Where I’m From–let me know what you think
Current mood:poetic

I am from Sharpies,
From Pathmark (no frills) and Goya,
I am from the always bustling with something,
Expansive, complicated, simple aroma of salty, brown, crisp pork chops cooked to perfection,
I am from the snowball bushes
and the roses
that came from my mother’s green thumb.
I’m from homemade everything and everything big and loud,
from Big Draws to the Rollie Pollie Ollies, the Klumps, the Grizwalds and the Coneheads.
I am from the pushy lovers
and the cookers,
From “you are a nerd”
and “I love you.”
I’m from Christianity,
church family every Sunday,
I’m from Jesse Jackson’s Rainbow Coalition,
From Adobo and rice and beans.
From the time when someone pulled their eye out with a daycare toy though he wasn’t a child.
The rolls in my closet, on the walls, and in my paintings mean more to me than they will ever know…..they might have saved my life.

*An Original by Christine Galletly

Interested in sharing where you are from:  http://www.swva.net/fred1st/wif.htm

]]> http://moonltbutterfly.wordpress.com/2009/07/20/where-im-from/feed/ 0 moonltbutterfly http://moonltbutterfly.wordpress.com/2009/07/20/it-is-choice-not-chance-that-determines-destiny-whats-your-choice/ http://moonltbutterfly.wordpress.com/2009/07/20/it-is-choice-not-chance-that-determines-destiny-whats-your-choice/#comments Mon, 20 Jul 2009 17:40:22 +0000 moonltbutterfly http://moonltbutterfly.wordpress.com/?p=15 ]]> I usually blog on myspace, but I don’t really go on myspace, and this is a message I want to share with all I can though I am sad all of my graphics didn’t come through….enjoy!

Let’s talk about choices….
Current mood: enlightened

I have come to a startling/horrific realization….one that has been on the tip of my tongue for years, one that has inspired and motivated me…..but I haven’t really talked about or fully understood until now…. : people have choices….

And the thing that I was thinking about is: how can a person make a choice that they do not know is there?

I know, here I go rambling again. lol

I’ll try to clarify. Maybe I should tell you what made me realize this….or part of it, cause it’s not my story to tell….

I used to live in NY, ya’ll know that, but let me tell you something about the school systems in NY. Unless you don’t have an AP class or etc, you don’t hear about college. Basically, people, in education, families…don’t prepare young people. OUR young people are not PREPARED. How dare we criticize the youth of today? They do not know what choices they have….they do not have options, they lack persistence. And maybe I could blame it on the alcohol or the economy, but this has been a progressive problem. AND it mainly has to do with the fact that our youth lack role models. Our youth lack resources. Our youth is lacking in motivation. Our youth do not know what choices or options they have, so they do what they think is best. THEy don’t know any better. I feel so saddened when I think back about all of the people I grew up with. Do you know how many went to college and got a certificate or degree? Me. Graduated high school? A few. Got pregnant? Too many. In jail? *Sigh* We have a problem with our society. We are not taking care of our youth.

But I don’t think this is a lost cause. Never say die! I think if we each can just take a stand and be the best we can be, and let young people see….let young people see that they have options and no longer have to be limited….our young people need support, and they are failing because society expects less, gives less……the world has become so open minded, but has forgot about our youth.

What can YOU do? Simply touch the lives around you. If you can just be a model, be an example, have a discussion about choices with a brother, sister, niece, nephew, cousin, neighbor. AND you don’t have to be perfect….just be sincere and supportive. Say, “Young person, what do you want to do? Do you have a plan? Do you know what’s available for you?”

And if you’re reading this and don’t know, I will tell you now: you have a choice. You have options. You can make a plan. You can do anything that you set your mind to, and as long as it’s legal and moral, I support you in it. You are not trapped or worthless.

Does that make sense?

Because I look around at parents today and I am saddened because they are not doing their jobs, and I now realize and remember what motivates me to involved in young people’s lives, why I live the way I do. I have made a choice because someone presented them to me. Because someone taught me how to critically think. Because someone taught me how to think outside the box, and think of all avenues, so even when I have a plan A and B, I also have a C that I can live with. Hope and persistence have been instilled in me because I know I have choices, and even in my darkest hour am never alone. Neither are you.

