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."

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. . .

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.

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 :)

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. . .

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.

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.