Skin Before Person

 ***Spoiler Alert***

Most of the time, background is all that matters. In books, everyone reads that people judge by who people are. That is not true. If it was true, the world would be fair. The guilty party would be found guilty in trials by evidence. Not as many people in history would have been tormented  because of at least one drop of African blood in them. There would not be as much prejudice and injustice in the world. In our reality, we only look for a person's background. Beyond that, no one really cares enough to stand up and oppose society. In To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee, the author reveals that the background is all always first before who the person is.

The author shows that the biggest offense can be someone's skin. In Tom Robinson's case, the jury took Mr. Ewell and his daughter's word over Tom Robinson's even though Atticus proved his innocence. He really made the jury think, because it took hours to decide who was the guilty party. In the end, those hours did not come to anything, because Tom was still found guilty for a crime he did not commit. Back in history, Emmett Till was killed all because he "whistled" at a white woman. Perhaps the woman's husband would be still angry if he found out someone whistled at his wife if that someone was white, but the fact is this boy was black. Since his skin was the biggest offense, this boy's life was ended violently.

Harper Lee reveals that it is always a white man's word over a black man's. The whole town seemed to know Tom Robinson was innocent, but no one really stood up. None of the jury was made up of anyone from Maycomb. In fact, the trial can easily be said it was unfair because the jury was made up of prejudiced people. So often is it that a white man  is believed to be right and the black man to be wrong. If it had not been for his background as a black man, he would have been found innocent.

In conclusion, the books shows that background is always looked at first before who the person is. Even to this day, many people are judged more for background than who they are. Perhaps it is less a matter of what nationality you are, but many people judge based on what they hear about a person rather than who they see in front of them. Someone's background cannot tell you who they are. Perhaps their past shows who they were before, but what about now? Can anyone just say who the person is now based on their past? Everything changes and people change.

Stop Growing!

Everyone feels the need to please. Doesn't everyone want to impress their peers? The urge is multiplied when the person you want to please is a role model. The most common role models are celebrities, older siblings, and sometimes parents. Many teenagers would probably role their eyes at the very idea of one day wanting to be just like their parents, but- in truth- most people grow up with many of their parents' qualities whether they like it or not. Either way, Jean Louise Finch (Scout)- in her Maycomb, Alabama world in the book To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee- is a girl who does not fit in with her neighbors and lives by her father's different principles. Her brother Jem has been her role model for a good deal of her life.

At one point, Atticus- Scout's father- was talking to a family member. He tells his brother or sister that Scout will soon be "better" since Jem has been maturing and that she usually follows his lead. Scout and Jem's relationship has always been one of mutual trust. Once Jem turns twelve- though- he has become like any other teenaged boy. He prefers sports. He thinks he can do whatever he pleases. He wants to be left alone. Most of all, isn't it sad when an oldest sibling pushes his younger sibling(s) away?

All of a sudden, Scout is being pushed away. Perhaps it is natural, but doesn't everyone feel upset or disappointed when someone they look up to so much pushes them away? Everyone works hard to win respect. Most of all, isn't it sad when you care so much for someone and they no longer show their affection? Scout and Jem have had so much fun together, making mischief. Does sibling love mean nothing?

Perhaps I have not reached my point quite yet, but doesn't growing up hurt? Every day, I look at my siblings- my brother Josh and my sister Jennah. Fine, maybe they are not older than me. Maybe my sister really is five and my brother followed me into the world only a year later. It does not matter: They both affect my life. Sometimes good; sometimes bad, but still I love them no matter how weird they are. Perhaps they are troublesome and sometimes, my wish is to yell at them to be quiet in a not-so-great way, but it bothers me to know that they are growing up. Momentarily, my only wish is to see my little sister not wipe off my kisses and not give me hugs like the social butterflies at school do. Trust me, social butterfly hugs are not sincere and yes, they do not kiss me either. Anyway, it hurts to see Jennah just shrug it all off and take it for granted. I know she has little boys at school to kiss too and many other people who will gladly offer her a hug. She, too, is a social butterfly after all, but I just cannot help but wonder if "my little sunshine" is pulling away from me. In this way, I am learning to understand my mom's position of watching my brother start to like girls, watching her little girl grow rapidly, and her eldest suffer through social issues. I cannot help but echo in my head and in my heart her words for not only myself and my siblings but for the whole world with a smile: Didn't I tell you to stop growing?

Personal Blog

Hey. For all who want to read my independent writing and see my perspective on the world, please, go to my personal blog (that I have just set up!):
dearlife98.blogspot.com

Let's Talk About Our Mockingjay(EC)

I just finished reading Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. It is about a girl named Katniss Everdeen- who originally was in the Hunger Games in the first book and is now caught up in a revolution sparked by herself. She never planned it though- despite the fact her face is the face of the revolution- and instead she is being manipulated by both sides- rebels and the Capitol. Everyone had been talking about how great or how terrible Katniss is and it seemed like a good idea to bring my thoughts out on the subject also.

Well, Katniss is real. The type person she is is real. She feels deeply, but like so many people she has to use others to survive. Everything- ever since time began- was pretty much all about survival of the fittest. Everyone is for himself. That is the point of evolution. As the book itself says, no one survived by being compassionate. There is always competition. If a bird just lets another eat all the seeds, that bird is not likely to survive.

