mY tHOUGHTs....

mother vs daughter

2009-04-29T23:16:00.001-07:00

Mother daughter relationships should be one of the seven wonders of the world. They are painful yet intense and loving. They are forever evolving and changing yet stay the same. It is a strange phenomenon…

As a child my mother worked sporadically, but mostly she was simply a homemaker. She cooked, cleaned, and raised us. I expected her to be my homeroom mother, to be in the PTO, and make cupcakes for all my class events. My mother looked at this from a different point of view. She had four children and refused to do everything for all of us. Since we would be jealous if she did something for one of us and not for the other, she decided to do nothing for any of us. Beyond being our pre-K through first grade room mothers, my mother did not participate in our school activities.

This was really difficult for me. My older sister had seven years on me and was basically out of school before I have definite memories. My older brother (my senior by only 14 months) refused to do well in school and always required special attention from my parents to make sure he did not fail and have to repeat a grade. It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart and intelligent, he just never "applied himself." My little sister was smart, but she struggled in school. In her early grades she had a problem with reading- she hated it and never tried. Because of this she was below her reading level. My mom worked with her every evening on her homework. Later on we found that math did not make sense to her. And as she entered high school, she had problems with the natural sciences as well. Because my siblings commanded so much of my mother's time during homework sessions, I often felt ignored and torn. I enjoyed the attention from my teachers for being the highest scoring student in the classroom, but felt neglected at home because I easily made straight A's.

I remember the end of each six weeks bringing hatred to my heart. I would bring home my perfect report card in triumph. Each time my mother would glance at it, sign it, and close it. Next, she would lecture my brother and sister for thirty minutes about their B's, C's, and D's. If my brother or sister did manage to make an A, there would be ice cream and celebration.

Awards ceremonies were another difficult time for me. I always received the top awards: perfect attendance, citizenship, good grades, and even the coveted "Special Student Award" given out at the end of the eighth grade year to one female and one male student. I would always search the bleachers for my mother, but she was never there. My peers' mothers would be there, cheering on my fellow students, but my mothers face never appeared. I would bring the awards home to a obligatory nod and then they disappeared into the box my mother kept all my achievements in. Unlike Brave Orchid's "glass case" that displayed her children's achievements (WW, 128). Mine were kept in a plastic box in the storage room. Never to be seen by anyone. Much like Kingston, I often contemplated "not making A's" just to spite my parents (WW, 99). I wondered if they would even notice if I quit bringing home perfect report cards and numerous awards. They never seemed to care, so why should I. They took it for granted that I was always going to make perfect grades, somewhere in my senior year I simply quit doing so. I wanted to see how they would react and my teachers praise alone was no longer enough. I had worked my whole life for a "good job."

My mother did notice eventually. She explained that she had never made a big deal of it because she did not think I needed the praise. She felt that my teachers pampered me too much. She wanted me to be strong and not expect things to be handed to me. She never thought that I had to work hard for my grades like my siblings. Because it was easy for me, I did not deserve the praise. This was a hard pill to swallow. I definitely did not agree. Just because I have always done well did not mean I didn’t work my butt off for it. While my brother and sister were out with friends I was at Starbuck or the library studying. I worked a full time job and still managed to keep up and score high grades. After a long discussion my mother and I finally were able to see eye-to-eye. She apologized for making me feel like she did not care, but would not apologize for not giving me excessive praise. She felt that I was a stronger person because of it. As I have mentioned before, I cannot change my mother so I simply have to accept her point of view and enjoy the praise she does give me. Although I experienced some pain and feelings of neglect, I know that everything she does is because she loves me and wants what is best for me. Thus I can survive anything that comes my way. She will always be in my corner.

Modern Day Woman Warrior

2009-04-27T21:55:00.001-07:00

In the neighborhood where I spent most of my childhood, there were few other female kids. Most of my playmates where guys, the few girls in my neighborhood where whinny and generally drove me crazy. I spent most of my childhood wrestling with boys on the trampoline, playing basketball, football, or kickball. I did not play with Barbies or baby dolls, preferring instead to spend time on my pogo stick, bike, or outside in the dirt. I was constantly referred to as "the girl" by all the boy kids I played with. If I won a wrestling match or basketball game (which was not unusual!), the boy(s) I beat were ribbed that they had been "beat by the girl." The next time we competed they were determine to beat me to re-prove their manhood. Much like Lydia mentioned, I was considered the weaker sex. To be beat by me, a female, was the ultimate humiliation. I never really considered the distinction as a child, I simply accepted that boys expected me to be an easy target. Unfortunately for them, I did not meet their expectations; whether it was a fist-fight or a friendly game of knock-out, I was in for the win.

