Initially, I wasn't planning on writing a post about The Things They Carried because I thought it would just end up sounding like everyone else's. However, the more I read this incredible book, the more I feel like not posting something about it denies it credit that it so completely deserves. And so, while attempting to ignore the shock I am experiencing as a result of realizing that I actually agree with the sentiments of nearly everybody in this class, I say this: I love this book.
The Things They Carried is absolutely fantastic, and Tim O'Brien is just. . .brilliant. He's so open with his explanation of the war in Vietnam. Nothing he writes seems out of place or unnecessary. It's all wonderful and captivating. I especially have the greatest appreciation possible for his vivid descriptions and evident voice. The writing in this book is beautiful, and each page I turn increases the effect that O'Brien is having on me.
Another aspect that I really enjoy about The Things They Carried is how the book is laid out as a series of short stories about O'Brien's life and experiences during the time of the war. I think it's really cool how each section could easily be read separately and be effective and is still totally interconnected with the others when presented as a complete book.
In a word, this book is powerful. I never expected that I could be this impressed or infatuated with a book about war, but I think that's because my idea of what war is has been formed with little investigation. Through reading this book, I'm learning about a subject I've never really explored before, developing new opinions, changing as a reader and writer, and, perhaps most importantly, feeling as though my time is being well-spent. Because of these things, I am very grateful to have been introduced to this book and writer Tim O'Brien. Thanks, Mr. Kunkle!
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Response to "Lampert Smith: Times have changed for student protesters"
I really agree with the idea that Susan Lampert Smith presented in this article from the Wisconsin State Journal. Things today are so much different that they were forty years ago, but this piece of writing worked to prove that point by offering a completely new example by means of discussing protests. I thought that it was a really original way of addressing how people's attitudes and motivation have changed throughout the years while also referencing a really serious and important event (the Dow protest) and its repercussions.
One concept in particular that I really liked that Smith brought up was that of "semi-apathy." I feel like this term, coined by Campus Anti-war Network member Zach Heise, was a great way of explaining how people think as opposed to how they used to think: people show compassion so long as it is convenient for them to do so.
At first it seemed ridiculous to me that students had actually told Heise that they would have participated more in protest had it not been for the fact that their favorite TV show was on the same night as meetings, but after thinking more about it, the idea didn't seem that far-fetched. In fact, I would definitely expect similar--if not worse--excuses out of students in high school for their lack of participation (whether that be in protest or just in extracurricular activities).
Honestly, this really disappoints me. I mean, it's great that we're all not about to dismantle "the establishment", to take town "the man", or to try to overthrow our government, but how sad is it that, as Heise put it, "everyone is able to be cocooned in their own little worlds" and, in turn, is on the edge of being unable to care less about anyone's life and problems but his/her own? Or, perhaps worse yet (as presented by Buhle) that even if he/she does care, it won't matter? That's terrible!
I wish people today had more of the passion and faith in what they see as meaningful issues that people 40 years ago had. It feels to me like we're in a time when our rules and ways of communicating should allow to get more and more things done, yet we seem to be accomplishing less and less. Times have changed and people have changed, but at this point these changes do not seem to have been for the better when it comes to attaining goals. I think that until people realize that and try to make something new--something better--out of the the things we have today that we did not in the '60s, Heise is very right in saying that "the idea of a massive social movement that can rise up and change our government doesn't seem possible."
One concept in particular that I really liked that Smith brought up was that of "semi-apathy." I feel like this term, coined by Campus Anti-war Network member Zach Heise, was a great way of explaining how people think as opposed to how they used to think: people show compassion so long as it is convenient for them to do so.
At first it seemed ridiculous to me that students had actually told Heise that they would have participated more in protest had it not been for the fact that their favorite TV show was on the same night as meetings, but after thinking more about it, the idea didn't seem that far-fetched. In fact, I would definitely expect similar--if not worse--excuses out of students in high school for their lack of participation (whether that be in protest or just in extracurricular activities).
Honestly, this really disappoints me. I mean, it's great that we're all not about to dismantle "the establishment", to take town "the man", or to try to overthrow our government, but how sad is it that, as Heise put it, "everyone is able to be cocooned in their own little worlds" and, in turn, is on the edge of being unable to care less about anyone's life and problems but his/her own? Or, perhaps worse yet (as presented by Buhle) that even if he/she does care, it won't matter? That's terrible!
I wish people today had more of the passion and faith in what they see as meaningful issues that people 40 years ago had. It feels to me like we're in a time when our rules and ways of communicating should allow to get more and more things done, yet we seem to be accomplishing less and less. Times have changed and people have changed, but at this point these changes do not seem to have been for the better when it comes to attaining goals. I think that until people realize that and try to make something new--something better--out of the the things we have today that we did not in the '60s, Heise is very right in saying that "the idea of a massive social movement that can rise up and change our government doesn't seem possible."
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Weekly Blog #7: Response to "See Baby Discriminate"
I was so excited to read this article. In fact, I even had a copy of my own that Mrs. D.W. had copied for me upon request already in my folder. I hadn't had a chance to read it due to all the homework I'd had, but then it became homework! What a lucky break for me. . .
Any who. . .the reason why I'd planned on reading this was because I knew it would remind me of my AP Psychology class. I think it's obvious that I find it really fascinating to try to figure out how people (of any age group) think, so this was a really nice fit for me to read. However, despite my enjoyment of reading about something psychology-related, there are a few things I actually didn't like about reading and discussing this piece of writing, and I feel that I need to express them here.
First of all, I think that people--both those who conducted/are conducting these experiments and those who have read and discussed this piece of writing--are, perhaps by no fault of their own, putting way too much weight on the word "discriminate." I know that in this day and age, we can all agree that the word has been built a bad reputation full of negative connotations. Yet in it's mildest, most classic use, discrimination simply means to make a distinction--to notice differences.
There is no denying that people of different races look. . .well. . .different. Everyone looks different. I don't look like Raven Symoné; she doesn't look like Lin Manuel Miranda; he doesn't look Sandra Oh; she doesn't look like Barack Obama; and he certainly doesn't look like either of the Olsen twins. (That assortment of people would seem a lot less random if you were in my dream last night.) I don't think that it's the least bit fair to imply that children are racist simply because they are able to notice these facts. It's inevitable that babies will stare longer at a picture of someone who does not have the same color skin as the people in their families (the people they've been around all their lives). In fewer words, it's inevitable that babies will, in fact, discriminate. In that point in their lives, however, that's not a bad thing.
Also, I did not agree with the fact that those conducting the experiments only thought to study African-American and Caucasian babies. I think that a valid point can't be made if entire groups of people are left out of an evaluation like this one.
Somethings I did find really interesting about this article had a lot to do with parental impact on how children view race. I thought that the idea of there being a window for teaching kids how to think about race was definitely worth considering. It seems very likely that this is true, and I believe that it would be beneficial to parents to be aware of this when raising their children. I think that parents need also to be conscious of the idea that they are saying things to their children even when they say nothing at all. In other words, parents need to be aware that even though they think that doing things like not talking about race or brushing off the subject make it seem less serious, doing these things still has an effect on how children think about race. Put in even simpler terms, parents (and all adults) need to be aware that they are the ones crafting the meaning of "discrimination" for their kids.
Any who. . .the reason why I'd planned on reading this was because I knew it would remind me of my AP Psychology class. I think it's obvious that I find it really fascinating to try to figure out how people (of any age group) think, so this was a really nice fit for me to read. However, despite my enjoyment of reading about something psychology-related, there are a few things I actually didn't like about reading and discussing this piece of writing, and I feel that I need to express them here.
First of all, I think that people--both those who conducted/are conducting these experiments and those who have read and discussed this piece of writing--are, perhaps by no fault of their own, putting way too much weight on the word "discriminate." I know that in this day and age, we can all agree that the word has been built a bad reputation full of negative connotations. Yet in it's mildest, most classic use, discrimination simply means to make a distinction--to notice differences.
There is no denying that people of different races look. . .well. . .different. Everyone looks different. I don't look like Raven Symoné; she doesn't look like Lin Manuel Miranda; he doesn't look Sandra Oh; she doesn't look like Barack Obama; and he certainly doesn't look like either of the Olsen twins. (That assortment of people would seem a lot less random if you were in my dream last night.) I don't think that it's the least bit fair to imply that children are racist simply because they are able to notice these facts. It's inevitable that babies will stare longer at a picture of someone who does not have the same color skin as the people in their families (the people they've been around all their lives). In fewer words, it's inevitable that babies will, in fact, discriminate. In that point in their lives, however, that's not a bad thing.
Also, I did not agree with the fact that those conducting the experiments only thought to study African-American and Caucasian babies. I think that a valid point can't be made if entire groups of people are left out of an evaluation like this one.
Somethings I did find really interesting about this article had a lot to do with parental impact on how children view race. I thought that the idea of there being a window for teaching kids how to think about race was definitely worth considering. It seems very likely that this is true, and I believe that it would be beneficial to parents to be aware of this when raising their children. I think that parents need also to be conscious of the idea that they are saying things to their children even when they say nothing at all. In other words, parents need to be aware that even though they think that doing things like not talking about race or brushing off the subject make it seem less serious, doing these things still has an effect on how children think about race. Put in even simpler terms, parents (and all adults) need to be aware that they are the ones crafting the meaning of "discrimination" for their kids.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Weekly Blog #6: Response to "Letters from Birmingham Jail"
I absolutely loved this piece.