I don’t know if this makes sense. But if you could part with one message from my blog today, part with this: You have choices. The sky is not the limit. There are no limits with love and faithfulness But also pass that on. Pass it to our young people. Because there are so many dying, making bad choices because they feel trapped. Let them know their options. Let them know someone cares. Do me a favor and be a role model, God knows we need ‘em…

….okay…I’ll get off my soap box for now. But I will never stop shining, hoping and persisting…

Interesting Read:  A Framework for Understanding Poverty by Dr. Ruby Payne

Truly, Richard Wright is the Father of African American Literature, for he brought forth novels that changed the way society thinks. Using the style native of the Great Depression, literary naturalism, Wright spoke out against hatred, racism, and tapped into the hunger and trapped feeling that gnaws at all human beings. He opened the door for other African American writers, such as Ralph Ellison and James Baldwin (Jerry Jazz Musician). But why did he work so hard to change society? What experiences did he face that made him want to write with such brutality? Why did he use clubs to beat at the humiliation and shame that society’s racism created for Americans? What exactly was at the core of a black boy?

Richard Wright wrote Black Boy in 1945 as an autobiography. He did not do so to share the story of his life, but rather, he focused on the humiliation, poverty and pain that shaped his life, as well as the lives of his fellow Americans. He wanted to show the real shame that existed in the racist South. He called the first half of Black Boy, “Southern Night.” He presented readers with the life of the South and his struggle to survive. All of these struggles fueled his hunger to write something to promote social change. He spoke, not only of racism, but also educational and family values that needed to change.

First of all, Wright was born in Mississippi in 1908. He had a younger brother. Wright’s parents took Wright and his brother to Memphis. Things seemed okay at first, but soon after settling in, Wright’s father abandoned the family. It took a while for his mother to get on her feet. In the book, Wright recalls a constant feeling of hunger because they were abandoned, poor and struggling.

“But I’m hungry!” She was ironing and she paused and looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Where is your father?” she asked me. I stared in bewilderment [...] “I don’t know.” “Who brings food into the house?” “Papa,” I said. “He always brought food.” “Well, your father isn’t here now,” she said [...] “But I’m hungry,” I whimpered, stomping my feet. [...] As the days slid past the image of my father became associated with my pangs of hunger, and whenever I felt hunger I thought of him with a deep biological bitterness. (Wright 17)

Wright’s mother eventually found work. He did not have a babysitter, so he roamed the streets. He would go into bars where men would fill him with liquor and nickels for saying nasty things to women. He was only six. Of course, when his mother found out, she rightfully “beat the taste of liquor out of his mouth” (Wright 22).

Wright had to be tough at such a young age, which shaped his personality and writing style. For example, when he was eight years old, his mother sent him for groceries, but being small, a group of kids took his money and slapped him around. Like any child would, he ran to his mother, crying. However, she did not comfort him. Again, he was sent back a second time, and the boys were there waiting. Again, he ran to his mother after the gang stole his money. His mother was furious, and Wright was scared and hungry. Nonetheless, his mother sent him back, yet a third time-this time with a stick. Wright’s mother would not let him in the house until he brought home the groceries. He had to be brave. His mother knew there was not room for weak black boys in the society that they lived in. Experiences shaped Wright to be stubborn and strong. However, he was always hungry, and that feeling never went away. In fact, it strengthened when the family had to move back to Mississippi with Wright’s grandmother due to his mother’s stroke.

While Wright’s brother moved with an uncle, Wright decided to stay in Mississippi to be close to his mother. Wright was enrolled in school, and soon was an adolescent. I love the way Wright describes how he was a “man” because it is still seen this way in today’s society.

It was degrading to play with girls and in our talk we relegated them to a remote island of life. We had somehow caught the spirit of the role of our sex and we flocked together for common moral schooling. We spoke boastfully in bass voices; we used the word “nigger” to prove the tough fiber of our feelings; we spouted excessive profanity as a sign of our coming manhood; we pretended callousness towards the injunctions of our parents; and we strove to convince one another that our decisions stemmed from ourselves and ourselves alone. Yet we frantically concealed how dependent we were upon one another. (Wright 78)

Wright realized that even in adolescence, he was playing a role society gave him. It was embedded in his being, in his environment, and in others around him.