It isn't right to use people for someone's own benefit. In fact, everyone should be helping one another so everyone can survive, but the world just does not work that way. Katniss used Peeta to receive gifts from sponsers. The bright side is she didn't just do it for herself; she was trying to save Peeta too. From the start, she seemed to care about him since he gave her the bread when her family was starving. The Career packs in each Hunger Games also depended on one another to stay alive. They shared the supplies and hunted down the weaker tributes together.

Going back to the idea Katniss cares deeply, most people don't. Her attitude and personality do not always show it, but she does. Since most people don't usually care so deeply, it really means something about Katniss. She is often worried about Peeta in this book, because she knew the Capitol captured him and it would torture him. I can relate to Katniss; I care very much about the people around me. A couple friends this year seemed to be telling me- indirectly- to change. They never liked it when I started crying because I was overwhelmed by emotions. They never liked it when fretted so much about them. One of my friends told me I was very self-centered. Well, does anyone like me better?! Whatever I was then, I must be the opposite now! At this point, I don't really care about anything. All my friends aren't my real friends. In other words, I don't have any friends now. What is the point in caring if no one wants me to? It sure wasn't for my benefit! If anything it hurt- which is also why I can relate to Katniss. At the end of it all, pretty much everyone gave up on her- so it seemed anyway. Everyone went off on their own leaving Katniss in her grief. It says something else too. I remember one of my former friends telling me "the teachers you expect to care don't." Well, it doesn't just apply to teachers. It applies to many people. So my answer is Katniss is real. Perhaps she isn't great and she isn't terrible, but she is the sort of person who lives in our world.

Human Trafficking

This article- Financers and Sex-Trafficking by Nicholas D. Kristof - is obviously about human trafficking. It about the role of financers on a private, sex-trafficking organization called Village Voice Media. Recently, the governor of Washington State just "signed a bill into law" that would reveal Backpage- the organization's website for advertising- to criminal sanctions if it advertises under-age girls for sex without verifying their ages.

The author is trying to talk about what is going on with this main organization for trafficking. Honestly, human trafficking should not be happening. It shows just by how the main owner- Goldman Sachs- was trying to sell shares of company once he realized the writer was inquiring about the organization. Anyone would be embarrassed if someone was asking about something they were not supposed to be doing. Selling young girls and women into slavery? It isn't right. The author reveals that human trafficking is wrong.

To me, somehow lack of freedom of your own body is worse than the slavery all the way back in history. Sure, yeah, at least people are not being forced into laboring over plantations, but in a way.... It's still the same. Young women are still beat up when they do not do what they are told. They are selling their bodies. Sex is really only meant to be something between a person and his spouse. Only a person should share it with his spouse and not anyone else. I always feel uncomfortable when people talk about sex so casually. Forget about sex; I can't even talk about boys with my parents! It shows I am obviously not ready for it (and yes, I do believe in abstinence). But girls younger than I am are going through this!

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/01/opinion/sunday/kristof-financers-and-sex-trafficking.html?_r=1&ref=nicholasdkristof#

You Are My Sunshine

Everyone seems to like all these "cool" songs. They all think a simple song has no meaning. Everyone will probably laugh when they realize the song chosen for this post. "My Little Sunshine" by Anne Murray is about keeping a smile on your face and, naturally, the sun. It also can be about a person the speaker loves. It is interesting how much it can be interpreted.

Anyone can assume the poet means actual sunshine. "You make me happy/ when skies are gray," (Chorus, lines 3-4). Every child loves playing- especially outside. When the sun is hidden behind large, menacing clouds and rain pores down, no one can go out to play. There are some exceptions, but most parents are not likely to allow their children out in the rain. Even if the sky is gray, all anyone needs is the sun to be out or for the sun to begin a new day- for children to go out and play.

"Sunshine" can be a form of endearment. "You Are My Sunshine/ My only sunshine/....Please don't take my sunshine away," (Chorus, lines 1-2 and 7) There are many forms of endearment. Some I cannot quite understand. Why would a mother call her child "pumpkin"? Evidently, her child is not a pumpkin and also how is a pumpkin, in any way, supposed to be adorable? I sing the chorus all the time with my little sister. Now and then, I call her my "sunshine" because I loved her since before the time she was born. That was pretty much one of the first times I was sure I knew love's definition. I have always felt distant from everything, so it is hard decipher my emotions sometimes- more now than ever. Right now, sometimes I could be crying in frustration and I would be laughing. I have no idea what my face tells people, but I know they probably have a better idea of what I am feelings from the looks I give than I know myself at times. Anyway, I knew for a fact I loved my "little sunshine" and I know I never want someone take her away from me.

Letting Go and Forgetting

http://www.internal.org/Robert_Frost/Ghost_House

Everyone feels haunted when someone dies. They see the deceased in dreams and in their thoughts. Many can never seem to let go. Their loved ones are dead; they need to move on. It is the most heartbreaking action to do sometimes: letting go. In Ghost House by Robert Frost, the tone is filled with beauty, yet longing, loneliness, and sorrow as it describes a lonely house with two ghosts haunting it. His poems are usually hard to understand at first, but even when the reader cannot understand the words, it's the fluency and the beautiful imagery that draws them in. Usually, ghosts are supposed to be scary, but somehow, the reader cannot help feeling for them as well as the speaker. Robert Frost shows in his poem the pain of living without someone.