Me, my bike, and my siblings

This competitive nature stayed with me as I started school. I was determine to be the best I could be, not because I wanted to pad a resume- I never feared that I would not get into my top choice schools- but because I wanted to push myself to the limit and see where the breaking point was. While reading the article by Sara Rimer, "Girls Need to be Perfect," I felt that it was somewhat ridiculous and superficial. The students featured in the story were complaining that they were taking two to five AP courses and could not keep up with their studies and extracurricular. They obviously live in an upper class neighborhood, meaning their parents have plenty of money. They wear designer clothing, drive nice cars, and probably have most things they wanted given to them.

The students I went to school with took six to seven IB courses and then tested in the AP tests as well. They put on three to five full sized drama productions (and won State

UIL every year), played in the marching band, met at six am to run cross-country, and stayed after school to tutor low performing students, train for academic decathlons, or other academic UIL competitions. Some of us even held down full time jobs. Our parents were not filthy rich, we did not wear designer clothes (or whine that we didn't have them). We worked hard and enjoyed our classes and our extracurricular because we wanted to do them, not because we were "marketing ourselves to colleges" ("Girls Need to be Perfect"). We had fun and enjoyed school. There were times when we all stressed over college applications or exams, but we were not obsessive and the common drive to succeed (in the lowest income school district in Texas and show the world that we were not all losers) brought us together.

This drive to do well and succeed can be seen in Maxine Hong Kingston's Woman Warrior. The woman's traditional role in the family is often disregarded. Although the family would often not survive without a mother, she is not respected as much as the man. Kingston gives an example of this in the first section of her book. The treatment of the "no-name woman," the main character's aunt, was much harsher than the treatment of the man who impregnated her (WW, 5). Because of the disregard that the women had suffered through, they came to the realization that they must become something more than a "wife or slave" to gain respect (WW, 19). That the women tie motherhood and wifedom to slavery is not a mistake, these traditional roles hold no freedom for them. The stories that she is told about Fa Mu Lan are experienced in first person. Her mother teaches her the lessons of strength and freedom through the fabled warrior. It is the only way she knows to raise and protect her child against the process of growing up and facing the hardships of life. She expects her daughter to do greater things than she herself was able to do, she brought her to America to give her the opportunities that she herself never had. It is imperative that her daughter succeed and do well- she wants her to become a modern day warrior, a "heroine, swordswoman" (WW, 19).

Kill Bill is an excellent example of our modern day woman warrior.

Whether in literature or in real life, women feel the need to "catch-up" with men. If you look around, all the people throughout history that we consider to be great thinkers, warriors, or leaders were men. How many women could have been remembered as well if they had simply been given the chance. Maybe Einstein's sister was also a genius, or Newton's daughter the next great alchemist. We will never know. Centuries of repression leave us with our own type of stories and our own drive to succeed. One day, when our daughter's daughters look back on history, we will tell them the true accounts to women heroics instead of bedtime fables.

Diversity vs. Alienation

2009-04-22T21:52:00.000-07:00

I often feel that I got the raw end of what should have been a great deal. I was born to white, upper-middle class parents who owned their own franchise of a shipping company, drove a brand new car, lived in an up and coming town, and had a spacious house. I had blonde curly hair, blue eyes, and was a happy child. But at age two, all that changed. The parent business for my father's franchise went bankrupt and sold out to FedEx. My parents lost the business, the brand new car, and their home. They moved in with my father's parents in a small farming community. Eventually they moved into government housing. My twenty-one year old mother was left at home alone pregnant with her third child while my father was forced to drive cross-country to make ends meet.