This letter written by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. during his time spent in Birmingham Jail was by far my favorite of the writings we've read from the course-reader thus far in this class. Just by reading the first couple of paragraphs I was able to conclude that I would enjoy the rest of the writing.
Normally, when we are assigned a reading for this course, I start the piece, take a break, resume reading, go to bed, get up the next morning and finish the reading. With this work, however, I could not stop reading. It was not just the subject matter either (the thing I assumed would be most likely to keep me interested in the piece). He made so many great points, used such masterful vocabulary, referenced so many relevant people and situations, and made such consummate use of rhetorical strategies while remaining respectful and level-headed throughout the letter that I just couldn't put it down.
It's hard for me to pick out specific portions of Dr. King's work as my favorite parts because I was blown away by the piece as a whole. Primarily, I thought that it was great that King was obviously very conscious of his audience when writing this letter. He was not only thoroughly courteous (it's easy to get caught up and flustered in an argument as serious at this one!) but also sure to make allusions to religious scenarios and values when writing to these bishops, reverends, and rabbi.
Still, I also really enjoyed that his writing could easily have been relatable for anyone around during that time (and even for people today). King included an insanely powerful collection of pathos and ethos in his letter without sounding like he expected pity and apology--he made it clear that his main goal was change.
He also made great use of definition. Through offering explanations like those he provided about just and unjust laws ("A just law is a man-made code that squares with moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with moral law."), King was able to strengthen his argument about why the non-violent breaking of some laws was not only defensible but necessary.
Overall, I don't think that I could possibly say enough positive things about this piece of writing. I can't believe that someone was able to write this while in jail! That's amazing to me. Everything from his fantastic metaphors/analogies to his undeniably great references (that were expertly blended into his writing, might I add) was brilliant and really succeeded in making persuasive points. I feel like I should have some criticism for this piece, but I simply can't think of any. It was wonderful.
This letter written by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. during his time spent in Birmingham Jail was by far my favorite of the writings we've read from the course-reader thus far in this class. Just by reading the first couple of paragraphs I was able to conclude that I would enjoy the rest of the writing.
Normally, when we are assigned a reading for this course, I start the piece, take a break, resume reading, go to bed, get up the next morning and finish the reading. With this work, however, I could not stop reading. It was not just the subject matter either (the thing I assumed would be most likely to keep me interested in the piece). He made so many great points, used such masterful vocabulary, referenced so many relevant people and situations, and made such consummate use of rhetorical strategies while remaining respectful and level-headed throughout the letter that I just couldn't put it down.
It's hard for me to pick out specific portions of Dr. King's work as my favorite parts because I was blown away by the piece as a whole. Primarily, I thought that it was great that King was obviously very conscious of his audience when writing this letter. He was not only thoroughly courteous (it's easy to get caught up and flustered in an argument as serious at this one!) but also sure to make allusions to religious scenarios and values when writing to these bishops, reverends, and rabbi.
Still, I also really enjoyed that his writing could easily have been relatable for anyone around during that time (and even for people today). King included an insanely powerful collection of pathos and ethos in his letter without sounding like he expected pity and apology--he made it clear that his main goal was change.
He also made great use of definition. Through offering explanations like those he provided about just and unjust laws ("A just law is a man-made code that squares with moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with moral law."), King was able to strengthen his argument about why the non-violent breaking of some laws was not only defensible but necessary.
Overall, I don't think that I could possibly say enough positive things about this piece of writing. I can't believe that someone was able to write this while in jail! That's amazing to me. Everything from his fantastic metaphors/analogies to his undeniably great references (that were expertly blended into his writing, might I add) was brilliant and really succeeded in making persuasive points. I feel like I should have some criticism for this piece, but I simply can't think of any. It was wonderful.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Weekly Blog #5: Oh, Gertie. . .
When I first began reading this essay by Gertrude Stein, I was ferociously frustrated. It took me over a minute to get through the first beast of a sentence because I couldn't tell where one thought ended and the next began. I wanted commas; I wanted question marks; and I wanted quotes. However, Stein didn't seem to be thinking about what her audience might appreciate having in the article, which, I later came to realize, may largely have been a way of supporting her argument.
Some of Stein's points were a little difficult for me to understand given her chosen writing style, but the one that stood out most to me was her idea that recognizing who you are to another person (or to a little dog, perhaps)--in other words, realizing your identity--is what destroys creation. What I got out of this was that Stein believes that one cannot create a master-piece if one is consciously considering what others think of him/her.
On page 133 I believe Stein expands on this when she says,
"That is every one's trouble and particularly the trouble just now when every one who writes or paints has gotten to be abnormally conscious of the things he uses that is the events the people the objects and the landscapes and fundamentally the minute one is conscious deeply conscious of these things as a subject the interest in them does not exist."
To me, this seems to reflect the idea that when people are overly concerned with how others are going to interpret their work, they lose their primary interest in their work and, along with that, their ability to create a master-piece. A master-piece can only be created when a person knows not to have identity and is able to go on creating without it, which helps explain why there are so few master-pieces today.
I think that Stein chose to write without proper mechanics as a way of modeling how a creator of a master-piece should be thinking. A writer who, according to Stein, will not succeed in making a master-piece is one who chooses to consider what kind of writing would be most enjoyable for the reader. This kind of writer would use correct punctuation, keeping in mind that readers like well-formed, easy-flowing sentences. However, Stein's idea of a master-piece-maker would have complete disregard for the aspects of a writing that would make it easiest for its audience to read. This writer would be unaware of what his audience is expecting from a writer, thus not allowing an identity to interfere with his creation. It is this kind of writer, I believe, that Stein was presenting through writing her essay in this style.
Some of Stein's points were a little difficult for me to understand given her chosen writing style, but the one that stood out most to me was her idea that recognizing who you are to another person (or to a little dog, perhaps)--in other words, realizing your identity--is what destroys creation. What I got out of this was that Stein believes that one cannot create a master-piece if one is consciously considering what others think of him/her.
On page 133 I believe Stein expands on this when she says,
"That is every one's trouble and particularly the trouble just now when every one who writes or paints has gotten to be abnormally conscious of the things he uses that is the events the people the objects and the landscapes and fundamentally the minute one is conscious deeply conscious of these things as a subject the interest in them does not exist."
To me, this seems to reflect the idea that when people are overly concerned with how others are going to interpret their work, they lose their primary interest in their work and, along with that, their ability to create a master-piece. A master-piece can only be created when a person knows not to have identity and is able to go on creating without it, which helps explain why there are so few master-pieces today.
I think that Stein chose to write without proper mechanics as a way of modeling how a creator of a master-piece should be thinking. A writer who, according to Stein, will not succeed in making a master-piece is one who chooses to consider what kind of writing would be most enjoyable for the reader. This kind of writer would use correct punctuation, keeping in mind that readers like well-formed, easy-flowing sentences. However, Stein's idea of a master-piece-maker would have complete disregard for the aspects of a writing that would make it easiest for its audience to read. This writer would be unaware of what his audience is expecting from a writer, thus not allowing an identity to interfere with his creation. It is this kind of writer, I believe, that Stein was presenting through writing her essay in this style.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Weekly Blog #4: AP Composition So Far
To start, I feel it very necessary to note that the idea for the topic of this post should be completely credited to Elise Gehrke. I do not, by any means, want to be considered a copier, but I really enjoyed her blog (read it!), and it got me thinking a lot about how I feel about this course thus far. Plus, it's been a really rough weekend (/week/month/season/year), and my brain is just out of creative juices at the moment.
Still, making weekly blog posts like this has actually been one of my favorite parts about this class. Aside from this week, a part of me is always a little bit eager to get the chance to come up with my own topic to discuss on here. I get excited everytime I see that I have a new blog comment, but it's a relief to know that no one can interrupt me when I'm actually typing and that I have time to think about what I want to say instead of feeling rushed to come up with something before the point I want to make becomes irrelevant. I also like reading everyone else's thoughts too! In a way, it makes me feel closer to everyone because I know that people outside our class don't get the chance to read these things.
I also really like reading the articles for this class. It's been an interesting way for me to see all the different writing styles that are out there while also getting a look at a wide range of topics. The only thing that sometimes bums me out with that is that I'll get really interested in one of the ideas or events discussed in an essay only to find that we don't really talk about it, go back to it, or build off of it. Nevertheless, I know the class is supposed to be about reading and writing, so I will just have to be grateful for the lead into a subject that this class allows and leave the deeper learning for my free time.
Discussions have been. . .a little nuts. That's alright though. I like them that way, and we have gotten better with them (or maybe it was just Peter's article. . .ha). One thing I'm still a little iffy about as far as discussing essays goes is how what other people say affects me. It seems like a lot of the time I go into class thinking about one thing and come out thinking about a completely different thing. It's not necessarily that I change my mind as much as it is that I have found out that other people in the class notice different things in articles than I do, and I'm still deciding how I feel about that. Part of me likes hearing about what other people picked up on, but, at the same time, part of me gets concerned about why I missed things in the first place.
