Awesome Author

Beautiful pieces of work become famous for a reason. "The Death of the Moth", an essay by Virginia Woolf, has stayed in my mind for long after I have read it. With astounding description and creative syntax, she truly does deserve to be called "one of the greatest twentieth-century writers".

She creates a whimsical tone (without any winking!) of delight when she describes the moth as "a tiny bead of pure life", "(decked) with down and feathers", and "dancing... zigzagging". Her word choice in that sentence- and, yes, all of those examples came from one sentence- can make any literary fanatic swoon. With plenty of figurative language, her description of  nearly everything is pleasing to imagine, too. The "rooks", or crows, are compared to a large net with "thousands of black knots" that "sank slowly down upon the trees" in an intricate simile, evoking a sense of peace. She compares the struggling moth to a "machine, that has stopped momentarily" to convey her sense of indifference at the onset of his death, too. She, also, draws wonderful parallels from the moth's life to her own. Though it might be morbid, her claims of "Nothing I knew had any chance against death" and "O yes... death is stronger than I am" are relatable and relevant statements even for today, seventy years after publication.

Right up there with Vladimir Nabokov, author of Lolita, and Jodi Picoult, author of My Sister's Keeper, Nineteen Minutes, and more, Virginia Woolf has found herself a place among my favorite authors.

Crafts: Eggs

The world is not a large Sims game. It is not designed nor suitable for one person to dictate the choices of another- much less his whole life. Crafting a child in hopes of him to acquire certain genes is not just superficial; it is a sin against nature.

Amy Chua, author of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom,  has received harsh criticism from reviewers and mothers around the world. They have argued that her repression of a her children's spontaneity and free will is cruel. If asked, these critics would also be against engineering specific traits into offspring. It is the same concept that Chua uses, but only at its earliest stage. Both actions lead to complete control over the child, and, who knows, maybe the child will be extremely successful or stunningly gorgeous. But, these accomplishments then cannot be attributed to the child. The all-controlling parents would take pride in setting up their children, in using them as pawns in a game of "look how much better I am than you because my child is better than yours". Like a primitive land being invaded by a great world power, the poor child is then given a strict mold to fit, losing any unique benefits it could have given the world. Maybe, had the parents not tried to play God, their children could still be successful- emotionally, financially, spiritually- and the child might be less likely to hate them for tampering with the natural course of life.

Daughters of Amy Tan

From a stranger's perspective, I'm a wonderful hybrid of two cultures: Chinese and American. However, I can't identify completely with that label. I am a rather light-skinned Asian. I speak fluent English, but choppy Chinese and even worse Korean. I'm part of the rather large Asian minority at my high school, but I can't eat with chopsticks- or, to be fair, I really dislike to. I am Amy Tan during her high school years.

In "Fish Cheeks", Amy is embarrassed by her Chinese heritage and is given a lesson by her mother: (simply) be proud of who you are. Whereas there is nothing wrong with assimilating into a new culture, the way Amy tries to do it is shameful. She rejects her favorite dishes and despises her loud family, turning red at every reminder. She needed to do so, though. In passing through this immature phase, she, finally, understands the importance of her history. She knows that staying "Chinese on the inside" helps her find her identity.

However, if she progressed through high school with only absorbing half the knowledge her mother imparted on her, she'd turn out similarly to me. She'd admit that it's hard to hold onto traditions of the old land when contemporary, Americanized behaviors are thrown at her. She'd know that when elderly Chinese Aunties tell her (in Chinese, of course), "Oh! You look so beautiful! Almost like a white girl!" that it's okay to cringe at the racial stereotype. She'd understand that being split in two cultures is too hard to do and that she can't succeed in fully maintaining both halves of the whole.

Angelou, February, and the Jewish

In an excerpt from Maya Angelou's I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings about her memories of Joe Louis' boxing match, Angelou frequently references back to her "people", her "[race's]" history. With pity-invoking diction, she details how Louis losing the match would equivocate getting thrown back into slavery. Most importantly, however, she ironically points out that even though he's won and she feels as if they "are the strongest people in the world", they are still afraid.

As she writes about an age where segregation and open racism runs rampant, I became entertained with our modern response to slavery and inequalities: Black History Month. As the instigator of Black History Month's forerunner Negro History Week, Dr. Carter G. Woodson started the event to bring attention to the contributions of African Americans as they were commonly unmentioned. But, why do we still celebrate it today? Why do we,  the world's "melting pot" of culture, still partake in the remembrance of only one culture for four weeks (and an additional day- every four years)? I believe this special month is completely unnecessary. It is fear that keeps it going. Fear that removing the holiday would raise question's on one's integrity: Are YOU racist? But, my answer is a strong and convicted "NO!". As a minority myself, I find it pointless to exclude or offend another person based on what he's born as. Then, why would I want to get rid of such a supposedly significant part of contemporary life?