How can anyone live without a loved one? This question comes up much of the time in today's books. The Hunger Games, the Twilight series.... The one piece of literature anyone's mind goes immediately to is William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. Both Romeo and Juliet believe they cannot live without one another and because of their families have been enemies since who knows when, they kill themselves. Most people do not realize the idea of being rational. Many would agree with Lady Capulet in saying "Therefore have done. Some grief shows much of love;/ But much of grief shows still some want of wit," (3.5 73-74) In other words, although grieving shows a great amount of love, it also shows some need to see reason : There is no way tears can bring a loved one back. The whole poem gives a sense of how the speaker's world has fallen apart. "And left no trace but the cellar walls,/ And a cellar in which the daylight falls...." The poem is pretty much made up of symbols. The speaker makes it sound like he has no life beyond this house of ruins, making the house reflect his world.

One of the pains is when people forget while others remember. When people do not remember, how can they support others? Everyone needs to remember what pains the person to be able to help. "I dwell with a strangely aching heart/ In that vanished abode there far apart/ On that disused and forgotten road...." In these lines, it shows that the speaker's world is far from everyone else's, but also they have forgotten the pain. Their worlds have not fallen apart as his has. Everyone forgets so easily because they do not feel the pain as much. If anyone ever loved, they would feel broken. This is why it is so easy for them to forget and move on with their lives.

Robert Frost shows in his poem the pain of living without someone. Any person's world can fall apart at the loss of a loved one. Many people today are never the same after someone's death. The person may have not have been of much importance in their life before, but everyone is affected. The only difference between someone truly broken and just anyone is that the person who is broken will remember and the just anyone can forget. With all this, I have to go back to my experience with suicide on my mind. I have no doubt everyone does not wish to hear about it, but I told my mom about my suicidal thoughts. Anyone have any clue what she said? She said she would never be the same if I died. I know for a fact that this is true. My mother has always tried to protect me (from the Board of Ed., my dad, false friends taking advantage of me) and whenever her children are unhappy, so is she. My mother would not easily forget, but I have no doubt almost everyone else will mourn my loss for awhile(Maybe not even.) and then forget me.

Speak For What You Believe In

http://www.good.is/post/a-13-year-old-s-slavery-analogy-raises-some-uncomfortable-truths-in-school/?fb_ref=rightrail

This article is called A 13-Year-Old's Slavery Analogy Raises Some Uncomfortable Truths in School by Liz Dwyer. It is about a thirteen-year-old (eighth grade) girl named Jada Williams- who wrote an essay of The Narrative of the Life of Fredrick Douglass. Jada wrote about how Douglass heard his slave owner (Mr. Auld) tell his wife, "'If you teach that nigger how to read, there will be no keeping him. It will forever unfit him to be a slave. He would at once become unmanageable, and of no value to his master."' This was after Mr. Auld found his wife teaching Douglass to write. After that- supposedly- Jada connected this to today by saying that "overcrowded, poorly managed classrooms prevent real learning from happening and thus produces the same results as Mr. Auld's outright ban." She wrote how most of the students at her school were Black and Hispanic while very few teachers are of color, allowing them to be in a "position of power to dictate what I can, cannot, and will learn, only desiring that I may get bored because of the inconsistency and the mismanagement of the classroom." As a result, both teachers and administrators became offended and started harrassing her.

Just like with my science current events, I expected the article to be very dull and hold no interest for me. It reminds me how everyone at school always jokes about people being racist and just about races in general. Most people don't take it seriously. People's nationalities are nothing to joke about. In history, there were many issues involving people of color and all people do now is make a joke out of people's struggle for rights. Not just politically, but also just rights of being a human. I can assure none of it is a joke. It gives the sense people neither understand nor say what they believe anymore. They don't stand up for what they believe in.

Jada Williams was brave for writing such an essay when she knew everyone would see it since it was for a contest. If harrassment is a joke, go on a laugh! I see many people laugh away all the time. Do they ever wonder if it's more than just something to laugh at?! To push aside carelessly?! Does anyone take anything seriously anymore?! Many people, I know, care very much about everything, but they pretend not to. They focus on what they believe is worth their time. Often, whatever it is isn't. Think about what is worthwhile: having fun all the time or doing something that will be meaningful?

All the time people at school will do things like pretend to steal someone's pen or will lie to a teacher about honework. It just makes me wonder: Do they ever have any shame. Don't they ever feel terrible when lying to someone? For me, I lie and the second I say it, I feel bad. In general, whenever I do something I feel is wrong.... I know before I do it, it is wrong, but I do it anyway and feel sorry right away. Sometimes, I feel like I can never even bare to be seen by the person I'm so sure I did wrong to. I try to forget and years later, you know above all my happy memories I wanted to hold on to.... I remember my most embarrassing and humiliating moments. I'm not afraid to say them either. To be honest, I know no one will want my long list.

No one should be afraid for saying what they believe in. I have a huge gift in being able to write all my feelings out on paper. Most people would never want to voice their thoughts and problems or write them down where they can be seen by anyone. My opinion now is that I don't care! I want people to read my writing- even if it is personal. I mean, yeah, I'm not just going to lay out my diary for the whole world to see, but you know? Speak for what you believe in, because then not only are you not alone, but you are letting people understand.