However, the thing that is quite possibly the most concerning thing I deal with in AP Composition is doing timed writings. So far in this blog I'm mentioned the things about the class that I like, but I am definitely leaving timed writings out of that mix. We've only done two of those bad boys, and already I can see that they're going to continue to give me trouble. I have yet to finish one within the forty minutes we're supposed to be allowed, and, similarly, I have yet to find out if I'm doing them correctly. I just hope I don't have to wait to find that out until he grades one!
Still, making weekly blog posts like this has actually been one of my favorite parts about this class. Aside from this week, a part of me is always a little bit eager to get the chance to come up with my own topic to discuss on here. I get excited everytime I see that I have a new blog comment, but it's a relief to know that no one can interrupt me when I'm actually typing and that I have time to think about what I want to say instead of feeling rushed to come up with something before the point I want to make becomes irrelevant. I also like reading everyone else's thoughts too! In a way, it makes me feel closer to everyone because I know that people outside our class don't get the chance to read these things.
I also really like reading the articles for this class. It's been an interesting way for me to see all the different writing styles that are out there while also getting a look at a wide range of topics. The only thing that sometimes bums me out with that is that I'll get really interested in one of the ideas or events discussed in an essay only to find that we don't really talk about it, go back to it, or build off of it. Nevertheless, I know the class is supposed to be about reading and writing, so I will just have to be grateful for the lead into a subject that this class allows and leave the deeper learning for my free time.
Discussions have been. . .a little nuts. That's alright though. I like them that way, and we have gotten better with them (or maybe it was just Peter's article. . .ha). One thing I'm still a little iffy about as far as discussing essays goes is how what other people say affects me. It seems like a lot of the time I go into class thinking about one thing and come out thinking about a completely different thing. It's not necessarily that I change my mind as much as it is that I have found out that other people in the class notice different things in articles than I do, and I'm still deciding how I feel about that. Part of me likes hearing about what other people picked up on, but, at the same time, part of me gets concerned about why I missed things in the first place.
However, the thing that is quite possibly the most concerning thing I deal with in AP Composition is doing timed writings. So far in this blog I'm mentioned the things about the class that I like, but I am definitely leaving timed writings out of that mix. We've only done two of those bad boys, and already I can see that they're going to continue to give me trouble. I have yet to finish one within the forty minutes we're supposed to be allowed, and, similarly, I have yet to find out if I'm doing them correctly. I just hope I don't have to wait to find that out until he grades one!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Weekly Blog #3: Opinions, opinions, opinions. . .
So, is it just me, or does our class seem to have insanely serious discussions? From teen pregnancy to animal testing to the "N" word, we can't seem to help ourselves from smacking our hands down on the tables in rage, shooting our arms up in the air, and preparing to spit out our next set of steaming hot words (or, at the very least, from sitting there, fuming and gritting our teeth with frustration) when we don't agree with each other.
I'm not about to say that we need to stop fighting with each other. Au contraire, I think that. . .no, I know (from very personal experience) that keeping people from arguing out their discrepancies is the worst thing to do. Tensions strengthen. Nothing gets settled. It's just a mess.
I am, however, trying to say that I think people need to try taking a step back and a deep breath before they plunge into our discussions. (Don't worry--I'm definitely included in this varsity team of anxious conversation divers. Most of us are.) I just feel like the majority of us has a tendency to get lost in our own beliefs without considering how others are going to feel about what we say. Having someone attack your beliefs--even if they have the right to or didn't have the intention to--never feels good. I think we'd all be better off if we could try both giving other's opinions more of a chance and giving our own a little less credit.
We all have opinions and, hopefully, sturdy reasons to support them. That being said, we have to start accepting that no matter how much we raise our voices or how pink our faces turn, we're not going to be able to get everyone to agree with us. That's just not how things work.
Overall, I think that, for our next discussion, it would be wise of everyone to keep in mind an idea similar to this one that was presented by John Moore:
"Your opinion is your opinion, your perception is your perception--do not confuse them with 'facts' or 'truth'. Wars have been fought and millions have been killed because of the inability of men to understand the idea that EVERYBODY has a different viewpoint."
I'm not about to say that we need to stop fighting with each other. Au contraire, I think that. . .no, I know (from very personal experience) that keeping people from arguing out their discrepancies is the worst thing to do. Tensions strengthen. Nothing gets settled. It's just a mess.
I am, however, trying to say that I think people need to try taking a step back and a deep breath before they plunge into our discussions. (Don't worry--I'm definitely included in this varsity team of anxious conversation divers. Most of us are.) I just feel like the majority of us has a tendency to get lost in our own beliefs without considering how others are going to feel about what we say. Having someone attack your beliefs--even if they have the right to or didn't have the intention to--never feels good. I think we'd all be better off if we could try both giving other's opinions more of a chance and giving our own a little less credit.
We all have opinions and, hopefully, sturdy reasons to support them. That being said, we have to start accepting that no matter how much we raise our voices or how pink our faces turn, we're not going to be able to get everyone to agree with us. That's just not how things work.
Overall, I think that, for our next discussion, it would be wise of everyone to keep in mind an idea similar to this one that was presented by John Moore:
"Your opinion is your opinion, your perception is your perception--do not confuse them with 'facts' or 'truth'. Wars have been fought and millions have been killed because of the inability of men to understand the idea that EVERYBODY has a different viewpoint."
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
My Fear(s)
I know that I'm afraid of a lot of things--I think just about anyone who knows me can vouch for my panicked behavior in response to a small fear being realized--but if someone (like. . .oh, I don't know, Mr. Kunkle?) were to ask me to explain the really serious ones, I'd have a lot of trouble.
My phobias aren't typical. I mean, I don't like spiders, but I don't have arachnophobia. I don't like heights, but I don't have acrophobia. I don't like sharks, being evaluated negatively in social situations, or Abercrombie & Fitch, but I don't have phobias of them. My fears just aren't like that. I suppose if I were to try to scientifically name the thing(s) I'm scared of, doing so would result in some strange combination of atychiphobia (fear of failure) and gerascophobia (fear of growing old). More plainly put, I would describe my phobia as a fear of running out of time to do things right.
I hate making mistakes. I know that making them is a part of life, but it really kills me when I err on something simple or mess up something that everyone else did right. What's more, I hate when I don't get a chance to correct or mitigate my mistakes. Whether it be that I don't have the time (just like I'm about to run out of time to finish this blog. . .crap!) or that I'm not even given the chance, it really shakes me up when I don't get to right my wrongs or do something that is three times as good as whatever I messed up was bad. It's hard for me to explain, and I'm betting it's even harder for others to understand, but it's just how I function.
Also, I'm really not partial to idea of having surgery. Ever. I mean, I probably would if need be, but I have this. . .well. . .FEAR of "anesthetic awareness" (meaning that I would find myself awake and aware, but paralyzed, during the surgery). This fear elicits more of a shudder-worthy kind of feeling whereas the first just makes my heart ache.
Still, the idea of either becoming prevalent in my life sort of makes me want to throw up. . .
My phobias aren't typical. I mean, I don't like spiders, but I don't have arachnophobia. I don't like heights, but I don't have acrophobia. I don't like sharks, being evaluated negatively in social situations, or Abercrombie & Fitch, but I don't have phobias of them. My fears just aren't like that. I suppose if I were to try to scientifically name the thing(s) I'm scared of, doing so would result in some strange combination of atychiphobia (fear of failure) and gerascophobia (fear of growing old). More plainly put, I would describe my phobia as a fear of running out of time to do things right.
I hate making mistakes. I know that making them is a part of life, but it really kills me when I err on something simple or mess up something that everyone else did right. What's more, I hate when I don't get a chance to correct or mitigate my mistakes. Whether it be that I don't have the time (just like I'm about to run out of time to finish this blog. . .crap!) or that I'm not even given the chance, it really shakes me up when I don't get to right my wrongs or do something that is three times as good as whatever I messed up was bad. It's hard for me to explain, and I'm betting it's even harder for others to understand, but it's just how I function.
Also, I'm really not partial to idea of having surgery. Ever. I mean, I probably would if need be, but I have this. . .well. . .FEAR of "anesthetic awareness" (meaning that I would find myself awake and aware, but paralyzed, during the surgery). This fear elicits more of a shudder-worthy kind of feeling whereas the first just makes my heart ache.
Still, the idea of either becoming prevalent in my life sort of makes me want to throw up. . .
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Weekly Blog #2: Response to "Cruelty of Animal Testing"
I think that this post is going to end up being more of a response to the discussion we had about Zack's article than it will be about the article itself mostly because I was really surprised about how it went.
While reading "Cruelty of Animal Testing", I began forming a pretty specific scenario of how our classroom review of it would go in my head. I assumed we would all be on the same page. Don't test. Don't kill. I love baby seals. The massive difference between this mind-made, animal-lover's version of a conversation and the dehumanizing (okay, so animals aren't humans, exactly, but we sure treat them like it enough!), PETA-bashing ventilation that actually took place was startling. I could not believe what I was hearing--and not hearing, for that matter.
