m really glad we took the time to learn about it because the effects are still being felt and talked about even 40 years later. It is not something we can or should, ever forget.

Too Many Questions, Not Enough Answers!

I obviously don’t know what it’s like to be deaf; there’s no way I could. I don’t even know anyone on a personal level who is. Therefore, my judgment may be a little lacking in perspective. However, I’ll try to be as unbiased as possible.

The man in the story, Peter, I believe it is, was talking about how he had been successful even though he was deaf. While he was talking about this, he mentioned that it had been harder for him because of his deafness. Then he went on to say that he didn’t want the cochlear implant for his daughter because he succeeded and knew she could succeed too. My only question is: why wouldn’t you want to make it easier for her? I do believe that she can be successful, but he already admitted that it was harder for him than it presumably would’ve been for a hearing person. I don’t understand why he wouldn’t want to help smooth the road for his daughter. Isn’t that what every parent wants? I know hardship builds character, but isn’t it still a good thing to help out your child any way you can? Maybe not, but its something to think about, especially when the problem is as serious as deafness.

I also don’t understand why they would move to the deaf community. I see how it’s a good thing that the people accept them more than in the hearing world, but if their children are brought up in a place so far removed from the hearing world, then they won’t know how to function when they move away. It’s a temporary solution, but it won’t help in the long run. To me, it seems that they’re running away from a difficult situation. I understand their response to the problem, but I don’t agree with it. Or perhaps I just don’t understand it well enough.

If you can shed any light on my many questions, please comment! (But you can comment even if you don’t have any answers!)

Thoughts on the First Half of AP Comp

It’s been pretty interesting so far…..

I’ve been loving all the writing assignments. My favorite was definitely the personal narrative. I love storytelling in general and I’m always looking for ways to become better at it, so this was a really fun assignment for me. I also really enjoying editing other people’s narratives, they were all very interesting to read (in a good way!) Aside from the narratives, the rest of the writing has been great as well. The critical analysis was different from anything I’ve ever written before, which was excellent. And the College Admission Essay, although I’m only a junior, was a good way to practice. Now I just need to make the corrections…

As far as the discussions in class, well, they’ve been interesting too. At least, that’s one word for it. Don’t get me wrong, opposing viewpoints are a good thing. Even arguing is acceptable to a certain extent. The only thing is, these heated discussions make the environment a little tense and make it difficult for others to jump in the conversation without fear of being ridiculed. I think maybe we all just need to take a nice deep breath.

The reading assignments have all been fascinating for the most part. I have to admit, Frederick Douglass lost me somewhere along the way, but the part I understood was definitely worthwhile. Actually, all our reading assignments have been worthwhile. They’ve been different and some are more interesting than others, but all have had at least one redeeming quality.

So the verdict is a good one. Parts of AP Comp are better than anticipated; some are just different from what I’d been expecting. But it’s going well and I’m enjoying it.

Thoughts from Thursday...

We had a rather heated discussion in class on Thursday about the use of the “n” word. I just wanted to throw my two cents into the heaping pile.

While we were arguing about who can use the word and whether or not it was ok to say it, things were somewhat chaotic. It seemed like everyone had an opinion, and most people were very strongly grounded in whatever theirs was. It wasn’t until after class that I was really able to take a step back and form my own opinion. The only thing I could really come up with was one question. Why would you want to call someone that? Regardless of whether you’re someone who “can” or whether its “ok,” why would you want to? It’s kind of like in kindergarten, when they would tell you, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Well, I think that still holds true now.

I do know that’s not the way most people think. Just take a walk down any hallway in our school and you’ll hear people swearing constantly. This probably won’t stop anytime soon. I’m just saying, though, that we should take a look at why we say the things we do, because they do have an effect on people. You shouldn’t say something unless you have a solid reason for it, and if it’s something cruel and insensitive, you just shouldn’t say it at all. Call me naïve and old fashioned, but it’s true. Just because something happens all the time doesn’t mean it should.

Why Math Tests are out to Get Me

It’s a Monday. There is no world in which a math test on a Monday is a good thing. Nevertheless, I studied all weekend and the time has come. Right before the test starts I run to the bathroom. Not thinking about anything except the dreaded upcoming exam, I open the door. And smack it right into my forehead. At first and can’t even contemplate what just happened. Then the blood rushes into my head and my eyes fill with tears. I can’t believe what I just did. How am I supposed to take this test with such a headache?