Decisions, Decisions

****Do you mind a spoiler???****

Everyday, people make decisions for others. What should really happen is a person should choose what he wants himself. In Emma by Jane Austen, Emma Woodhouse is perfect in every way. She is beautiful, well-educated, has a good fortune and surrounded by good society. She is also good in the way she is very caring. The only problems are she was brought up with pride and having her own way. Her favorite pastime is match-making. She often puts her terrible skills to work to match the people of her acquaintance. It all seemed to work out very well pretty much until she decided to make her last match between her friend Harriet Smith and the town's vicar- Mr. Elton. Harriet Smith is quite pretty, but no one knows of her relations- her family. Back then, relations were very important in society and often meant each person was ranked by that. A brother of Ms. Smith's schoolmates- Mr. Martin- is madly in love with her and Emma convinced her friend she was above the love of a respectable farmer. Harriet never saw anything wrong with marrying Mr. Martin before. In fact, it seemed as if she liked him very much until Emma convinced her otherwise.

Harriet Smith could do no better than marrying a good farmer. No one would even wish to marry someone without the knowledge of whose family she belongs to. It would have brought shame on them. It was an advantage for Harriet, but Emma had to interfere. There is no chance of a better offer of marriage. Why did Emma have to interfere? Emma obviously does not know about the situation enough and shouldn't Harriet make her own decisions? It is her life- not Emma's.

To be honest, it is not all Emma's fault. Harriet was begging for advice. She is not a strong character and can easily be swayed from anything. One of the problems is how much Emma has the need to help. Many people do, but sometimes what they think if right isn't. It seems as if Emma made many errors, because later in the book, it turns out Ms. Smith was not the object of his interest. In fact, it was Emma. Throughout the book, she continues to misunderstand everything. Later on, she believes Harriet is in love with one man when she is quite attached to her friend Mr. Knightly.

That's what happens when people misunderstand though. They mess up and it can be a lot of damage. Everyday, people let others choose for them, but how do those people know everything?

Importance of Inner Thoughts

I have never read the Hunger Games series, but I wanted to write a response on the movie. The Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins) is about this game of survival in which two kids picked from each of the twelve districts compete- a matter of life or death. There is only one winner. Katniss' sister was actually picked, but being the sort of person she is, Katniss volunteered to represent District 12. Honestly, it was not that good. One of the aspects is the fact no one has any idea what Katniss is thinking.

You can probably figure it out, but you cannot tell her actual thoughts unless you read the book. Throughout the book, there is complication. Did she feel betrayed when Peeta- the other person from her district- was one of the people helping others to kill her? Was she actually willing to die so she and Peeta wouldn't have to choose- between them who would live and would die- or was it all part of her plan so they both have to live and be the two winners? A lot of this you have to really think hard about to even make a good guess.

The reason it isn't that good is mostly because you have to read the book to fully understand. I still don't understand. You could not see any real character development mostly because you did not know what was going on inside Katniss' head. Really, it has to be shown in some way, because Katniss is not the type of person to say everything on her mind. The whole time, she seemed almost emotionless and a little cold. It's more as if we're seeing what's going on from the other characters' perspectives. We see her as this somewhat cold and very silent person. There are only small moments where you can see how much she truly cares.

Technology! Money! Don't you see what is important?

I am- still- reading Great Expections by Charles Dickens. It is a hard book- I have to carry around a dictionary whenever I read it so I understand what it is saying- and a long one as well. So do NOT criticize me. As was mentioned before, this is about a poor boy called Pip who lives in England who unexpectantly becomes the heir of a large fortune(All those people who do not understand, it means a great amount of property and money). He, in my opinion, is much like other people- proud- but he has a wonderful quality- being loving. Pip is to be in society(among the people of power and money) and he must learn all the proper ways of living rich. What I have noticed is how he still does not understand what should be valued and what should not. It may  seem you have nothing, but- in fact- you could have everything if you only understood.

In a much earlier post, I talked about how gifts are unsatisfying.Well, they are. You could have the best and newest technology, but never be satisfied with them. Maybe it is because you are looking for the wrong thing. To bring my religion into the scheme of things, I heard a sermon more recently. The reverand was saying how kids do not want the toys: They want to be with the parents and to be loved. We are given so much we do not deserve, yet we are still unsatisified.

Do you know what we are looking for? We are looking for love- for happiness. All those beautiful parts of life. No one can receive those things by gifts. You have to understand what those gifts mean. You have to understand what you already have. Pip- he had dreams of being just like his brother-in-law(Joe). He wanted to be a blacksmith and he wanted to be the same, kind creature Joe is. You know what now? Now, he is in society and he is ashamed of Joe and his past.

That is natural. I am sure you and I have also been this way too. We reach something "better" and then we lose the knowledge of why what we had before was good. Let me tell you something: Even when something is hard- whether it be poverty for Pip or something as small as homework trouble- there is good. I think this is one of the best lessons I have learned this year. There is hope and there is faith. Faith is believing in something you cannot see. Well, you cannot see the future, so faith does not only apply to only religion. Just believing something good will happen is faith.

Anyway, Pip had something beautiful in his poor village. He had friendship and now.... He is ashamed of it and all because there is nothing "proper" about his friends, his past, and his village. Joe and Biddy helped him through thick and thin. Biddy was his confident and Joe was his old friend. All because Joe is poor and cannot read and speak like rich people, he is ashamed of him. He chooses to appease people he does not even like! Pip is like any other person: He wants people to like him.The problem is everyone loses sight of what is important- not money, not technology. They do not satisify you. What does is friendship.