I'm not going to get into everything that was said because I don't want to offend anyone, or, worse yet, make myself more angry about it, but I have to say that there were definitely times when I felt like I was up against the whole class. Obviously, I wasn't--there's no way I was the only animal-adoring freak in there--, but I felt like no one who was, for lack of better words, "on my side" was saying anything.
I remember looking around at the faces of my classmates who were keeping silent during the discussion and wondering, "What in the world are they thinking right now?!" I wanted to know if they agreed with those who chose to describe lab animals as plentiful machines or if, like me, they disagreed so much that they couldn't be bothered to find the words to say so. I was very frustrated and confused.
However, I think the thing that really sent me over the edge was something that happened a little later in the class period.
We had just finished discussing "Death of a Fish," and Mr. Kunkle was wrapping up his story about how he handled the death of his own daughter's fish. Then, Isis went on to tell her story about her mother's parents feeding her mother her pet rabbit when it died, and how did people react to that?!
Well, after everyone got over the grossness of it, the room filled with "aw"'s and "that's so sad"'s. Aw?! That's so sad?!?! So now that it's someone's pet, it's suddenly upsetting that an animal died?! Perhaps people should consider the fact that animals used in lab experiments never have the chance to be pets. Perhaps people should consider the fact that animals used in lab experiments often die for human vanity and shady, consumerist morals.
But, of course, that doesn't matter. That's what they were made for, right?
So not.
While reading "Cruelty of Animal Testing", I began forming a pretty specific scenario of how our classroom review of it would go in my head. I assumed we would all be on the same page. Don't test. Don't kill. I love baby seals. The massive difference between this mind-made, animal-lover's version of a conversation and the dehumanizing (okay, so animals aren't humans, exactly, but we sure treat them like it enough!), PETA-bashing ventilation that actually took place was startling. I could not believe what I was hearing--and not hearing, for that matter.
I'm not going to get into everything that was said because I don't want to offend anyone, or, worse yet, make myself more angry about it, but I have to say that there were definitely times when I felt like I was up against the whole class. Obviously, I wasn't--there's no way I was the only animal-adoring freak in there--, but I felt like no one who was, for lack of better words, "on my side" was saying anything.
I remember looking around at the faces of my classmates who were keeping silent during the discussion and wondering, "What in the world are they thinking right now?!" I wanted to know if they agreed with those who chose to describe lab animals as plentiful machines or if, like me, they disagreed so much that they couldn't be bothered to find the words to say so. I was very frustrated and confused.
However, I think the thing that really sent me over the edge was something that happened a little later in the class period.
We had just finished discussing "Death of a Fish," and Mr. Kunkle was wrapping up his story about how he handled the death of his own daughter's fish. Then, Isis went on to tell her story about her mother's parents feeding her mother her pet rabbit when it died, and how did people react to that?!
Well, after everyone got over the grossness of it, the room filled with "aw"'s and "that's so sad"'s. Aw?! That's so sad?!?! So now that it's someone's pet, it's suddenly upsetting that an animal died?! Perhaps people should consider the fact that animals used in lab experiments never have the chance to be pets. Perhaps people should consider the fact that animals used in lab experiments often die for human vanity and shady, consumerist morals.
But, of course, that doesn't matter. That's what they were made for, right?
So not.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Response to "The Prevailing Opinion of a Sexual Character Discussed"
I think that I should begin this post by saying that this reading was really not as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, I somewhat enjoyed it. All that whining everyone did this summer gave me the worst impression possible of Wollstonecraft, but after a few pages of reading, I realized (for the 4,967th time this year) that people complain way too much.
Though her 18th century writing style was a bit foreign to me, I'm pretty certain that I understood her points considering how often she repeated them (in other words, it seemed to have taken her twenty-two pages to explain an idea that probably could have been made clear in half as many or less.) In all honesty, her line on the first page was enough for me to see where her argument was coming from. She wrote,
"Women are told from their infancy, and taught by the example of their mothers, that a little knowledge of human weakness, justly termed cunning, softness of temper, outward obedience, and a scrupulous attention to a puerile kind of propriety, will obtain for them the protection of man; and they should be beautiful, everything else is needless, for, at least, twenty years of their lives."
I can't imagine how I could be content with my life if that was how women were viewed today, which is why this essay made me see how thankful I should be that females are no longer expected to be that sort of soulless, docile "toy of man." I expect Wollstonecraft would be proud to know that women are now properly educated and are capable of supporting themselves with dignity. I know I'm proud and so grateful for the things I can do that women from Wollstonecraft's time could not.
However, I can't help but feel a bit angry for those women. The men of their time never had to experience that kind of oppression. Even when Wollstonecraft pointed out how similar men and women can be through examples like females and soldiers both learning to be completely submissive (learning to "acquire manners before morals") and females and males both being overgrown children (due to early debauchery and forced innocence), she made it clear that the fact that the soldiers and males were. . .well. . .males was all the justification they needed for being dependent on orders and/or juvenile.
Overall, I liked Wollstonecraft's piece and do not doubt that I would have supported her one hundred percent had I been around 200 years ago. Her points, though long-drawn-out and rather wordy, were well-made and very important. So many of my annotations for this essay read thoughts like "Sell it, sister!" or "You tell 'em, girl!". Well, let me tell you--I think she sold it.
PS- That link goes to a song that I was thinking about a lot while reading this :)
Though her 18th century writing style was a bit foreign to me, I'm pretty certain that I understood her points considering how often she repeated them (in other words, it seemed to have taken her twenty-two pages to explain an idea that probably could have been made clear in half as many or less.) In all honesty, her line on the first page was enough for me to see where her argument was coming from. She wrote,
"Women are told from their infancy, and taught by the example of their mothers, that a little knowledge of human weakness, justly termed cunning, softness of temper, outward obedience, and a scrupulous attention to a puerile kind of propriety, will obtain for them the protection of man; and they should be beautiful, everything else is needless, for, at least, twenty years of their lives."
I can't imagine how I could be content with my life if that was how women were viewed today, which is why this essay made me see how thankful I should be that females are no longer expected to be that sort of soulless, docile "toy of man." I expect Wollstonecraft would be proud to know that women are now properly educated and are capable of supporting themselves with dignity. I know I'm proud and so grateful for the things I can do that women from Wollstonecraft's time could not.
However, I can't help but feel a bit angry for those women. The men of their time never had to experience that kind of oppression. Even when Wollstonecraft pointed out how similar men and women can be through examples like females and soldiers both learning to be completely submissive (learning to "acquire manners before morals") and females and males both being overgrown children (due to early debauchery and forced innocence), she made it clear that the fact that the soldiers and males were. . .well. . .males was all the justification they needed for being dependent on orders and/or juvenile.
Overall, I liked Wollstonecraft's piece and do not doubt that I would have supported her one hundred percent had I been around 200 years ago. Her points, though long-drawn-out and rather wordy, were well-made and very important. So many of my annotations for this essay read thoughts like "Sell it, sister!" or "You tell 'em, girl!". Well, let me tell you--I think she sold it.
PS- That link goes to a song that I was thinking about a lot while reading this :)
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Weekly Blog #1: Response to "Lies We Tell Kids"
Reading this article by Paul Graham made me feel really conflicted.
Part of me got really angry as I started to realize how often young people get lied to and how dumb those lies can be. Some of the reasons that Graham proposed about why adults feel like they need to lie also seemed pretty stupid to me. I'm not saying that he isn't right; I'm just saying that I think it's sad that some of those reasons are seriously the best justification people can come up with for lying. On the other hand, I can also understand a parent wanting to protect his or her child. Right now it's easy for me to say that I would never lie to my kid because I don't actually have one--I don't know what it feels like to be responsible for and have to worry about another human's life. Still, (and this may just be the resentful, rebellious teenager inside of me who thinks she knows how to run the world talking) I think that there are better options out there than lying to children.
One of these options is obvious: just tell the truth. I'm guessing that it's really not as hard to do as people think, especially considering that a good number of lies are told simply because adults don't want to take the time to explain things or because they don't want to admit that they can't explain things. Impatience and hubris--two qualities that I don't think any parent wants his/her child to have. So then why do parents model these characteristics by lying? Kids are inevitably going to find out when they've been lied to, and, in addition to being a little cheesed-off about it, they're going to think that it's okay for them to lie too when they feel annoyed or prideful. Kids learn by example (observational learning! Thank you, Albert Bandura. Anyone interested? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdh7MngntnI )--If adults set a bad example, they shouldn't expect anything better from kids.
Another option, perhaps one that would be best considered in situations in which telling the truth would be a little much even for an adult, would be for parents to tell their children that they will answer the question later, when the time is right. Take a cue from Mrs. Potts, mom and dad, and say to your Chip, "I'll tell you when you're older, dear," when asked about a touchy subject. (That was a Beauty and the Beast reference, if you were wondering.) If parents could sit down with their kids and explain to them that the thing they asked about is really serious and should be discussed at a different time, their kids would probably feel a lot better than they would if they found out later that they'd been lied to. And, really, have parents met their children? Do they not notice that most kids have an attention span of about a minute? Because they do. . .Moral of the story: postpone the truth if need be, but don't be afraid or too lazy to tell it. Honestly. . .