One event that really made him decide to write was a conversation that he had with a white woman who he was going to work for while he lived in the South.

“What grade are you in school?” “Seventh ma’am.” “Then why are you going to school?” she asked in surprise. “Well, I want to be a writer,” I mumbled, unsure of myself [...]. “A what?” she demanded. “A writer,” I mumbled. “For what?” “To write stories, I mumbled defensively. “You’ll never be a writer,” she said. “Who on earth put such ideas into your nigger head?” “Nobody,” I said. “I didn’t think anybody ever would,” she declared indignantly. As I walked around her house to the street, I knew that I would not go back. The woman had assaulted my ego; she had assumed that she knew my place in life, what I felt, what I ought to be, and I resented it with all my heart. (Wright 147)

The fact that this woman acted this way made him want to write even more. Humans often go after what others say they cannot have. Wright wanted to prove her, and those who thought like her, wrong. As a result, Wright definitely had a problem with “authority.” His family was worried about this and wanted to break his spirit to protect him. However, Wright did not understand this at the time. For example, one morning Wright was woken up by his Uncle Tom.

“What time have you?” I thought he asked me, but I was not sure. “Hunh?” I mumbled sleepily. “What time have you got?” he repeated. [...] “Eighteen past five,” I mumbled. Eighteen past five?” he asked. “Yes, sir.” “Now, is that the right time?” he asked again. [...] “It’s right,” I said, snuggling back into my pillow. “If it’s a little slow or fast, it’s not far wrong.” [...] “What do you mean boy?” he asked in loud anger. “What do I mean?” I asked bewildered. “I mean what I said.” [...] “Why you impudent black rascal.” [...] “What’s the matter with you Uncle Tom?” I asked. ‘What’s wrong with what I said?” “This day I’m going to give you the whipping some man ought to have given you long ago.” (Wright 158-159)

However, Uncle Tom would not beat Wright. Wright would not let him. He even went as far as to threaten his uncle with a razor. He would not let him beat him, especially since there was no reason. He said, “I could not get used to it, how can they accept it?” (Wright 178) He could not accept daily degradation and humiliation. Wright did not see the reason behind a broken spirit; he wanted to live his life. However, Wright knew that could never be if he stayed where he was. Wright said,

I knew that I lived in a country in which the aspirations of black people were limited, marked off. Yet I felt that I had to go somewhere to redeem my being alive. I was building up in me a dream which the entire educational system of the South had been rigged to stifle. I was feeling the very thing that the state of Mississippi had spent millions of dollars to make sure that I would never feel; I was becoming aware of the thing that the Jim Crow laws had been drafted and passed to keep out of my consciousness; I was acting on impulses that southern senators in the nation’s capital had striven to keep out of Negro life; I was beginning to dream the dreams that the state had said were wrong, that the schools had said were taboo. (Wright 169)

Wright wanted to go to the North, where he thought the dreams of black people were not stifled, and he could find the freedom and happiness in writing. He saved his money, and bided his time working for white people while pretending to conform into the role of a “normal,” obedient, humble black person. While biding his time, he saw and experienced things that angered him even more. His anger became his fuel to write in the future.

For example, Wright began to save money, and he started to work in a hotel. He noticed that others stole whatever they found. He was called dumb by his fellow employees. They asked, “How are you going to get ahead?” However, he did not see the point in it, and he was mad that they stole because it was what white people expected from them; it kept them trapped. He explained,

So, pretending to conform to the laws of the whites, grinning, bowing, they let their fingers stick to what they could touch. And the whites seemed to like it. But I, who stole nothing, who wanted to look them straight in the face, who wanted to talk and act like a man, inspired fear in them. The southern whites would rather have had Negroes who stole, work for them than Negroes who knew, however dimly, the worth of their own humanity. Hence, whites placed a premium upon black deceit; they encouraged irresponsibility; and their rewards were bestowed upon us blacks in the degree that we could make them feel safe and superior. (Wright 200)

However, disgusted, Wright continued to work so that he could leave this behind. Soon, Wright got an opportunity to forge notes and read books from the library. He would read them on his lunch breaks; of course, they were hidden. After reading H.L. Mencken’s books, Prejudices and A Book of Prefaces, he became inspired. He found a new way to fight.