Why Die For Desperation?

I honestly could not stand to talk about all those movie details. I just over look them. I am not, in that way, my father's daughter. "Oh, the camera work was terrible. The lighting wasn't good. Blah, blah, blah."

For me, I thought more about the theme. Okay, so I will start my intro- even though you guys should already know what it is about. Romeo and Juliet is about these two lovers Romeo and Juliet(hence the name) who fall in love at first sight- but whose noble families are enemies. Since they can never be together, they take their lives. They actually take their lives because they each believe the other is dead and believed they could not live without one another. In the play, neither ever actually realizes the other is not actually dead. Juliet does not wake up while Romeo takes the potion. In fact, she sees him dead by her resting place and takes his dagger and kills herself. I always thought it was kind of pathetic how they just killed themselves for love.

Sure, I like the play. I love poetry. Honestly, I just felt like they could have lived without each other. Perhaps not as happily as before when they had each other, but they each could have. Love is wonderful, but it is also painful. All the time, a person loves someone and he or she gets rejected. It happens all the time. And, yes, liking someone at first sight is natural too. It does not happen to me usually, but you know.... It is normal for some people.

For goodness sake, they did not even actually fully know each other! How can you just die because someone you hardly know dies? (If someone jumps off a cliff, do you do the same?) Yeah, I encourage taking sacrifices for people you love and such, but taking your life because you are desperate? That is not what I believe. Whether it is based on my individual thoughts or on my religion, I do not believe in it. To be honest, if I was Juliet, I probably would have married Paris. How does she even know she will not be happy with him?

Your Worth

*Suggestion: If you don't want me to ruin the book for you, please do not read. If you don't mind, please proceed.*

I'm reading Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. In England, Pip is a poor, orphaned boy living with his older sister and her husband- Mrs. and Mr. Joe Gargery. All his life, he has suffered by Mrs. Joe "bringing him up by hand." After the first time, he went to visit Miss Havisham and her neice Estella at the Manor House, he found himself so "common". I found this one moment of truth with Joe after he returned from the visit very beautiful. He lied about his visit, talking about how extravagent the place is. In fact, it was a place of eeriness and sorrow. By Estella's critisisms, he saw everything in a lower light. Now all he has known is no longer beautiful to him.

I find the fact he thought he was so common meant he wanted to stand out. Just by the fact how hard he is trying to learn as much as possible shows so. It hurts when you feel ordinary. Don't you want to stand out among the crowd? If there is nothing special, what is your worth? Nothing. Do you really want to be nothing? Nobody does. This is the reason why so many people put so many pains into being unique. When you have no worth- no purpose- what do you do? Some people commit suicide.

Do you ever think about suicide? Do you ever wonder why people do it? It is because they see no purpose in the world and their lives. I would be lying if I said I never think about suicide. During the past year, I was going through some emotional trouble and such. I did not see much good in the world and myself. No one ever wanted to be around me really. It seemed like my own friend saw it. Instead of helping me, I had a feeling she wanted to hang out with people more interesting than me. If no one saw anything in me, was I worth nothing? I once talked to my dad about my messy room. Some people think something is a mess, but others call "that mess" art. Did this apply here too? I did not really seem to think so. My opinion was what mattered most. What if I thought the same? I can tell you, I never think of myself in the highest light. This is one of the problems with feeling ordinary. What is your purpose if you are not special?

Dove-Being Free

I found this piece interesting. I found it on the Museum of Modern Art's online site. The first thought that entered my head was obviously the fact it was a bird in flight. At first, I thought of Noah and the Ark. Noah sent out a dove to find land and how it came back the second time with an olive branch. It also reminded me of being free. These days, I think very much about peace, joy, and "being free" from the world and my feelings.

Being free can mean having rights. Just the small fact the dove was black instead of white caught my attention. Honestly, aren't doves usually white? It just reminds me of slavery and such. I find there are many kinds of freedom. The freedom I see so little of is freedom of expressing yourself. So many insecure people try to act "cool". Even in Europe so many years ago- early 1800s- people discouraged being too open about emotions. They were often polite and maybe a little cold when upset, but they never really expressed freely how they hated someone or something. People of the higher class were expected to be polite. In fact, the less they showed of personal feelings, often the more agreeable they were to society. More people these days are more open, but people still hold back because of what other people would think.

When you hold everything back, you bottle everything in. I have no idea how people do it. Sure, I do it, but I always reach the exploding point eventually- pretty often. Being free means being able to express yourself without worrying how people think of you. Being free means expressing how you feel. Pretty recently- last week to be specific- I completely exploded. I was having friendship problems, and just everything was piling up. I don't know if it was hormones or not, but I do know I had bottled up all of my emotions for the last couple years within myself. It all has to come out some way or other. If you express yourself and let it out more regularly, it will not come out too painfully. That is one of the problems: No one is ever really free.

All Star Blog Post Belongs to....

Truthfully, I was a bit confused on whose to choose, because I actually would write about all of them- if it was possible. Truthfully, I might have even picked my own if that were possible too(because I pity myself far too much).  My own writing tends to be creative and long because I hate leaving out all that good stuff. Well, I picked Alex's (http://fsab2011.blogspot.com/2011/12/jack-gantos-mistakes-into-sucess.html) because this post is very thoughtful and makes you think a bit deeper than what meets the eye. Most of the time, you just take certain things in life for granted. "Oh, well, that person is crazy because they're doing this and only someone out of his right mind would do that!" Truthfully, I tend to be that way too. That is called being narrow-minded. Alex does not qualify under the narrow-minded category.