Part of me got really angry as I started to realize how often young people get lied to and how dumb those lies can be. Some of the reasons that Graham proposed about why adults feel like they need to lie also seemed pretty stupid to me. I'm not saying that he isn't right; I'm just saying that I think it's sad that some of those reasons are seriously the best justification people can come up with for lying. On the other hand, I can also understand a parent wanting to protect his or her child. Right now it's easy for me to say that I would never lie to my kid because I don't actually have one--I don't know what it feels like to be responsible for and have to worry about another human's life. Still, (and this may just be the resentful, rebellious teenager inside of me who thinks she knows how to run the world talking) I think that there are better options out there than lying to children.
One of these options is obvious: just tell the truth. I'm guessing that it's really not as hard to do as people think, especially considering that a good number of lies are told simply because adults don't want to take the time to explain things or because they don't want to admit that they can't explain things. Impatience and hubris--two qualities that I don't think any parent wants his/her child to have. So then why do parents model these characteristics by lying? Kids are inevitably going to find out when they've been lied to, and, in addition to being a little cheesed-off about it, they're going to think that it's okay for them to lie too when they feel annoyed or prideful. Kids learn by example (observational learning! Thank you, Albert Bandura. Anyone interested? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdh7MngntnI )--If adults set a bad example, they shouldn't expect anything better from kids.
Another option, perhaps one that would be best considered in situations in which telling the truth would be a little much even for an adult, would be for parents to tell their children that they will answer the question later, when the time is right. Take a cue from Mrs. Potts, mom and dad, and say to your Chip, "I'll tell you when you're older, dear," when asked about a touchy subject. (That was a Beauty and the Beast reference, if you were wondering.) If parents could sit down with their kids and explain to them that the thing they asked about is really serious and should be discussed at a different time, their kids would probably feel a lot better than they would if they found out later that they'd been lied to. And, really, have parents met their children? Do they not notice that most kids have an attention span of about a minute? Because they do. . .Moral of the story: postpone the truth if need be, but don't be afraid or too lazy to tell it. Honestly. . .
Monday, September 7, 2009
Response to "Born on a Blue Day"
The non-fiction book that I chose to read this summer is called Born on a Blue Day. It is an autobiography written by an autistic savant from Britain named Daniel Tammet, and I really enjoyed it.
I had planned on reading this book long before I decided to join our AP Composition class because I had been introduced savant syndrome and to Daniel during my beloved AP Psychology class last year and wanted to learn more. Savants are absolutely incredible, and Daniel Tammet is no exception. For those of you who don't know, savant syndrome is generally described as a rare condition in which a person with a developmental disorder (which may or may not be found on the autistic spectrum like Daniel's is) has one or more areas of expertise, exceptional ability, or brilliance that contrast with his or her overall limitations that result from his/her disorder.
Many of you have probably seen Dustin Hoffman's portrayal of this amazing disorder in the movie Rain Man. Raymond Babbitt, Hoffman's character, is inspired by real-life savant Kim Peek--someone Daniel got to meet (which he recounts in his book). However, Kim Peek is slightly different from Daniel Tammet in that Peek suffers from severe brain damage whereas Tammet has autism.
Specifically, Daniel has Asperger's syndrome, a relatively mild and high-functioning form of autism. He explains autism is his book as follows:
Autism, including Asperger's syndrome, is defined by the presence of impairments affecting social interaction, communication, and imagination (problems with abstract or flexible thought and empathy, for example). . .People with Asperger's often have good language skills and are able to lead relatively normal lives. Many have above-average IQs and excel in areas that involve logical or visual thinking. . .Single-mindedness is a defining characteristic, as is a strong drive to analyze detail and identify rules and patterns in systems. Specialized skills involving memory, numbers, and mathematics are [also] common.
Being that Tammet's autism is, for the most part, non-limiting and that he is a savant with unbelievable abilities, he has been able to accomplish a number of incredible things so far, which he explains in Born on a Blue Day. Some of these achievements include traveling to Lithuania to teach women there how to speak English, learning ten different languages, memorizing the irrational number Pi to the 22,500th digit, being filmed in a documentary about himself while traveling in the United States, meeting fellow savant Kim Peek, developing his own website, Optimnem, with online courses for language learners, and appearing on the Late Show with David Letterman.
Many of these attainments were possible because of Daniel's brilliance as a savant. In addition to having an amazing memory, Tammet is also able to experience numbers and letters visually and emotionally. Within his mind he has a rare mixing of the senses called synesthesia that allows him to see letters of the alphabet or numbers in color and with texture. "Each one is unique and has its own personality," Tammet explains. It is because of this occurrence in his brain that Daniel is so capable of learning new languages and long sets of numbers (like Pi)--he can visualize the words and numbers chain as colorful landscapes in his head.
Aside from his successes, Daniel also describes the struggles he has faced and continues to face due to his autism and the important points of his person life, including falling in love with his partner, Neil. Overall, I found it really interesting to learn about how Tammet has been able to overcome the constraints of his disability and, instead of simply living a normal life, been able to lead an absolutely extraordinary life.
I had planned on reading this book long before I decided to join our AP Composition class because I had been introduced savant syndrome and to Daniel during my beloved AP Psychology class last year and wanted to learn more. Savants are absolutely incredible, and Daniel Tammet is no exception. For those of you who don't know, savant syndrome is generally described as a rare condition in which a person with a developmental disorder (which may or may not be found on the autistic spectrum like Daniel's is) has one or more areas of expertise, exceptional ability, or brilliance that contrast with his or her overall limitations that result from his/her disorder.
Many of you have probably seen Dustin Hoffman's portrayal of this amazing disorder in the movie Rain Man. Raymond Babbitt, Hoffman's character, is inspired by real-life savant Kim Peek--someone Daniel got to meet (which he recounts in his book). However, Kim Peek is slightly different from Daniel Tammet in that Peek suffers from severe brain damage whereas Tammet has autism.
Specifically, Daniel has Asperger's syndrome, a relatively mild and high-functioning form of autism. He explains autism is his book as follows:
Autism, including Asperger's syndrome, is defined by the presence of impairments affecting social interaction, communication, and imagination (problems with abstract or flexible thought and empathy, for example). . .People with Asperger's often have good language skills and are able to lead relatively normal lives. Many have above-average IQs and excel in areas that involve logical or visual thinking. . .Single-mindedness is a defining characteristic, as is a strong drive to analyze detail and identify rules and patterns in systems. Specialized skills involving memory, numbers, and mathematics are [also] common.
Being that Tammet's autism is, for the most part, non-limiting and that he is a savant with unbelievable abilities, he has been able to accomplish a number of incredible things so far, which he explains in Born on a Blue Day. Some of these achievements include traveling to Lithuania to teach women there how to speak English, learning ten different languages, memorizing the irrational number Pi to the 22,500th digit, being filmed in a documentary about himself while traveling in the United States, meeting fellow savant Kim Peek, developing his own website, Optimnem, with online courses for language learners, and appearing on the Late Show with David Letterman.
Many of these attainments were possible because of Daniel's brilliance as a savant. In addition to having an amazing memory, Tammet is also able to experience numbers and letters visually and emotionally. Within his mind he has a rare mixing of the senses called synesthesia that allows him to see letters of the alphabet or numbers in color and with texture. "Each one is unique and has its own personality," Tammet explains. It is because of this occurrence in his brain that Daniel is so capable of learning new languages and long sets of numbers (like Pi)--he can visualize the words and numbers chain as colorful landscapes in his head.
Aside from his successes, Daniel also describes the struggles he has faced and continues to face due to his autism and the important points of his person life, including falling in love with his partner, Neil. Overall, I found it really interesting to learn about how Tammet has been able to overcome the constraints of his disability and, instead of simply living a normal life, been able to lead an absolutely extraordinary life.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
How I Write
Since this blog is supposed to be about how I write, I think it's fair that I include a sentence or two about where I write, so I will let you know right now that I do not like to write in our computer labs at school. There's something about sitting in the sickly, grayish-yellow glow of the florescent lights, sliding around on those germy, blue chairs, and trying to get a thought transferred from mind to screen while listening to the obnoxious and distracting sound of 50 other hands tip-tapping away on keyboards (keyboards that often have reduced-sized backspace keys!) that really does NOT float my writing boat. For this reason, it took me about fifteen minutes to actually start this blog at school, leaving me about five minutes to type this paragraph out. There goes the bell. . .
I'm at home now and quite comfortable in my dimly-lit, often over-heated office. In this environment I am pretty set to jump into any writing assignment, which, honestly, is exactly what I do. I generally don't do outlines for formal writing if I don't have to. I feel like they slow me down. I understand that it's smart to organize your thoughts before hand, but why not save yourself the trouble later and put them into complete sentences? And why not slap 'em into a Word document while you're at it? It's so much easier for me to type out everything I can think of in a way I may actually feel comfortable turning in and go back to fill in the gaps later than it is for me to make an outline chock-full of gaps. It's worked for me so far, so you can't blame me for sticking to it; it's human nature to do what's worked best in the past.