…Yes this man was fighting, fighting with words. He was using words as a weapon, using them as one would use a club. Could words be a weapon? Well, yes, for here they were. Then, maybe, perhaps, I could use them as a weapon? No. It frightened me. I read on and what amazed me was not what he said, but how on earth anyone had the courage to say it. (Wright 248)

Wright had tried to write before, but family and his peers looked down upon his writing. Society did not want him to write. It made him a threat. However, after reading, he felt inspired to write again in order to promote change, not just tell a story. He described,

I had once tried to write, had once reveled in feeling, had let my crude imagination roam, but the impulse to dream had been beaten out of me by experience. Now it surged up again and I hungered for books. It was not a matter of believing or disbelieving what I read, but of feeling something new, of being affected by something that made the world look different [...] I now felt what the white men were feeling. Merely because I had read a book that had spoken of how they lived and thought, I identified myself with that book. (Wright 249)

He thought that he could write something that would reveal what society was doing to America, and America’s perspectives would change as his did. He was so disgusted by his environment, and everybody in it because they were all trapped. Wright thought, “Although they lived in an America where in theory there existed equality of opportunity, they knew unerringly what to aspire to and what not to aspire to.” (Wright 197) He wanted to change the fact that black people could not reach for high goals because society would not let them. He also knew that black people were not the only ones affected by segregation and ignorance, but whites too. He said,

Yes, the whites were as miserable as their black victims, I thought. If this country can’t find its way to a human path, if we can’t inform conduct with a deep sense of life, then all of us, black as well as white, are going down the same drain. (Wright 383)

He understood this, and wanted to show others what the restrictions of society were doing to the future of America.

In the second part of Black Boy, which was not published until 1977 in Black Boy: American Hunger because of the Communistic aspects it included, Wright discussed the pains that he experienced in the North, as well as his struggle to find his way as a writer during the Great Depression. The Communist Party was a big part of his struggle. He joined the Communist Party so that he could be part of a magazine and fellowship with writers. This was where his problem with authority came in again. The Communist Party wanted him to take part in Communist activities that he did not agree with. He did not agree with their policies or their motives. When he did write anything, the Communist Party leaders criticized him. For example, he was writing a novel based on one of the Communist member’s trial experience and was shut down. When Native Son was published in 1940, they said that he did not paint the protagonist “heroic” enough, or the Communist Party “rosy” enough. Wright did not understand what was wrong with the way he wrote (Jerry Jazz Musician). Wright said,

[...] I wanted to reveal the vast physical and spiritual ravages of Negro life, the profundity latent in these rejected people, the dramas as old as man and the sun and the mountains and the seas that were transpiring in the poverty of black America[?] What was the danger in showing the kinship between the sufferings of the Negro and the sufferings of other people? (Wright 336)

He officially resigned in 1944 because of all of the Communist Party’s “rules of conduct” and restrictions. He just wanted to tell the truth in a way that would get people’s attention. He did not want to create the protagonist of Native Son heroic; he did not want readers to cry at the sadness of their situation; he wanted them to look at it in the face and change. Of the Communist Party he also said:

They were more fearful of my ideas than they would have been had I held a gun on them; they could have taken the gun away from me and shot me with it, but they did not know what to do with ideas. (Wright 339)

Wright found that society was scared of people who pursued knowledge. He wanted to show change would be a good thing and benefit all. He wanted to show that if society did not change, America was going to be ruined.

In the end of this entire struggle Wright said,

Well, what had I got out of living in the city? What had I got out of living in the South? What had I got out of living in America? I paced the floor, knowing that all I possessed were words and dim knowledge that my country had shown me no examples of how to live a human life. All my life I had been full of a hunger for a new way to live… (Wright 383)

All of his life, in the North and in the South, Wright realized that he was only left with what society gave him. This is why he wrote novels and short stories. He wanted to fill that hunger within himself, as well as the gap inside of all humans.

