Monday, February 27, 2012
Memoirs
The memoir I read in the perspective of a writer is called The End of Adolescence, and was written by a seventeen year-old named Chelsea S. The memoir was about the writer's mother's struggle with cancer, but also reflected on the author having to deal with the stress of having to grow up too fast. This memoir did a good job integrating the remembrance of an instance in the person's life and telling the reader what happened without confusing anyone. Chelsea S. used very descriptive language when writing the memoir, although I was actually a bit confused as to what happened in the end of the memoir. Many people can probably relate to her story, but it was unique because she said she didn't really have her father to help her deal with her mother's illness. She was basically all alone, forced to grow up before she was ready. As opposed to a small, seemingly insignificant event that later shows importance to what the author of the memoir has turned in to as a person, this memoir talks about a tragic event in one's life that, when they were going through it, they wished it wasn't happening. However, at the end, the writer reflects that they wish they could go back to that time, and cry more now because that isn't possible.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Why Did America Fight in the Vietnam War?
A simple answer as to why America got involved in the Vietnam War is to stop the spread of Communism. This is a concept that can be described as the political leaders of a country being much safer than the people they are supposed to be protecting. It is mostly one-sided in that the citizens are the ones who do all the work, and they get nothing out of it. Countries that were developing in the 1950's & '60's were considering adopting this unfair form of government. In the middle of this time period, America was developing what was called the Domino Theory. It stated that once certain countries fell into Communism, others would follow, until a bunch of countries had adopted the idea of it.
The United States recognized that Communism had been spreading since the end of World War II and decided that they needed to stop this. Many regions throughout the world were adopting this. The French were in the war before the US, and were not exactly fighting toward communism, so it is evident that this was always America's and only America's intention. The beginning of the war was gradual, but after the years passed, it was very obvious that the United States of America was involved in the Vietnam War.
http://asianhistory.about.com/od/asianhistoryfaqs/f/whyvietnamfaq.htm
http://www.learnhistory.org.uk/vietnam/reasons.htm
The United States recognized that Communism had been spreading since the end of World War II and decided that they needed to stop this. Many regions throughout the world were adopting this. The French were in the war before the US, and were not exactly fighting toward communism, so it is evident that this was always America's and only America's intention. The beginning of the war was gradual, but after the years passed, it was very obvious that the United States of America was involved in the Vietnam War.
http://asianhistory.about.com/od/asianhistoryfaqs/f/whyvietnamfaq.htm
http://www.learnhistory.org.uk/vietnam/reasons.htm
Langston Hughes' "Let America Be America Again"
In the poem "Let America Be America Again," Langston Hughes does a nice job of depicting two different points of view on America itself. At the beginning of the poem, he contradicts himself with the parentheses saying he never believed things he's saying. In a way, it could be two different people speaking. However, it could also be the same person, just their conscience. Another possibility is that it could be things being said at different times. An example of this would be if someone were to write a story about something that happened the day before. The things said in the parentheses might be the person's thoughts when reading their story over.
The two perspectives of America are as follows. The first one is that America is a grand country, a land of liberty. Some people believe everyone in America is happy and proud of their country. America is a grand land, isn't it? However, the second perspective is that the country was set up for failure from the beginning. The unsuccessful, for lack of a better word, people see the country from this perspective. The people who have been through pain and hardships are the ones who no longer have faith in this land of liberty.
The America we have today is a hopeless place full of sadness and stuff. The poem's title is "Let America Be America Again," implying that America, when it is going through bad times, is not actually America.
The two perspectives of America are as follows. The first one is that America is a grand country, a land of liberty. Some people believe everyone in America is happy and proud of their country. America is a grand land, isn't it? However, the second perspective is that the country was set up for failure from the beginning. The unsuccessful, for lack of a better word, people see the country from this perspective. The people who have been through pain and hardships are the ones who no longer have faith in this land of liberty.
The America we have today is a hopeless place full of sadness and stuff. The poem's title is "Let America Be America Again," implying that America, when it is going through bad times, is not actually America.
Friday, February 3, 2012
If Jordan Baker was our Narrator
(passage from p. 57-59)
Nick and I lost touch for a while that summer. After a month or so, we reconnected. Everywhere we went, it was necessary for us to stop every once in awhile to engage in conversation with some person who knew me from one place of another. He never mentioned anything about being annoyed by that, though I expected and waited for it all summer.
At first, it was clear that we hung out on a strictly-friends basis. But he was a boy and I was a girl, and I was sure after some time that it was something more. I even tried to convince myself otherwise, but it became undeniable that there was something there. I found myself looking out for fun things for us to do. At times, I wondered what exactly it was that drew us to each other. It certainly had to be mutual; I wasn't the only one inviting him places. For me, it had to be his honesty and morality. I seem to have a hard time with simple ideas like those. He was everything I wasn't and we balanced each other out.