Not only do I just plunge into writing, I'm also very likely to be writing based off of what I would call a Kohler faucet idea. Stay with me now--it's not so strange (well, maybe it is). You know those commercials where the husband and wife go to a fancy-pants architect and the woman says,"Design a house around this," and whips out a Kohler faucet? My brain does the same thing with ideas. I whip out a sentence or even just a set of words and tell myself, "Ali, design a paragraph around this." If it's a good enough idea, things usually just flow out after that. (Ha! Unintentional faucet joke!)
Sometimes, when that sentence or set of words is not school-related, I don't need to design the paragraph. All I need is to get that one thought out, and I'm usually willing to do that regardless of where I am or what I was just doing. If there's a napkin close by, a receipt in my bag, or room left on my hand, I'm going to write on it. It's the best way for me to deal with having something to say and no one to say it to. I've got a box in my room full of these must-document ideas and a journal too for the more serious, doesn't-quite-fit-on-a-gum-wrapper thoughts that also regularly assail my unsuspecting mind.
I suppose these habits of mine sort of align with Romano's idea of gushing--essentially hurdling anything and everything you can think of onto the page. However, I felt that I could relate more to Dr. Romano's advice when he gave it in regards to revising. Romano writes,"Read aloud. Feel the words in your mouth. Listen. Your sense of how language should sound is a great ally. You'll hear when words make music; you'll hear when they're discordant." This is exactly how I think about this revision technique (spot on, Tom!), though I sometimes take his words in the literal sense by attempting to actually turn my writing into music by "singing" it out loud as opposed to reading. Not only does this keep me engaged with my work (and anyone in earshot very entertained), it also helps me notice when the things I've written don't flow nicely. If I can't get through it with some kind of rhythm, there's a good chance that someone is going to have trouble reading it (especially considering the high probability that I keep terrible rhythm :) ).
Other than the fact that I struggle writing conclusions (often resulting in work that ends abruptly), I think that's it.
I'm at home now and quite comfortable in my dimly-lit, often over-heated office. In this environment I am pretty set to jump into any writing assignment, which, honestly, is exactly what I do. I generally don't do outlines for formal writing if I don't have to. I feel like they slow me down. I understand that it's smart to organize your thoughts before hand, but why not save yourself the trouble later and put them into complete sentences? And why not slap 'em into a Word document while you're at it? It's so much easier for me to type out everything I can think of in a way I may actually feel comfortable turning in and go back to fill in the gaps later than it is for me to make an outline chock-full of gaps. It's worked for me so far, so you can't blame me for sticking to it; it's human nature to do what's worked best in the past.
Not only do I just plunge into writing, I'm also very likely to be writing based off of what I would call a Kohler faucet idea. Stay with me now--it's not so strange (well, maybe it is). You know those commercials where the husband and wife go to a fancy-pants architect and the woman says,"Design a house around this," and whips out a Kohler faucet? My brain does the same thing with ideas. I whip out a sentence or even just a set of words and tell myself, "Ali, design a paragraph around this." If it's a good enough idea, things usually just flow out after that. (Ha! Unintentional faucet joke!)
Sometimes, when that sentence or set of words is not school-related, I don't need to design the paragraph. All I need is to get that one thought out, and I'm usually willing to do that regardless of where I am or what I was just doing. If there's a napkin close by, a receipt in my bag, or room left on my hand, I'm going to write on it. It's the best way for me to deal with having something to say and no one to say it to. I've got a box in my room full of these must-document ideas and a journal too for the more serious, doesn't-quite-fit-on-a-gum-wrapper thoughts that also regularly assail my unsuspecting mind.
I suppose these habits of mine sort of align with Romano's idea of gushing--essentially hurdling anything and everything you can think of onto the page. However, I felt that I could relate more to Dr. Romano's advice when he gave it in regards to revising. Romano writes,"Read aloud. Feel the words in your mouth. Listen. Your sense of how language should sound is a great ally. You'll hear when words make music; you'll hear when they're discordant." This is exactly how I think about this revision technique (spot on, Tom!), though I sometimes take his words in the literal sense by attempting to actually turn my writing into music by "singing" it out loud as opposed to reading. Not only does this keep me engaged with my work (and anyone in earshot very entertained), it also helps me notice when the things I've written don't flow nicely. If I can't get through it with some kind of rhythm, there's a good chance that someone is going to have trouble reading it (especially considering the high probability that I keep terrible rhythm :) ).
Other than the fact that I struggle writing conclusions (often resulting in work that ends abruptly), I think that's it.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Response to "Is Google Making Us Stupid?"
Before I get into anything else, I want to say that this essay by Nicholas Carr was definitely my favorite of the three I've read so far. It interested me the most--so much of what Carr wrote reminded me of the fascinating things I learned about in AP Psychology last year. I just couldn't put it down. Carr had a well-supported idea too--he had at least one quote, study, or new point on every page. Most importantly, though: it was relatable.
After scratching my head all the way through Erdrich's article, I can not tell you how much I appreciated reading about something that pertains to just about every hour of every day of my life; Google has been my best friend longer than any person ever has been. I was anxious to read about something that I rely on so often, especially since the title suggested that this relationship of mine isn't really a good thing. "How could something that is designed to give information make me stupid?" I wondered, not wanting to believe that my closest companion could be doing me wrong. To my extreme dismay, Carr was able to answer this question quite thoroughly in his article. The Internet really has changed me (I thought friends weren't supposed to make you change!), and I really don't like it.
I can't stop thinking about it either. For me, this negative transformation is so evident. I can rarely focus. I get bored with homework. I get bored with reading (at present, I have six books on my bed-side table that I have started and can't get myself to finish). More than anything else, though: I Google, I skim, and I hastily sniff out the one sentence, the one paragraph, the one name, the one date, or the one something else on the web that answers my question. Before reading this essay, I thought that this use of the Internet--the way I can peruse over page after page, navigating quickly through a literal and metaphorical web of information--made my thinking more advanced. I had decided that speed was equivalent to efficiency and effectiveness. The faster I could figure something out, the sooner I could move on to "learning" the next thing and, in turn, the more I could "learn". It took this article to help me see that that's really not the case.
Thanks to Carr's essay, I'm wondering how many things I've actually learned as opposed to temporarily memorized long enough to regurgitate on tests or in papers. I bet there are more of those things than there are pages I've turned in books I've read in the past year. While reading Carr's article, I could most easily relate this learning and cognition of mine to Bruce Friedman's idea of "staccato" quality thinking. I bounce around from phrase to phrase, passage to passage, or site to site, collecting what I need from each, which I think is what Friedman meant when he explained it. However, I think my own "staccato" thinking extends beyond just accumulating the information in that I not only learn in a "staccato" way, I also recall information in a "staccato" way. During a test I bounce around my brain just like I would on the Internet, searching for that one thought that will answer question 43. It's so. . . not how it should be.
I notice this at home too. If I ask my older sister for help with homework questions when she's around, she almost always pulls an encyclopedia or two off the shelf (we have an entire World Book set that I haven't touched in years), flips them open, and looks for everything she can find about the topics I inquired about. She focuses on the entire subject of each question. I, on the other hand, can be found a few feet away, springing from site to site on the Net, looking to find those single pieces of information I need. In the end we both find the answers. She looks them up in books, and I look them up on the Internet. It sounds like a fair trade-off, but after reading this essay, it feels more like I'm having the Net read the books for me. It's like I can't handle reading a few pages in a book about each topic to find my answers. I need search engines like Google to guide me directly to them whereas my sister's search engine is. . .well. . .her brain.
She's thirty-one years old, meaning that just fifteen years ago she was in high school learning how to find the answers she needs. Just fifteen years ago, she learned that to research means to look information up in a book. These days, students like me (because I'm assuming I'm not alone here) have almost completely lost the ability to do this, or at least the desire to. I mean, honestly, how many of us have groaned when told that there's a required number of book sources for a research paper we have to write? How did we come to cast off this resource in just fifteen years? Could I say fifteen one more time? Probably!
All of that being said, I'm going to confess that I have no clue how I'd get by devoid of the Internet. I'm not saying that I couldn't manage without it; I'm just admitting that I've never even considered using something else instead. I use the Net for so much. We use the Net so much. Our AP Composition class is completely connected because of this blog (and I bet we're all Facebook friends too). All of our instructions and materials have to be accessed using the McFarland High School website. And, in all honesty, I used Google seven different times just while writing this blog. (This is probably where I would insert a clip of Brittney Spears singing "Slave 4 U" if YouTube wasn't throwing a hissy fit right now. . .go figure.)
I guess we just have to hope that we can reach a healthy stopping point in this technological expansion. Google's chief executive, Eric Schmidt, claims that the company is motivated "to solve problems that have never been solved before," but I think that Mr. Schmidt needs to realize that a big reason why some problems have never been solved before is because they've never been problems before. To me, it seems like half of technological advancement is convincing people that there's something wrong with something they're doing or something they have. While there are things out there that really can be made better with new technology, I think we're going to reach that "enough is enough" point fairly soon if we haven't already. The last thing I want is for Stanley Kubrick's prophecy to come true, and I would hope that I'm not the only one that feels that way.