Truly, Richard Wright came a long way. He faced many struggles, fighting, and did not let go of what was inside. Through experiences, he was taught to be tough. He did not back down, and the plan society had for him did not work. He started a change, and although he is no longer alive, some still hear the “echo of his words fighting, marching.” (Wright 384) I do. Every time I question or doubt myself, I remember the courage that he had to stand. I remember that he never gave up, despite what others had planned for him. That is what makes a great writer, to be studied for all of time. So, what exactly was at the core of a black boy? Anger and protest were. He knew what it was like to be oppressed, stifled and trapped, and he did not want anyone else to feel or live that way. It kept him moving forward; it inspired him to be one of the first to say, “No more.”

Works Cited

Jerry Jazz Musician. (Personal Communication with Hazel Rowley, May 28, 2002)

Wright, Richard. Black Boy: American Hunger: A Record of Childhood and Youth. 1993. New York: HarperCollins.

Mark Twain, the renowned author of short stories, like “The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg,” and novels, like Tom Sawyer, wrote The Adventures Huckleberry Finn. Twain used harsh, yet vibrant language to portray southern life–not only southern life, but human nature. In this case, human nature is that need to search and find a revelation. Truly, life is a journey, whether it is on a yellow brick road, or on a raft down the Mississippi River; everyone seems to be searching for freedom. The journey down the Mississippi River with Jim symbolizes the journey of a boy becoming a man. Readers are able to see the progression of a boy to a man, from darkness to the turning on of a light bulb. In this way, Twain tells society to turn on theirs. Over and over, Twain says to respect each other no matter what color the other person is or where they come from because all human beings are on a journey or path. Of course, everyone will stumble and fall. There will be some problems down the road (or in this case the river), but the most important thing is that people learn from mistakes, and begin to make the right choices; this is where the battle between right and wrong comes into play. However, everyone must take what is given by life and make a choice.

As Huckleberry Finn learns, everyone feels pain, and everyone has some type of wisdom to offer, even if he/she is from a different background. Readers can see this in a lesson that Twain presents over and over. In this case, Mary Jane, someone Huckleberry meets on his journey, scolds her sister for treating Huckleberry (who is supposed to be a foreign guest from England with the Duke and the King) mean.

If you was in his place it would make you feel ashamed; and so you oughtn’t to say a thing to another person that will make them feel ashamed[…]the thing is for you to treat him kind, and not to be saying things to make him remember he ain’t in his own country and amongst his own folks. (174)

This is a familiar lesson for Huckleberry because he learns the same one when he tries to trick Jim on the raft. Jim says,

En when I wake up en fine you back ig’in, all safe en soun’, de tears come, en I could ’a’ got down on my knees en kiss yo’ foot, I’s so thankful. En all you waz thinkin’ ‘bout wuz how you could make a fool uv ole Jim wid a lie. Dat truck dah is trash; en trash is what people is dat puts dirt on dah head er dey dren’s en makes ‘em ashamed.(85)

Afterwards, Huckleberry Finn thinks to himself,

It made me feel so mean I could almost kissed his foot to get him to take it back.It was fifteen minutes before I could work myself up to humble myself to a nigger; but I done it, and I warn’t even sorry for it afterward, neither. I didn’t do him no more mean tricks, and I wouldn’t done that one if I’d ’a’ knowed it would make him feel that way.(85)

Mark Twain is saying through these characters, treat everyone with respect, no matter where they come from. Don’t make them feel inferior because, truly, they are not. Everyone is the same, and everyone bleeds red, and feels pain and shame. No matter what color we are, we are all on the same raft.

It takes a while for Huckleberry to learn this on his journey, and in the end, Huckleberry Finn truly has a decision to make. He is stuck in between “right” and “wrong.” He is at a fork in the road. One sign says “This Way Manhood,” and the other, “Ignorance.” Huckleberry Finn has to make a grownup decision. Should he knowingly run away with a “nigger” or should he bring Jim to his “rightful owner?” The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is a story of a journey into manhood. In this case, manhood is that point when a boy chooses for himself what is “right,” and “wrong.” It is when a boy stops being selfish, and steps into the stage of doing what is right because it is right, despite the consequences or how he was raised.