I wouldn't have called it love at the beginning, but in retrospect, maybe that's what it was. However, it was an innocent, sweet kind; not the tragic kind so many people try not to fall into. A certain day that I remember very clearly since it happened was the day we went to a party in Warwick. There was just something about that day, and this, I knew from the moment I dressed for it.
The night before, Nick and I had had a marvelous conversation about I don't even remember what. I remember that he muttered something about wishing we could continue the conversation when it got far too late and I needed to get home.
"Escort me to this party tomorrow night? It's up in Warwick, and I'll just die if I have to endure it on my own. It'll be a fantastic time if you come with me!" I was trying to be casual.
So we went. We borrowed someone or other's car just to cruise around and talk. I was nervous. I tried particularly hard not to show it, but my driving must have been off because he pointed it out. He wasn't trying to be rude or anything. He was never rude.
"You're a rotten driver. Either you ought to be more careful or you oughtn't drive a all," he told me.
We made a point to be blatantly honest to each other. To an extent.
"I am careful," I lied.
"No, you're not."
It was then I gave in. I let my guard down and said, "Well, other people are."
"What's that go t to do with it?"
"They'll keep out of my way!" I replied. "It takes two to make an accident."
"Suppose you met somebody just as careless as yourself." He was right.
"I hope I never will. I hate careless people. That's why I like you."
He stared at me ten, somewhat in awe if I wasn't mistaken. I shrugged and continued driving. Our friendship took a shift towards romance, then.
Nick and I lost touch for a while that summer. After a month or so, we reconnected. Everywhere we went, it was necessary for us to stop every once in awhile to engage in conversation with some person who knew me from one place of another. He never mentioned anything about being annoyed by that, though I expected and waited for it all summer.
At first, it was clear that we hung out on a strictly-friends basis. But he was a boy and I was a girl, and I was sure after some time that it was something more. I even tried to convince myself otherwise, but it became undeniable that there was something there. I found myself looking out for fun things for us to do. At times, I wondered what exactly it was that drew us to each other. It certainly had to be mutual; I wasn't the only one inviting him places. For me, it had to be his honesty and morality. I seem to have a hard time with simple ideas like those. He was everything I wasn't and we balanced each other out.
I wouldn't have called it love at the beginning, but in retrospect, maybe that's what it was. However, it was an innocent, sweet kind; not the tragic kind so many people try not to fall into. A certain day that I remember very clearly since it happened was the day we went to a party in Warwick. There was just something about that day, and this, I knew from the moment I dressed for it.
The night before, Nick and I had had a marvelous conversation about I don't even remember what. I remember that he muttered something about wishing we could continue the conversation when it got far too late and I needed to get home.
"Escort me to this party tomorrow night? It's up in Warwick, and I'll just die if I have to endure it on my own. It'll be a fantastic time if you come with me!" I was trying to be casual.
So we went. We borrowed someone or other's car just to cruise around and talk. I was nervous. I tried particularly hard not to show it, but my driving must have been off because he pointed it out. He wasn't trying to be rude or anything. He was never rude.
"You're a rotten driver. Either you ought to be more careful or you oughtn't drive a all," he told me.
We made a point to be blatantly honest to each other. To an extent.
"I am careful," I lied.
"No, you're not."
It was then I gave in. I let my guard down and said, "Well, other people are."
"What's that go t to do with it?"
"They'll keep out of my way!" I replied. "It takes two to make an accident."
"Suppose you met somebody just as careless as yourself." He was right.
"I hope I never will. I hate careless people. That's why I like you."
He stared at me ten, somewhat in awe if I wasn't mistaken. I shrugged and continued driving. Our friendship took a shift towards romance, then.
Monday, January 16, 2012
The American Dream
The American Dream. One word to describe this concept would be opportunity. Many Americans, from the day they're born believe in the possibility of making it big. This can mean a multitude of ways to spend a life. However, one common trait these big lives we search for is success. Money is also a big one. Everyone in America wants to be this, and the American Dream is that it is possible for everyone. It's that, when we are born into this country, we are guaranteed a life full of opportunity. Our lives are what we make of them.
In the article I read, a point was made that helps refine the idea of the American Dream. The author said, "What an American wants to become depends on who he is allowed to be." In America, things get in the way of our chance to have it all. These "things" include race and social class. People of certain races and social classes might have a better opportunity to achieve the American Dream than those of others. This kind of makes the idea of achieving it even more of a dream than it already is.
Another factor of the American Dream is the recession that we are and have been in a country. It has to do with a lot of people throwing away savings and giving all their money away, just to get closer to making it big. Another quote from the article I read said, "We're not afraid of losing all we have. But we're terrified of losing a chance to have it all."