After scratching my head all the way through Erdrich's article, I can not tell you how much I appreciated reading about something that pertains to just about every hour of every day of my life; Google has been my best friend longer than any person ever has been. I was anxious to read about something that I rely on so often, especially since the title suggested that this relationship of mine isn't really a good thing. "How could something that is designed to give information make me stupid?" I wondered, not wanting to believe that my closest companion could be doing me wrong. To my extreme dismay, Carr was able to answer this question quite thoroughly in his article. The Internet really has changed me (I thought friends weren't supposed to make you change!), and I really don't like it.
I can't stop thinking about it either. For me, this negative transformation is so evident. I can rarely focus. I get bored with homework. I get bored with reading (at present, I have six books on my bed-side table that I have started and can't get myself to finish). More than anything else, though: I Google, I skim, and I hastily sniff out the one sentence, the one paragraph, the one name, the one date, or the one something else on the web that answers my question. Before reading this essay, I thought that this use of the Internet--the way I can peruse over page after page, navigating quickly through a literal and metaphorical web of information--made my thinking more advanced. I had decided that speed was equivalent to efficiency and effectiveness. The faster I could figure something out, the sooner I could move on to "learning" the next thing and, in turn, the more I could "learn". It took this article to help me see that that's really not the case.
Thanks to Carr's essay, I'm wondering how many things I've actually learned as opposed to temporarily memorized long enough to regurgitate on tests or in papers. I bet there are more of those things than there are pages I've turned in books I've read in the past year. While reading Carr's article, I could most easily relate this learning and cognition of mine to Bruce Friedman's idea of "staccato" quality thinking. I bounce around from phrase to phrase, passage to passage, or site to site, collecting what I need from each, which I think is what Friedman meant when he explained it. However, I think my own "staccato" thinking extends beyond just accumulating the information in that I not only learn in a "staccato" way, I also recall information in a "staccato" way. During a test I bounce around my brain just like I would on the Internet, searching for that one thought that will answer question 43. It's so. . . not how it should be.
I notice this at home too. If I ask my older sister for help with homework questions when she's around, she almost always pulls an encyclopedia or two off the shelf (we have an entire World Book set that I haven't touched in years), flips them open, and looks for everything she can find about the topics I inquired about. She focuses on the entire subject of each question. I, on the other hand, can be found a few feet away, springing from site to site on the Net, looking to find those single pieces of information I need. In the end we both find the answers. She looks them up in books, and I look them up on the Internet. It sounds like a fair trade-off, but after reading this essay, it feels more like I'm having the Net read the books for me. It's like I can't handle reading a few pages in a book about each topic to find my answers. I need search engines like Google to guide me directly to them whereas my sister's search engine is. . .well. . .her brain.
She's thirty-one years old, meaning that just fifteen years ago she was in high school learning how to find the answers she needs. Just fifteen years ago, she learned that to research means to look information up in a book. These days, students like me (because I'm assuming I'm not alone here) have almost completely lost the ability to do this, or at least the desire to. I mean, honestly, how many of us have groaned when told that there's a required number of book sources for a research paper we have to write? How did we come to cast off this resource in just fifteen years? Could I say fifteen one more time? Probably!
All of that being said, I'm going to confess that I have no clue how I'd get by devoid of the Internet. I'm not saying that I couldn't manage without it; I'm just admitting that I've never even considered using something else instead. I use the Net for so much. We use the Net so much. Our AP Composition class is completely connected because of this blog (and I bet we're all Facebook friends too). All of our instructions and materials have to be accessed using the McFarland High School website. And, in all honesty, I used Google seven different times just while writing this blog. (This is probably where I would insert a clip of Brittney Spears singing "Slave 4 U" if YouTube wasn't throwing a hissy fit right now. . .go figure.)
I guess we just have to hope that we can reach a healthy stopping point in this technological expansion. Google's chief executive, Eric Schmidt, claims that the company is motivated "to solve problems that have never been solved before," but I think that Mr. Schmidt needs to realize that a big reason why some problems have never been solved before is because they've never been problems before. To me, it seems like half of technological advancement is convincing people that there's something wrong with something they're doing or something they have. While there are things out there that really can be made better with new technology, I think we're going to reach that "enough is enough" point fairly soon if we haven't already. The last thing I want is for Stanley Kubrick's prophecy to come true, and I would hope that I'm not the only one that feels that way.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Response to "Skunk Dreams"
Maybe it was the way Louise Erdrich's ideas jumped around without warning, maybe it was the way her piece seemed to lack a concrete theme--something to connect her many anecdotes, or maybe it was just the noisy teenagers outside my window slamming doors and screeching their tires into the wee small hours of the morning while I was trying to read this essay; whichever of those three (or whichever combination of the three) it was, something about reading "Skunk Dreams" really ticked me off.
It took me way too long to get through this essay. I found myself reading a portion (let's say the one about Erdrich's adult life in North Dakota), moving on to the next (after North Dakota would be the one about New Hampshire), and having to go back to the previous section to make sure I didn't miss the part where she transitioned or things she was referring back to. Turns out that, more often than not, she didn't transition and wasn't referring back to anything (at least nothing I had thought was important enough to be a main idea the first time I read it). A good number of my annotations ended with "WTF, lady?!" I just couldn't see where she was going with the writing.
Honestly, I'm still not totally sure that I understand Erdrich's point in the essay (if she even had one). She would choose to be a skunk? That's about all I can confidently conclude after reading this. There were plenty of times when I thought she was on to something else, but she usually managed to confuse me just a few sentences later. For example, on page 345 she included a large portion about the obstacles involved with getting what we desire in life, how those obstacles often disappear in dreams, and how obstacles can define us when we overcome them. I thought this part was interesting and, in turn, tried to ignore the fact that one of the only times I could relate to what she wrote was when she was quoting someone else. I even gave her credit for bringing up dreams for a third time and for relating back to the obstacle (the fence) from her dream in North Dakota (even though I was still trying to link that back to her skunk experience on the football field). I thought to myself, "Could this be some sort of unifying idea?!"
A person might assume so. . .at least up until page 347 when her newest focus seemed to be on her internal debate about whether Corbin's Park is a blessing (for preserving the land) or a curse (for locking up the wilderness and its animals and seeking pleasure through killing those animals). Though I wondered where the dream theme went, I was totally on board with this Catch-22 idea. I thought maybe Erdrich would finally impress me and go on to say something about being glad for the skunk in the football field because he didn't have to deal with being a resident at Corbin's Park at all. He was free to roam without fences. Without obstacles.
I thought she might also say that discovering Corbin's Park (a place that was very similar to somewhere she visited in a dream that she may or may not have had. . .seriously, I won't go all psychology buff on your hindquarters, but it's very possible that Louise Erdrich has a false memory on her hands) reminded her that we are the ones to decide our obstacles. Maybe I'm being too picky. It's not her fault she doesn't think like me. Still, this idea seemed to make a lot of sense to me because while Louise Erdrich is still deciding how she feels about Corbin's Park, the animals have already shown their contentedness with living there in how they don't try busting out through the flimsy areas in the fence--they don't see it as an obstacle. I guess this wasn't where Erdrich was going with the story considering she didn't touch the idea. . .
The one thing I actually wouldn't hesitate to commend Louise Erdrich on was her incredible way of explaining things. Her word choice was really creative and always painted a perfect picture in my head. If nothing else Erdrich's beautiful way of depicting details was the redeeming quality of her writing. However, it still bothers me that I had trouble finding a common thought among the sections of her essay--as far as I'm concerned, there is nothing other than coincidence linking the author's life in Valley City to the one she had in the Northeast. I know that there are some people out there who are so brilliant that they don't need a unifying idea for their work, but, in my (somewhat harsh) opinion, Louise Erdrich is not one of those people.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Response to "The Talk of the Town"
Prior to reading this essay, I don't think I ever really thought about the controversial issue of gun control. Don't get me wrong--debating contentious topics with others or even with myself always provides for a fun, interesting time, but I'm usually more of a tree-hugging, Fourteenth Amendment-preaching kind o' gal. However, Adam Gopnik helped me recognize that seriously managing the accessibility of guns is just as important to keeping people protected and happy as saving the environment and allowing for equal rights are.
Not only did Gopnik's writing remind me that gun control is a litigious issue (with all the stuff people quarrel about these days, it's hard to keep track. . .), his points also facilitated my concluding that it really shouldn't be. It shouldn't be an issue because, in my opinion, it's outrageous that anyone could argue that it's okay to stay the way we are. Look at what's happened! This situation with guns has gotten way out of hand. Gopnik noted that killers in the United States have been responsible for half of the fourteen worst mass shootings in Western democracies since the 1960's. He also offered three examples of situations in which making gun laws more strict resulted in fewer shootings. How can people say that we don't need to fix anything when the death toll keeps rising AND when making alterations has already been proven effective in other places?
The only way I could see controversy about gun control being okay is if it were in regards to exactly how we're going to change it, not whether or not we should (and maybe that is what the fuss is all about. . .I'm not entirely sure. Like I said, I'm new to this topic.). Gopnik explained that the Virginia Tech shooter was "an obviously disturbed student with a history of mental illness," yet he was still permitted to buy weapons that kill. Why aren't background checks a mandatory part of gun sales (or the sale of any weaponry for that matter)? Why are these guns even available for purchase? If a person wants to hunt, they'll probably want to buy a hunting gun, so why bother selling any other kind to the public? Selling someone a gun that's meant for killing people sort of seems like asking for trouble.