Racism and slavery are parts of Huckleberry Finn’s life. Huckleberry Finn is born in to a world where slavery is accepted. He is raised by an abusive father (whenever he is in town). When his father is not around, he is raised mostly by con-men and learns the lessons of life with thieves. It is not until Huckleberry Finn fakes his death and escapes with the runaway “nigger” (which ironically means thief [Middleton, Phil; Pilgrim, David]) that Huckleberry finds a true friend and learns true lessons. Everyday he is told that black people are different, ignorant, and are to be treated like animals or property. He is told this directly and indirectly. Readers can see this when he says, “Well, he was right; he was most always right; he had an uncommon level head for a nigger” (76).

Because of all of the racism that is imbedded into Huckleberry Finn’s mind, he begins to feel guilty about running away with Jim. Huckleberry Finn has a conflict because he was taught that freeing slaves is wrong. He battles with himself because something Jim says bothers him:

He was saying how the first thing he would do when he got to a free state he would go to saving up his money and never spend a single cent, and when he got enough he would buy his wife, which was owned on a farm close to where Miss Watson lived; and then they would both work to buy their two children, and if their master wouldn’t sell them, they’d get an Ab’litionist to go and steal them.

[…]Just see what a difference it made him in a minute he judged he was about to be free. It was according to the old saying, ‘Give a nigger an inch and he’ll take an ell.’ Thinks I, this is what comes out of my not thinking. Here was this nigger, which I had good as helped to run away, coming right out of flat-footed and say he would steal his children–children that belonged to a man I didn’t even know; a man that hadn’t never done me no harm. (88)

Huckleberry Finn is used to treating black people like animals or property. He uses words like “which,” instead of “who,” to describe Jim’s wife. He also talks about Jim’s family as if they are a piece of property, like farm land to be bought and sold. Of course, this is how he was raised; however, as Huckleberry Finn continues on his journey of manhood down the Mississippi River, he begins to see that Jim is a person, not an animal. “[…] he cared just as much for his people as white folks does their’n” (155). No matter how hard he tries, he knows Jim is a good person, and they have created a bond because they have similar struggles. Huckleberry Finn even goes as far as to try to pray, in order to allow himself to give up Jim:

I was trying to make my mouth say I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write to that nigger’s owner and tell where he was; but deep down in me I knowed it was a lie’ and He knowed it. You can’t pray a lie—I found that out. (213)

Huckleberry Finn has to make a decision. “And then says to myself: ‘All right, then, I’ll go to hell’—and tore it up” (214).

In the end, Huckleberry decides to make the “wrong” decision. He is ready to accept the consequences of helping Jim and live a life of a “hardened criminal.” He is willing to be a part of such “unclean” and “immoral” matters. This is the point where he becomes a man. Huckleberry Finn decides to “go to Hell” (214) because “you can’t pray a lie” (213). He knows Jim deserves to be free, despite his upbringing and what he is told is “right.” He wants to free Jim because he is just as human as anyone else, if not more. This realization is his rite of passage to manhood.

There is no doubt that Mark Twain wrote The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to make a statement about slavery, racism and respect for every single person. Even though he claims not to mean to, using Huckleberry Finn’s crazy adventures, Twain shows the world life, and then says, Change it. Tom Sawyer, who many compare to Mark Twain, says one of the best lines in the book: “They hain’t no right to shut him up! Shove!—and don’t you lose a minute. Turn him loose. He ain’t no slave; he’s as free as any cretur that walks this earth!” (288-289). Indeed, we all are free. Mark Twain wanted to show this. He does so, using a book about adventure and peril, while still being able to add some humor. Mark Twain presents readers with a young boy’s journey to find truth, leading readers to find it within themselves. He presents readers with human flaws, and then, turns them into literary satires by using characters like Tom Sawyer, with his crazy ideas, the King and the Duke, with their cons, Jim, with his many insights and taboos, and of course, Huckleberry Finn. I enjoy the way Mark Twain adds some comic relief and never loses that sense of boyhood, even when discussing a serious matter; however, readers must feel some sympathy for Jim, having to put up with spiders, rats and snakes.