In Alex's blog post, Jack Gantos: Mistakes into Success, he talks about Jack Gantos' autobiography. Jack, apparently, did a bunch of crimes just so he could move along with his life. Just through small bits, Alex found meaning. I thought it was interesting how he sort of took all those "meanings" and he put them together at the end. I was not exactly sure where he was leading to. I, honestly, had to guess what he was leading up to. I did not fully understand until I read it a second time. What I really think is: his work has a certain structure where he takes everything one at a time before putting the puzzle pieces together.

When you love someone, you put them before yourself.

***Beware the Spoilers!***

I am toward the end of Girls in Pants The Third Summer of the Sisterhood by Ann Brashares- the third book of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. It is the same characters- Lena, Bridget, Carmen, Tibby. This summer is their last one before they go off to college. There is all sorts of trouble with heading off to college: Not wanting to leave home, the disapproval of parents, change, facing your problems. I think I had a connection with Carmen- whose mother has recently remarried and is having another child.

Carmen and I are very different people. Where she is temperamental and complaining, I am timid and accepting. What we do have in common is our desire to make our loved ones happy. Although she loves her mother very much and her mother Christina loves her just as much, Carmen believes Christina will no longer love her once the baby is born. She believes there will not be a place left for her in their family after she leaves college. Her immediate solution was to get into a college close to home instead of the one of her choice.

It reminds me of two things- when my baby sister was born and my relationship with my mom. When my little sister was born, it never came to mind there would ever be a reason my mother would not love me anymore. I guess that is the thing about being a single child(Carmen is a single child- or rather was): Your parent's or parents' attention is more focused on you than when you have siblings. When there is another child in the family, you feel like all the attention will go to the new addition. In my case, I first became a big sister when I was only fifteen months old- obviously not enough time to really think about that sort of thing.

Unlike most teenagers, I have a good relationship with my mom. Not just a mother-daughter relationship, but also a friendship. In the second book, Carmen sacrificed her happiness to let her mother be happy. With my mom, I understand why she is the way she is and I try to help her. Loving someone means sarcificing for them. My sister once said each of us- my family- had a week off(We didn't). Since my dad was not there, my brother, my mom and I decided to split his week. We all came up with different combinations. My final combination was my brother would get 2 days, my mom 4, and me 1. Good, right? Yes, in real life, I would in fact let my mom have that many days and maybe more, because she really needs more than 4 days of relaxation. My point in this paragraph is that when you love someone, you put them before yourself, sacrificing your happiness for their needs.

Looking at a thing is different from seeing a thing.

I started reading The Second Summer of the Sisterhood(The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants #2) by Ann Brashares. The sisterhood consists of four very different friends with complicated lives. Bridget is trying to learn more about her deceased mother and past from her grandmother under a name other than her own. Carmen is facing more parent trouble since her mom started dating again. Tibby is making a movie while avoiding the reality of a friend's death. Lena is hiding from love. Well, I wanted to talk about Bridget- currently spending her summer in Alabama.

The summer before, Bridget fell in love at soccer camp. Unfortunately, the guy rejected her, causing her to give up soccer. Her appearence had changed also. From blond and thin to brunette and somewhat.... thick. No one can recognize her as the person she once was. In Alabama, I think she is trying to follow Tibby's advice by trying to find the girl she wants to be again. Everything in her grandmother's neighborhood is familiar- the people, the scenery. No one there really sees her though.

This reminds me of this one quote from Ideal Husband. "Looking at a thing is different from seeing a thing" as Mabel says. When you look at something, you do not necessarily see who the person is. You only judge based on appearence when you look at a person. By looking at them, you cannot know what sort of person they are. By seeing the person, you know what sort of personality they have and just who they are!

In the book, no one recongnizes Bridget because they do not look at her beyond her dark hair and how active she is. Her old soccer teammates see her as the girl at the sidelines cheering them on. Her grandmother sees her as the girl working for college money. They do not see her as their Bridget- the bold, energetic girl who ran the fastest and played the hardest. If they really got to know her, they would know who she was.

It reminds me too much of how everyone grows up. It reminds me of how I changed in appearence and a little in personality. Deep down, each person still possesses who they once were. Yet no one ever looks beyond looks. No one ever sees. I just feel like more people have to look beyond the surface. The cover cannot tell you everything. It can only tell you what is shown on it- not in it.

Dreamers vs. Pesamists

In my book Tangled by Carolyn Mackler, there are four different characters with their own stories which intertwine. I wanted to talk about Jena- who lives in Topeka, New York. Jena is a hyper but smart girl who longs to experience love. She dreams so much about it and collects tiny bits of other people's exciting lives. The first thing I noticed about Jena was how she always thought about one boy at her school. She dreamed of her future with him.

There is nothing wrong with dreaming. The only problem is dreaming too much. Everyone needs to have dreams of what they plan to do, but they also need to know when their heads are too far into the clouds. Jena is one of those people who dreams too much. She does not even realize until she gets hurt! Dreams are good for inspiration, but they can blind you from reason. This was how Jena- much like many girls- was hurt. They see what they want to see, and then people take advantage of their dreams and crush them.