Also, Gopnik brought up the point that people think that "healing" can take place without "treating"-- that immediately after something bad happens is the wrong time to talk about how it can be remedied. I found this idea to be very truthful in that it, sadly, is exactly how a good number of people react. While I understand that grieving is both difficult and necessary, I think that it's somewhat upsetting that one party's sheltered healing disables the prevention of another party's tragedy. It would be nice if more stories like the one Gopnik included about the school shooting in Quebec were made known. In that case the survivors worked together to begin a gun-control movement that eventually led to laws that reduced shooting sprees in Canada. Stories like this might help inspire those affected by misfortunes to try to turn their own negative feelings into positive changes.
I think I speak for a lot of people when I say that Susan Sontag certainly managed to smother a good mood with this piece. Though I feel that her negativity may not have been the best thing for her case, she did bring up some good points. I think that it's true that the public really isn't "asked to bear much of the burden of reality." So much of what happens in the world (not just in Iraq) isn't reported to us, and whether or not that really is because American officials and the media work to keep things from us, I agree that it's wrong for a mature democracy to withhold serious information in favor of letting us know things like whether or not the painkiller Demerol really was the cause of Michael Jackson's death. Too soon? My apologies. . .
I also found Sontag's writing a little hard to understand. I am quite possibly the world's biggest fan of long sentences and even I was finding some of hers a little overwhelming. Maybe I was just having a rough day, but while I felt like her word choice was very sophisticated, I also found it a little condescending. Of course, that's not to say that Susan Sontag is not a great, reliable writer; there's absolutely nothing wrong with strong word choice. Aside from the depressing quality to her piece, Suzie did some nice work in her portion of this essay.
Not only did Gopnik's writing remind me that gun control is a litigious issue (with all the stuff people quarrel about these days, it's hard to keep track. . .), his points also facilitated my concluding that it really shouldn't be. It shouldn't be an issue because, in my opinion, it's outrageous that anyone could argue that it's okay to stay the way we are. Look at what's happened! This situation with guns has gotten way out of hand. Gopnik noted that killers in the United States have been responsible for half of the fourteen worst mass shootings in Western democracies since the 1960's. He also offered three examples of situations in which making gun laws more strict resulted in fewer shootings. How can people say that we don't need to fix anything when the death toll keeps rising AND when making alterations has already been proven effective in other places?
The only way I could see controversy about gun control being okay is if it were in regards to exactly how we're going to change it, not whether or not we should (and maybe that is what the fuss is all about. . .I'm not entirely sure. Like I said, I'm new to this topic.). Gopnik explained that the Virginia Tech shooter was "an obviously disturbed student with a history of mental illness," yet he was still permitted to buy weapons that kill. Why aren't background checks a mandatory part of gun sales (or the sale of any weaponry for that matter)? Why are these guns even available for purchase? If a person wants to hunt, they'll probably want to buy a hunting gun, so why bother selling any other kind to the public? Selling someone a gun that's meant for killing people sort of seems like asking for trouble.
Also, Gopnik brought up the point that people think that "healing" can take place without "treating"-- that immediately after something bad happens is the wrong time to talk about how it can be remedied. I found this idea to be very truthful in that it, sadly, is exactly how a good number of people react. While I understand that grieving is both difficult and necessary, I think that it's somewhat upsetting that one party's sheltered healing disables the prevention of another party's tragedy. It would be nice if more stories like the one Gopnik included about the school shooting in Quebec were made known. In that case the survivors worked together to begin a gun-control movement that eventually led to laws that reduced shooting sprees in Canada. Stories like this might help inspire those affected by misfortunes to try to turn their own negative feelings into positive changes.
I think I speak for a lot of people when I say that Susan Sontag certainly managed to smother a good mood with this piece. Though I feel that her negativity may not have been the best thing for her case, she did bring up some good points. I think that it's true that the public really isn't "asked to bear much of the burden of reality." So much of what happens in the world (not just in Iraq) isn't reported to us, and whether or not that really is because American officials and the media work to keep things from us, I agree that it's wrong for a mature democracy to withhold serious information in favor of letting us know things like whether or not the painkiller Demerol really was the cause of Michael Jackson's death. Too soon? My apologies. . .
I also found Sontag's writing a little hard to understand. I am quite possibly the world's biggest fan of long sentences and even I was finding some of hers a little overwhelming. Maybe I was just having a rough day, but while I felt like her word choice was very sophisticated, I also found it a little condescending. Of course, that's not to say that Susan Sontag is not a great, reliable writer; there's absolutely nothing wrong with strong word choice. Aside from the depressing quality to her piece, Suzie did some nice work in her portion of this essay.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
an introduction of sorts. . .
Okay. . .I have been snooping around on all of your blogs for the past hour or so (pardon my creeping) and I'm starting to get the feeling that I'm supposed to come up with some things about me to post in (on?) my blog. While I'd like to argue that there isn't anything worth posting, something tells me that I should probably just get it done. So, here it goes.
My name is Alison Carollo, but I've always been called Ali. I've never thought that I looked like an Alison. Like most of you, I will be a senior this year, and the thought of that is a little daunting to me. Actually, no. . .it's terrifying. I'm so excited for my experience at a university to be everything McFarland hasn't been, which results in my getting a wee bit nauseous every time I hear the word "college." Of course, I'm a world-class over-reactor, so please don't let my insecurities and distorted perceptions of reality impact how you feel about your futures.
Anyway, writing things like this is always a bit difficult for me because I can never think of anything that seems interesting enough (or normal enough--see above for proof!) to write about. I think I’ve always been a relatively shy person, though I don’t know that many people would describe me as such. In fact, at present, I can't think of anyone that would vouch for this self-bestowed label. How sad it is that I'm surrounded by people who mistake insanity for confidence? I'm kidding (mostly). Labeling people is dumb anyway. Labels are for filing systems and canned produce.
Alright, I need to be more serious considering a good portion of the last paragraph had nothing to do with me. Let's see. . .I’m fairly certain that college (cue queasiness), grades, and success in general are the things I think about most. It's a little sad but it's just how I am.
On the very rare occasions that I manage to get my mind off of doing well in life, I usually find myself realizing just how strange I must seem to the people around me. I often use exaggerated arm gestures and almost indescribable noises to compensate for my frequent inability to express myself verbally. For example, when I get excited, I typically forget that my limbs bend and am known for making "the noise." (If you're not familiar with it, you will be by the time this class is over. However, if you want to be ahead of the game, you're going to need to watch (and appreciate) this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFKFyzP34lc)
I like some alternative and rock music but would much rather sing along (badly) with songs from countless musicals I’ve seen or am dying to see. Current obsession: In the Heights. I also want to see the world, especially Europe, but, more importantly, I want to save the world from so many things, a few being discrimination of any kind, killing of the environment, animal cruelty, hunger, war, and overpriced jeans.
Also, if you haven't noticed by now, I am quite partial to parenthesis and the color purple.
My name is Alison Carollo, but I've always been called Ali. I've never thought that I looked like an Alison. Like most of you, I will be a senior this year, and the thought of that is a little daunting to me. Actually, no. . .it's terrifying. I'm so excited for my experience at a university to be everything McFarland hasn't been, which results in my getting a wee bit nauseous every time I hear the word "college." Of course, I'm a world-class over-reactor, so please don't let my insecurities and distorted perceptions of reality impact how you feel about your futures.
Anyway, writing things like this is always a bit difficult for me because I can never think of anything that seems interesting enough (or normal enough--see above for proof!) to write about. I think I’ve always been a relatively shy person, though I don’t know that many people would describe me as such. In fact, at present, I can't think of anyone that would vouch for this self-bestowed label. How sad it is that I'm surrounded by people who mistake insanity for confidence? I'm kidding (mostly). Labeling people is dumb anyway. Labels are for filing systems and canned produce.
Alright, I need to be more serious considering a good portion of the last paragraph had nothing to do with me. Let's see. . .I’m fairly certain that college (cue queasiness), grades, and success in general are the things I think about most. It's a little sad but it's just how I am.
On the very rare occasions that I manage to get my mind off of doing well in life, I usually find myself realizing just how strange I must seem to the people around me. I often use exaggerated arm gestures and almost indescribable noises to compensate for my frequent inability to express myself verbally. For example, when I get excited, I typically forget that my limbs bend and am known for making "the noise." (If you're not familiar with it, you will be by the time this class is over. However, if you want to be ahead of the game, you're going to need to watch (and appreciate) this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFKFyzP34lc)
I like some alternative and rock music but would much rather sing along (badly) with songs from countless musicals I’ve seen or am dying to see. Current obsession: In the Heights. I also want to see the world, especially Europe, but, more importantly, I want to save the world from so many things, a few being discrimination of any kind, killing of the environment, animal cruelty, hunger, war, and overpriced jeans.
Also, if you haven't noticed by now, I am quite partial to parenthesis and the color purple.
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