Works Cited

Middleton, Phil; Pilgrim, David. “Nigger (the word) a brief history.” African American

Registry. 2001. Ferris State University. 20 February 2007. <http://www.aa registry.com/african_american_history/2420/Nigger_the_word_a_brief_history>

Twain, Mark. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. 2003. New York: Bantam Books.

Indeed, America has changed and is continuing to change. Admittedly, some things have stayed the same, but the way Americans walk, talk, behave, dress and think has changed. Compared to a time when average Americans were near perfect and set in ways, America has definitely stepped out of the box. Americans have become more open-minded in their ideas and beliefs. Though Americans in the twenty first century are no where near perfect, people are free to live as they choose. There is also a negative side to this. More and more young people are living for themselves and in the process, losing respect for others.

Of course not all change has been bad. Americans have progressed greatly. Those from the 1950’s could have never dreamed of all of the technology that exists, including the internet and the satellite television, that Americans are so used to today. Everything is moving at such a high speed, so unfortunately Americans are becoming less patient and lazier. Even I have been guilty of not watching television because of the absence of the remote, or vacuuming the same spot until one piece of paper gets sucked up, instead of simply picking it up.

Even education is increasing in speed. There was a time when division and multiplication was sufficient. However, the average elementary schooler is beginning to learn algebra. In addition, some states are even expecting fourth graders to know how to write essays. These are all great things, but what happened to the happiness and ease that came with childhood? The average twenty first century American is growing up too fast. Sometimes change is good, but some change needs to slow down.

Of course this does not speak for every twenty first century American, but one thing is for sure, the twenty first century is a time of change. As a result, the average twenty first century American is unique, but changing. Like a flower needs time to bloom, so do humans. Hopefully, the twenty first century American will learn to take the time to properly bloom.

The modern period brought along a new style of poetry. I like that the poems are more straightforward and a bit more clear, though did not lose the mystery or power poetry holds. Some of the poems in the modern period (like those that talked about flowers or sycamore trees) seemed to have no main point or purpose, but to experiment with words and different lyrical methods; however, most of the other poems were relative and easy to understand. Three poems that I found particularly interesting were, “The Road Not Taken,” by Robert Frost, “Goodbye Christ,” by Langston Hughes and “Incident,” by Countee Cullen.

“The Road Not Taken,” by Robert Frost has a timeless theme. This theme is seen over and over and is part of human nature. Life is being compared to a journey or a road, and the decisions made in life are different paths. Every single person in life has a decision to make because we can’t “travel both.” In this case, we must decide whether or not to be responsible or reckless in the decisions that we make. Of course, when I say responsible, I mean living as if life is what is made of it, opposed to recklessness, which is doing things that will be regretted later and extremely ruin lives. In the past, I was made fun of by those I grew up with, even though they did not mean it that way. I was called a “goody-goody,” as if it was a bad thing because I liked to read and learn. I was and still am quiet and polite. However, after a while, I stopped caring what others thought and lived my life because I knew they just wished that they had what I had, and I had no reason to want to do what they did (I do not mean this in a snobby way). I’d rather be a goody-two shoes getting my education than someone who drops out of school, can’t hold a job, abuses alcohol, smokes cigarettes and pot, and sleeps with other people who don’t care about me (Yes, people I know do these stupid things.). It is funny how, now, those who said those things about me tell me all of the time, don’t have sex, stay in school, don’t do this, and don’t do that. My reply is, I know already because I see what mistakes others have made and decide not to make (most all) of them. Of course, it is okay to make mistakes, but if they can be avoided, they will be.