I often see people like Jena around me. They have high hopes and then when they are unable- or at least do not seem able- to happen.... They become depressed and unhappy. This is why I do not believe in love- why I do not believe in dreams I think will never happen. For me, I see it mostly with love. At school, so many people date, but it only lasts for a short while. My guess is probably because the people they choose may not necessarily go well with them. I also think it is because there is no such thing as "true love", as people put it.  Most of all, I do not believe I will find anybody.

Either way, you can get hurt. Jena is hurt by falling for someone who in the end treats her badly. I am hurt by not believing I can be able to do something. This is why being somewhere between the two is best. It is good to be determined and ambitious as well as realistic, but terrible to be blinded by dreams and doubt of not being able to do something.

We Are Our Best and Harshest Critics

In The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank, Anne still hopes there will be an end to World War II. She still has hope she and her family will be safe from the Germans and have a future. Anne hopes to be a writer. Writing helps her think and relax. It also helps her remember. Anne is also her own greatest critic.

This reminds me of how we reflect on ourselves. Does anyone ever believe they are perfect? Well, no- unless there is something wrong with your head. No one is perfect and there is always room for improvement. We each know this above everyone else because we see our mistakes most. This means we tend to judge them most.

This entry reminds me of myself. I am my best- and harshest- critic. I criticise myself more than anyone- despite the fact I was born into a family of perfectionists(Haha. Perfectionist Christians. Excellent. How can that work? Christians are supposed to be patient and such). Anyway, we each see our mistakes and most of all.... Each person knows him/herself better than other people and he/she is the one going through his/ her situation. It means they know more behind their actions. Therefore, we know more of what we did right or wrong and what we need to improve on.

My Picture Book Draft

Picture Book Draft

Jacqueline Wong 806

Page #1

I watched silently from where I sat on the bench with eyes full of sympathy. The sight was terrible to see, but what could I do? No one ever listened to me. I was always the outsider of a group of people, forced to cope with everything. Who really wanted to listen to me anyway? Certainly, no one would listen if I tattled, telling how perfect Calley was bullying a weak, frightened version of the proud Duchess. Besides, cats got away with everything and anything. Everyone believed they were superior to dogs- which made all I had to say even less meaningful.

Calley stood over her with a terrifying scowl. She gripped a doll by the hand, holding it out of Duchess’ reach. The doll had curly, dark locks framing her fair-skinned face. Its eyes were a pair of shiny, green pools of sea. The doll’s dress was a deep blue with sparkling, silver stars. It was the kind of doll most female dogs could only press their pathetic faces with longing to the glass window of a toy shop. I remembered Duchess bragging during class about how her doting mother bought the best and most expensive doll for her beloved daughter. “Do you want it back or not?” demanded Calley.

Page #2

Duchess shook her perfect, pink head, too frightened to think up a better answer. Even from my distance, the salty tears in her anxious eyes were visible. Of course, no one could tell Calley “no.” Maybe I was wrong. “I’ll give it to you….” said Calley, hesitating purposely and feigning a thoughtful look. I saw Duchess’ dark eyes brighten with innocent excitement and naïve hope. “If you do whatever I say.”

Duchess’ expression became genuinely thoughtful, trying to decide whether or not she wanted the doll back enough to put herself in Calley’s hands. “Hurry up and decide!” barked Calley, lifting the beautiful doll high in order to smash it to the ground.

I bit my bottom lip. I could not bear to see this once proud dog face her doom. I hurriedly stood from my bench, beginning to walk away from the scene. My retreat was not fast enough, because I could still hear Duchess desperately plea, “No, please! I’ll do whatever you say!”

Page #3

I started walking home from school when I came across a young dog. She was sitting on the ground with her face buried in her paws. Her badly cut coat was covered in dirt and a red liquid I knew only too well. The wounded dog’s body shook with sobs and sniffles. I heard her whisper into her clawing paws, clearly ashamed. I turned away, knowing this was a private moment.

Page #4

            Before I could take a step, I heard a trembling voice softly whisper my name. “Bucket?” I looked over my shoulder to see the dog. With shock, I realized who it was. “Duchess?” I gasped. With all the blood and dirt on her once perfect coat, I did not recognize her. The broken nails on her paws were filled with grime. From her nose, a steady stream of blood ran its course down to her scraped chin, and black and blue bruises covered her soft cheeks.

Page #5

            “Bucket?” she said in a voice even more violent with trembling tears. “Did you…. Did you see what happened?” I felt my face burn with shame. Her eyes were shiny with insistent tears. I could not look at her. She always seemed proud and spoiled to me- traits I found the worst in any animal. I always had to put up with her because her kind mother was close friends with my own and since my oblivious parents completely adored her. Somehow, her tears and pain washed away all her bad traits, leaving her as a scared, innocent pup.

            I felt her gaze on my face, waiting desperately for my answer. “Yes,” I confessed at last. I did not want to see her outraged reaction, but I also just needed to see it. Tears flowed from her eyes like rivers- always abundant with water. I could read so many emotions in those pits of darkness; anger, pain, disbelief….

Page #6

            I started to wonder if Duchess would fall into a violent crying fit again. Just as I was sure she would run off sobbing, angry words I could barely understand bubbled from her once proud tongue. “You…. You saw all of it and d-did n-nothing? You saw her t-torment and b-beat m-m-me! Y-you saw her m-make a f-fool out of m-me! W-what kind of f-friend are you?”