At this point I feel it necessary to state that I’ve never really enjoyed math tests, headache or no headache. Honestly, I don’t know many people who do. As the years progressed and the math grew more and more difficult, my dislike for them grew into more of a trepidation. This apprehension gets a jump start as soon as the teacher announces when the test is, about a week or so before it actually happens. After that, I’m able to put the dread away and focus on the myriad of other things going on. Even so, the night before the test inevitably arrives, and that’s when the real panic sets in. I didn’t study enough. I forgot how to do this problem. What if I totally fail? Through all of this detritus floating in my head, somehow I manage to sleep and escape for a few hours at least. Then in the morning, it’s back to the real world. I try hard to not think about it. I attempt to focus on what I’m doing right then. But all too soon, it’s time to go up to the third floor and tackle my nemesis.

On the particular day of the door debacle, the test doesn’t go as bad as I had feared it would. I got the test back on Tuesday, with a fat B+ at the top. Not perfect, but definitely acceptable. I’m actually feeling pretty happy. Then my teacher tells us. We have another math test on Friday. Oh, crap.

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish

Poor Bluie. Does he know what he is? I’m not going to attempt to understand the workings of little fishy minds here. I was little once. I had fish (still do, actually) and I found that they are impossible to comprehend (and they don’t really make good friends. Every time I tried to talk to them or “play” with them they shimmied away. So they may not have been the best pets ever.) Personally, I always wanted a cat. That’s why I feel bad for Bluie, and my fish too. They aren’t loved as exactly what they are, they’re loved and what we wish they were. Adam Gopnick says it this way, that Bluie was, “a fish passing as a hamster hoping to be a dog.” Therefore, it seems Olivia loved Bluie not because he was a fish but because he was a placeholder for the dog she wanted desperately. But is that really true? Maybe she grew to love him for what he really was, an itty bitty blue fish with a penchant for getting stuck in castle windows.

This brings me to another point, or another fish at least. Reddie. The villain fish. Or maybe just the jealous one. Every story has a villain and jealousy is a classic motive. Until last week though, I didn’t know it was a motive for fish! I thought it was absolutely genius the way Gopnick’s son decided that Reddie was the rogue of the story. Kids can be so smart and have such good ideas, I’m constantly reminded to be more like them. Their ideas can be so simple yet so creative. It’s truly amazing.

I guess my point is just that fish, like people, are complex. That they aren’t always as simple as they appear on the outside. It’s a lot to get from a short narrative about a couple fish, but that just shows that it’s possible to get so much from so little.

Thoughts on Lies

(For all of you not in 3rd block AP Comp, we read an article about lying to kids on Friday for our choice essay discussion time. Just in case you wondered.)

I was thinking about why parents lie to kids and I thought of a reason that we didn't read about. Parents lie to kids sometimes because they want their kids to admire and respect them. They also don’t always want their kids to do what they did. If your son asks you if you ever stole something from the grocery store, you’ll probably say no, even if you did, right? We don’t want our kids to make mistakes the way we did so we won’t admit to making the mistakes in the first place.

Wouldn’t it be better to tell them the truth, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did take a Hershey bar that one time,” and to tell them how guilty you felt afterwards than to pretend it never happened? They might learn more from someone who did something bad and learned their lesson from it than from someone faultless who they’re supposed to imitate.

If you always tell a child that you never made a mistake, that’s setting a pretty hard precedent for them to follow. Even though in reality, you weren’t as perfect as you tell them you were, they’ll still see you in that light. I think that if we were to tell them the truth, they’d be able to relate to us better and learn from us even more than just trying to be perfect. That’s just setting them up to fail, something no parent wants.

The things we lie about are not always going to be as simple as swiping a Hershey bar from the store shelf. What if your child asks you if you did drugs or had sex before marriage? What would you say? I don’t really know what the best thing to do is when that happens, probably to just tell the truth, but I’m not really sure. I definitely think we should start to contemplate that before we get asked, though.

So…to lie or not to lie? That is the question. A question that I don’t have a solid answer to. But in my opinion, when in doubt, tell the truth.