The American dream relates to The Great Gatsby because of the heavy reliance on money and social standards and being rich. Gatsby started out as the assistant to someone with a huge yacht, and got the chance to make it big after changing his name and such. However, when he is around Daisy, his whole facade fades. He becomes awkward and humble and sincere. Tom Buchanan notices this, and decides he doesn't like him. This shows that when someone of the "wrong" background achieves the American Dream of success, they only get scrutinized.
In the article I read, a point was made that helps refine the idea of the American Dream. The author said, "What an American wants to become depends on who he is allowed to be." In America, things get in the way of our chance to have it all. These "things" include race and social class. People of certain races and social classes might have a better opportunity to achieve the American Dream than those of others. This kind of makes the idea of achieving it even more of a dream than it already is.
Another factor of the American Dream is the recession that we are and have been in a country. It has to do with a lot of people throwing away savings and giving all their money away, just to get closer to making it big. Another quote from the article I read said, "We're not afraid of losing all we have. But we're terrified of losing a chance to have it all."
The American dream relates to The Great Gatsby because of the heavy reliance on money and social standards and being rich. Gatsby started out as the assistant to someone with a huge yacht, and got the chance to make it big after changing his name and such. However, when he is around Daisy, his whole facade fades. He becomes awkward and humble and sincere. Tom Buchanan notices this, and decides he doesn't like him. This shows that when someone of the "wrong" background achieves the American Dream of success, they only get scrutinized.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Holden
Holden Caulfield might be one of my favorite nonfiction characters, ever. Okay, he is definitely my favorite nonfiction character. I am an overall depressing person, which is an overall depressing way to describe myself, but it is the truth. As a teenage girl, I pay the most attention to how teenage boys treat other girls, right? And he is extremely respectful. That is my favorite thing about him.
Anyway, I think all of his "flaws" do not make him difficult to like, as I have heard many people say. I think they make him way easier to relate to. Sometimes people mention that he is a hypocrite or a phony, as he would call it, but aren't we all? I mean, it is really kind of hard to keep track and remember every single thing we have ever said, so we are bound to go against one of our "principles" eventually. I know saying all this is just inviting someone to disagree with me, but whatever, Holden would probably call you a phony as well, so how does that feel? Ew, I am in a bitter mood. Okay.
Is anyone ever really real? I know tons of teenagers who will say one thing one week, and then go against it the next week. Who really even cares? I could start saying some really depressing stuff about how no one will care if you were nice to some random person when you really did not like them all that much after you are dead, but I am trying to shy away from sounding like a completely angsty teenager, searching for myself.
Mainly, I would just say that Holden is depressed. He misses Allie a lot of the time, and he is upset or worried about the whole Jane thing. Plus, he just got kicked out of a boarding school because he did not feel like applying himself and getting good grades. Nobody is completely heartless, except for like.. Antichrists. After a long time of pretending you are okay, everything has got to catch up with even the most seemingly apathetic people. And that is where I think Holden is at.
Anyway, I think all of his "flaws" do not make him difficult to like, as I have heard many people say. I think they make him way easier to relate to. Sometimes people mention that he is a hypocrite or a phony, as he would call it, but aren't we all? I mean, it is really kind of hard to keep track and remember every single thing we have ever said, so we are bound to go against one of our "principles" eventually. I know saying all this is just inviting someone to disagree with me, but whatever, Holden would probably call you a phony as well, so how does that feel? Ew, I am in a bitter mood. Okay.
Is anyone ever really real? I know tons of teenagers who will say one thing one week, and then go against it the next week. Who really even cares? I could start saying some really depressing stuff about how no one will care if you were nice to some random person when you really did not like them all that much after you are dead, but I am trying to shy away from sounding like a completely angsty teenager, searching for myself.
Mainly, I would just say that Holden is depressed. He misses Allie a lot of the time, and he is upset or worried about the whole Jane thing. Plus, he just got kicked out of a boarding school because he did not feel like applying himself and getting good grades. Nobody is completely heartless, except for like.. Antichrists. After a long time of pretending you are okay, everything has got to catch up with even the most seemingly apathetic people. And that is where I think Holden is at.
Winter Poem
Why isn't it snowy yet?
It's barely even cold.
I mean, I guess outside's kind of wet,
but hoodie weather's getting old.
Where are the snowflakes?
The candy canes, Christmas trees.
The carolers, cookies, cakes?
The snow last week was kind of a tease.
It doesn't feel like Christmas at all,
even though it's in ten days.
I'm just waiting for Jesus to call
and cancel his birthday.
Wow, that was rude. Okay. I have no hope at being a poet. Bye.
It's barely even cold.
I mean, I guess outside's kind of wet,
but hoodie weather's getting old.
Where are the snowflakes?
The candy canes, Christmas trees.
The carolers, cookies, cakes?
The snow last week was kind of a tease.
It doesn't feel like Christmas at all,
even though it's in ten days.
I'm just waiting for Jesus to call
and cancel his birthday.
Wow, that was rude. Okay. I have no hope at being a poet. Bye.
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