            If there was not as much blubbering, I would have yelled back at her. I might have even considered slapping those irrational emotions off her face. Her outraged words seemed so full of weakness. The word “friend” stopped me short. Duchess thought I was her friend? How could that be? “I’m sorry,” I whispered- for once sincerely feeling that way toward her. I can tell you I said many apologies to her, but never one was as sincere as this one.

            “Sorry isn’t enough!” exclaimed Duchess. With that, she turned away and ran off. I watched with pity as she grew smaller in the distance until she had vanished from sight.

Page #7

That night, my mother came to tuck me into bed. A silent look of concern and anxiety was on her face. “What’s wrong, Mom?” I asked as she pulled the covers up to my chin.

She sighed a gust of air, taking a seat on the edge of my bed. “Your friend Duchess was beaten by one of those cats at your school.“ My tired body forgot all about its large amount of exhaustion and tensed at Duchess’s name. Did she tell my mother about me- about how I did nothing? Naturally, she would. Duchess loved tattling on me. Why should this time be different? The major problem was my mother always believed her.

“What happened?” I asked, studying her. I tried desperately to decode her quiet expression. I had to know what she was thinking.

Page #8

            My mother shook her head, not meeting my eyes.” The cat took the new doll Amber-“ Duchess’ mother “-gave her and used the beautiful thing to manipulate Duchess. She promised to give it back if Duchess did as she said, and Duchess complied. She did some actions as ‘favors’- some of which offended other cats- including your teacher. You know how dangerous that is; they beat her.  At last, the cat cut off tuffs of her coat and gave her a final beating, leaving her on the street with the destroyed doll.” She lifted her paw to wipe away a tear from her eye. “She immediately ran away in tears.”

            The story made my eyes sting with tears of my own. I could never have prevented Calley from inflicting such pain on Duchess. Even if I tried, it would never make the difference for Duchess. We would only both be beaten! What was the point of that?! I would never- could never make a difference. How could I make the difference? Dogs like me never were heard.

            The pain of my helplessness was too much then and too much now. I always had the need to break down in tears and cry like an infant. The whole world was against me- my parents, my siblings, my school- and I was no match for it all.

Page #9

            The next morning, I sat at the noisy table with my family. My mother walked about the kitchen in her busy way. Her white coat fresh and clean as always. My father sat at the table with his nose in the newspaper. He had his left paw around a mug of coffee. Every other minute, he lifted the mug to his mouth, taking a sip. My older brother Wendell wolfed down his sausages and pancakes, and my little sister Fluffy….

            She was the only one not in place. Fluffy stared at me with innocent eyes. Even as my mother placed a plate of breakfast in front of her, she continued to watch me. Her breakfast was a ghost, unseen. It made me wonder if she knew what really happened. I shook the ridiculous thought from my head. How could she know? She was not even there!

            “Morning, Bucket,” she said, pleasantly. I gave her a smile which I hoped did not look uneasy. Little pups could smell fear, as they say.

Page #10

            “How was yesterday?” Fluffy inquired. She always asked about my day. I always found it weird. Why did she want to hear about my day? At the same time, I was always grateful for her great amount of curiosity about how I was. Usually, no one besides her even bothered asking. Each day was the same as the next to outsiders- which included the entire planet except me.

            “Fine,” I said flatly. For once, I wished she would stop asking. I turned away to let her know I did not desire having a conversation. My gaze fell to the pieces of pancake I had cut. I held the fork in my paw- a piece of pancake on the edge. My paw let my fork wander about the plate as if it had a mind of its own; I was not interested in eating.

            “How was Duchess?” Fluffy asked. I could feel her dark gaze on my face, burning a hole in it.

            “Not very well,” I replied. I have to say I was never a good liar. I could not get away with anything. There really was no point in lying.

Page #11

I listened to the silence between us. She was waiting for me to elaborate. At last I gave in, not wanting the silence to go on for all eternity. “She was beaten by a cat at school.”

I looked up at Fluffy. Naturally, I would expect her to be wide-eyed and all, but my words had no effect on her besides the eruption of more curiosity. “Did you see it?” she asked. She always knew the right questions. I offered her a tentative nod. Again, Fluffy patiently waited for me to say more than I wished to say.

I sighed. “I didn’t help her,” I said, half-expecting my parents to start scolding me. My father looked up from his engaging newspaper and started talking to my mother about Wendell’s terrible eating habits. Somehow, I wished they would scold me, so I would at least know I was not always unheard.

The agitating Fluffy gave me a small smile. “What are you going to do?” There was no trace of laughter in her quiet smile.  I always found it strange how she was one of those very few kids that never laughed. Then again, I never laughed that much either.

Page #12

            “I can’t do anything to help her,” I said hysterically. “No one cares about what I say.”  With these words, I looked down at my plate, feeling hot tears fill my eyes, clouding my vision. “I have no voice in anything. Why should it matter what I have to say if I don’t have a voice anyone will care to listen to.”

            “Make them listen,” Fluffy insisted. Her smile grew and tears filled her own dark eyes. There was so much gentle patience on her face- too much for a child of seven years. “They will listen if you show you care.”

            I smiled a smile which was banished so long ago. I did have a voice! The person I least expected helped me to find it. It was strange: I would follow my little sister’s example, but look at her…. She was always heard, always listened to. She spoke up for what she thought was right. She was heard because of it and I could do the same too.