I was astonished after reading “Goodbye Christ.” Langston Hughes must have been a brave man. I tried to look at it as a whole, rather than line by line. I don’t necessarily think he was saying that he didn’t believe in God, but rather he was not going to accept “religion” anymore. In my world, there is a big difference between having a religion and having a relationship with God, and a relationship does not mean going to church every Sunday. Church has become such a money maker, and a social and political tool. Wars have been declared over land in the name of God, and lies have been told for self-fulfillment. It all comes down to greed. Mr. Din always used to quote Puff Daddy: “It’s all about the benjamins baby!” Of course, Langston Hughes wasn’t the only one to see this and be disgusted by it. Huckleberry Finn encountered this situation when the Duke and the King tricked those town people, and even now I refuse to watch BET on Sundays when certain preachers come on because they always preach about tithing, not about living.

“The Incident,” by Countee Cullen was also a shocking poem. Firstly, he was truly a great writer. Seamlessly, he draws readers into a story. I was shocked when suddenly I was thrown into an unfortunate experience of racism. He is saying through this poem, “I will never forget.” I am sure everyone has experienced a form of racism, black as well as white, and I remember my first. Of course, it wasn’t said directly at me, but it was shocking to hear. I had always heard about racism, but never heard the n-word used in a derogatory way. Well, actually, I had, but this was the first time I heard someone so young use it and really believe it. I was used to living in such a diverse northern state, that when I moved to a town not as diverse in the south, Brooksville, I thought the world had changed, and I would not have to hear someone younger than me use terms like that. I was wrong. The boy, about fifteen, was mad, and as he walked to the bus with his friend, I heard such hateful, ignorant words come out. Basically he said: “I wish they would kill them all. Niggers are so stupid…” He friend replied, “Man, you shouldn’t say that.” The boy then said, “I don’t care if they hear me, they can all go to hell.” That just made me so sad, and although he wasn’t saying it directly to me, it hurt because it was hate. Boy, did I wish someone would slap him upside his head.

Maybe this world hasn’t changed so much. Yes, we have our new gadgets and things, but it is true, the nature of man stays the same. Life will always be a journey. Some people are innocent, sweet, and make good choices, while others will always try to bring others, as well as themselves down. What seems to be true is that though there is good in the world, there are hateful, greedy, and selfish people. So, like Langston Hughes, I must too bid the Christ that the world painted and formed into “religion,” goodbye.

“Women: Writing What They Know: Frustration”

Poetry was best defined by Louis Untermeyer who said that “poetry is the art of expressing the inexpressible in the terms of the unimaginable.” For example, when my friends don’t know how to express what they feel, they usually come to me for guidance because I write poetry, and I am good with words (when writing them). Feelings are truly hard to express. How does one express a deep fear, loneliness or love with simple words? It is even a greater feat to express them in ways that may be simple, but to others seems so untouchable.

I loved how Alice Dunbar-Nelson wrote I Sit and Sew. Readers are able to feel how purposeless she felt because she couldn’t get out and make a difference. She felt like she was wasting her time. Everyone at one point in time has felt that way so are able to identify with it, especially women. This poem was written in a time when women were expected to do things and live a certain way, which undoubtedly got tiring, and boring. In A Double Standard, written by Frances Harper, readers can also see the anger and hopelessness the writer felt because of the standards that men had and some still have for women. Of course, it was for far more serious issues like voting (instead of football) in the 1930’s, but just the same, women deserve equal rights. These poems express some of the frustration that women dealt with, as far as staying home and not always being able to do what they want because of the social caste, their emotions, their hearts and/or their morals, while some men can do what they want without thinking twice about it.

I also enjoyed the poem Armistice, written by Sophie Jewett. It speaks of being caught in the moment with love. Basically, she is saying that when she is with the one she loves, she does not feel scared of tomorrow or death. It is just like she is stuck in time, and getting away from everything else that is going on. Also, when she writes, “we pray the fickle flag of truce; still floating deceitfully and fair; our eyes must love sweet abuse;” it reminds me of that phrase “ignorance is bliss,” ignorance being lack of awareness, or not paying attention.

All in all, the poems from the women of the 19^th century were great. They conveyed emotion, and feeling in a coherent and lyrical manner, which is hard to do when writing. Of course many of the issues that they faced are similar to what women are facing today. Many women can relate to feeling tired and frustrated because of standards, and I am sure men can identify with this also.

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