Me: my kindergarten school photo

Unfortunately, I do not remember the good ol' days when my family had plenty of money and upper-middle class ranking- though I never really realized we were poor until I went to school. I always woke up with mixed emotions of the first day of a new school year. I was always excited to go back to school and learn and meet my new teacher. But I had never had many friends, so I wasn’t excited to see the other kids. In fact, I disliked going to school and seeing everyone else's shiny new brand-name school supplies and their new school clothes and lunch boxes. My clothes were made by my two grandmothers, my sandwich in a brown paper bag, my shoes were hand-me-downs from an older cousin, and my school supplies the off-brand that was bought at the local dollar store.

Many minority students feel that racial tension or class distinction is directed at them because of the color of their skin or their accent when speaking English. White students are often lumped into the same mish-mash pile of "privileged" students who have tons of friends and never get made fun of or feel degraded by others. As Toni Morrison states in The Bluest Eye, that the fair skin and blue eyes of baby dolls and little white girls brought out a certain "possessive gentleness" in adults and "enchanted" fellow classmates (BE: 23,62). I, however, never felt privy to this type of differential treatment. Having the whitest, most un-tannable skin or brightest blue eyes in my school did not make me a popular student. I was a poor outsider. A smart poor outsider that was spoken to when someone needed help with an algebra problem or topic for a paper, but still an outsider. Between the grades of four and eleven I was not invited to any parties or gatherings with fellow students. I think I excelled in the classroom because I had no other option, no other distractions, nothing else to do with my time. When papers were handed out in class I often felt like Miguel Ramirez in "The Unknown Want" as he described making a "100/100" on an assignment the rest of the class had bombed (X:838). That certain mixture of pride of accomplishment, yet anxiety of ridicule from your peers was a real part of my public school education. Being told I was intelligent- more so than most of my peers- did nothing to boost my self-esteem. I still felt poor, under-dressed, and ugly when compared to my fellow classmates. Being told I was superior to them only helped to alienate me further. The accolades that were met to cheer me up only made me feel more different. The many awards given to me at various school ceremonies only made me sad when my parents never appeared in the audience.

I further identified with the stories presented by other students when they spoke about the chasm between the lifestyle and customs of their parents and themselves. Much like Norma Andrade in "On Being Canela," I often felt embarrassed at my mother's occupation, or lack thereof. My mother came from old-school traditions. She believes that my father should provide for her and she should spend his money. That is fine when you have money to spend, but often my father did not. My mother only worked when it was absolutely necessary for her to do so, and then it was odd jobs that were not high earning: fast food industry, daycares, etc. I was often embarrassed when a classmate would tell me they had seen my mother at work. I would claim, like Andrade, that they must have been mistaken because "my mother was a housewife" and did not have to work, our father supported us (X: 848). My mother's refusal to work and help support our family is still an issue that we disagree violently over. But I understand that she was raised in a different time period and family setting than I was. The events in my life that make me determine to work and support myself are different from those that she experienced. I have come to realize that if my parents are content, who am I to try and change them.

My mother and I: so alike yet so different

Overall, I feel that any student can feel the effects of alienation from their peers despite their ethnicity, skin color, back ground, class, caste, intelligence level, or social standing. To say that a blue-eyed, blonde haired, quintessential American child has it easier simply because they are the quintessential American child is absurd. I like fashion, to say the Hispanic child has it more difficult because they are Hispanic is equally absurd. Everyone has felt judged or discriminated against for some aspect of who they are at a point in their life. Whether it is for their skin color, their good grades, or their raggedy clothes doesn’t matter. We are all human. We have all been hurt by it, and we should all learn the lessons experience has to offer and not reciprocate that judgment to others in our lives. How is it that the diversity that sets each person apart and makes them unique often makes them feel alienated from the greater blur of people around them? It is time we accepted each other as we are.

Judging Others

2009-04-20T20:05:00.000-07:00

We all judges other people. You may stop when you realize it, or you may continue and indulge the human side of you that wants to be better than those around you. Although we have been fighting this instinct for years- from civil rights to gay rights- it is still a huge part of human nature.

In Toni Morrison's novel, The Bluest Eye, racism- or judging another based on appearance- is dealt with heavily. She presents a story in which two little black girls react differently to the preference given to blonde haired, blue eyed girls over dark skinned, dark eyed girls. In the proposed situation both girls are jealous, but one reacts by wanting to have blue eyes like Shirley Temple the other decides she hates Shirley Temple and destroys the perfect baby dolls she is given. Both girls feel the pressure to fit into the cookie cutter image of what is "beautiful." And, although their reactions are drastically different, they both succumb to the pressure.