Contradicting Angelou's viewpoint, I believe the past should not stay with you. It should empower you, drive you to your fullest potential, maybe even caution you sometimes, but your history should never chain you down. If African American's want to be fully "equal", their special month should be removed. The same goes for Jewish American History Month. And no, I'm not anti-semitic either. Yes, slavery was crude, cruel, and stupid and the Holocaust was disgustingly unjust, barbaric, and horrendous. But, giving two months for special remembrance isn't going to erase the terrible things that have happened. These are the dirty secrets of the human race that we all must carry inside, knowing that our ancestors have caused, endured, or ignored these acts. We do not need "special months" to remember these facts. We need only to look around us, see the still standing damage of our past,  and recognize that rebuilding still needs to occur.

Words

The recognition and usage rate for the f-word is unbelievable. A four-year-old will hear it, use it, be punished, and learn it's a "bad word", a teacher will walk by two students talking about their f-ing great weekend plans and understand their overwhelming excitement, and maybe even you've used it in a moment of distress. But, in all of these situations, the word is never used to describe "plowing, as in a field" (Germanic origins)- just like how the word niger (Latin root) was never meant to evolve into a derogatory term for African Americans.

However, why do some pejoratives deliver a stronger impact than others? In A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansbury, Mrs. Johnson exclaims, "Why if we left it up to these here crackers, the poor niggers wouldn't have nothing- (She clasps her hand over her mouth.)- Oh, I always forgets you (Mama) don't 'low that word in your house." Mama solemnly replies, "No- I don't 'low it." But, crackers... Mrs. Johnson uses the word "crackers" with the word "nigger". Crackers is a negative slang term for white people, though fairly uncommon now, but why isn't it also banned in her home? It originates from a white man cracking a whip on his animals, his slaves; a man who slashed new, disgusting scars on humanity's history; someone who has corrupted the God given order of love among his people. Why is that word allowed?

Because society as a whole gives power to it's language and has deemed that only a certain set of words are "bad". We can connote anything to any word, but it's easier if we just embrace what we've been handed. So, we can fall into three categories: those who use the words freely, those who abstain out of respect to the public, or those who abstain because they believe it is the "right" thing to do. Whatever category you fall into though,  it's possible to collectively negate the unsavory associations of such powerful words: stop using swears as a slam and stop reacting harshly to unpleasant words. As a group, we have a language, but as an individual we can change what it all means.

My City: Troy

James Weldon Johnson captures my beliefs in his sonnet "My City". His use of rhetorical devices creatively conveys his point that the city life is far superior to the beauties of nature. Even though he questions whether he'll miss the "smell of flowers" or "singing birds", he decisively chooses the city's "sights and sounds" when he has to "sleep death's endless night".

Troy has a population of approximately 81, 500 people and it seems rather dismal when compared to Manhattan's staggering population of 1,602,000. Even though the size of a party doesn't determine how fun it will be, a large amount of people in one place ensures that you are never alone, albeit maybe still lonely even surrounded by people like in "The Weary Blues" when the singer croons "ain't got nobody in all this world... but ma self". Also, it promises the atmosphere is always charged with possibilities. For instance, everything in Troy is closed by 8 pm and the suburban houses have been locked, with their porch lights on, by 9 pm. It's boring. But at 10 pm in Manhattan, the night life is just waking up. True, our cute little city does have more nice city-maintained parks and pretty nature trails, but I would gladly give it up for "the thrill that comes from being of her (Manhattan) a part".

Times have changed since Johnson, but city life is just as rambunctious and beautiful!

 <- Manhattan!

<- ... Troy...

Outside/Inside

Instead of calling the 20's a Jazz Age, I think it would be more fitting if we called it the "Extended Gilded Age". On surface level, Jordan is a talented young woman in a male dominated sport, wealthy, young, and pretty, but underneath it all, she has the personality of a stick and the morality of a naughty child.

Her rise to fame in golfing only came about because she deliberately cheated in a match, illegally moving the ball. As she continues her career, her immoral decision doesn't seem to bother her. Fitzgerald also shows us her particular mindset by Nick commenting on her bad driving. Since she believes it takes two to cause an accident, she is fine with being dangerous and unfair. The high social status she carries should show that she is more refined than that, that she is educated enough to make "good" choices for society's benefit. However, like most of the East-Eggers, she takes her money for granted and doesn't care much for  life or others. Her quick engagement at the end of the novel shows her inability to think ahead as she currently coasts from party to party.

Her inner emptiness reminds me of the students whose lives are falling apart internally. Yes, they look great on paper. 4.0 GPA, president of two clubs, varsity sports..., but they have to cope with mental stipulations, too. They might be socially awkward, or completely bipolar, or filled with rage problems.  Their wonderful exterior shell conceals the roughness beneath.

The good-on-outside-bad-on-inside cliche can be found throughout history, from the 20's to now, and probably even before.


By the way...
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