In the novel, Pecola, the girl who wanted the blue eyes, was portrayed in the meanest of fashions: her family was poor, she was abused, and she was described as being ugly. As Morrison later wrote, she wanted her readers "interrogating themselves" as to why she was "smashing" the character Pecola. Instead, she feels that the readers ended up "pitying" her (BE 211). Although she was trying to make a case for racism, the story comes across to the reader as a poor black girl that is forced to live though many unfair circumstances and ends up going crazy. As Bump explained in his essay, "Racism and Appearance in The Bluest Eye: a Template for Emotive Criticism," "the success of this novel, and many other attempts to challenge racism, is determined by the nature of and relationships between the emotions that 'touch' and 'move' its readers." Or, that the readers must connect emotionally with the story being portrayed, but whether that emotional connection simply "touches" them or "moves" them into action depends of the level of identification and emotional attachment to the story being presented.

For me, as a reader, if the racism factor had not been pointed out in the classroom, I would not have chosen it as the main focus of the story. Because of my past experiences, I connected with the character Pecola on a different level. The emotions that were portrayed when she felt poor and out of place when compared to her peers was something I dealt with throughout my entire elementary schooling. Also, the abuse and her reaction to the questions from those around her reminded me of my own young self. Reading about a character that resembled my childhood experiences so closely made it difficult to focus on the bigger purpose of the novel. However, upon taking a closer look, I realized that the racial tension is laced throughout. From the Shirley Temple cup to the ripping apart of baby dolls to the degrading of romantic love as portrayed by beautiful Hollywood Actors to the crazy little girl who truly thinks she has the "bluest eyes of all." (BE 202) From the beginning to the end, Morrison portrays the judgment that black girls feel from those around them. Because of their appearance, something they had no choice in and cannot change, they are considered to be less: less beautiful, less pleasant, less acceptable, less everything that little white girls are.

A video portraying Pecola at the end of the book. She thinks she is finally beautiful with beautiful blue eyes. But it shows that in the end, racism and a judgmental attitude only hurt others more than we can imagine.

As I stated in the beginning, we have all judged another based on their appearance before. But, I dare to say, we have all also been judged by someone else. Considering that and remembering those emotions, it is almost not impossible to not only be "touched" by Toni Morrison's novel, but to also be "moved" to action. Next time you start to judge someone else, think first.

"Thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou are that judgest: for wherin thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things." (The Bible, KJV, Romans 2:1)

Diversity: TX State History Museum

2009-04-09T01:43:00.000-07:00

The Bob Bullock Texas State History Museum gives a history of Texas from before European Explores all the way through the Oil Boom and WWII. The diverse cultures and countries that have occupied the land we all call home are amazing. The diversity stretches from cultures and race to species and lifestyles.

Native Americans were the first to call Texas home. They lived here for almost 11,000 years before European Explores "found" the "new land." The clash of cultures when the Europeans arrived was inevitable. The Europeans looked upon the Native Americans as barbaric, uncivilized cultures. In reality, the Native American Tribes were quite advanced and had complex societies. Take, for example, the Karankawa tribe who lived along the gulf coast. They "had an intimate knowledge of their environment and tuned their lives to the availability of fish, game, and wild plants." Colonization of European Explores in the Texas Native Americans' lands led to clashes. The illnesses that the Europeans brought with them to the "new land" were interpreted differently by both cultures. The people had different religions and upbringing and it was only natural that unrest, mistrust, and eventually war was to ensue from their unaddressed differences.

Eventually different European countries were clashing over who had the right to claim Tejas. The Spaniards were trying to extend their influence up from the south and their foothold in present day Mexico. The French was trying to spread down from the north. Both sides spread their influence differently. French trappers and traders that had ties with the tribes warned of the Spaniards in the south. The Spaniards won the colonization efforts through their missions. "Colonization begins on faith." Spain sent settlers, missionaries and soldiers to protect them. The government relied on a system of missions and presidios or forts to secure its foothold in Tejas. Instead of accepting the natives as they were and respecting them and their customs. The Spanish government sent the missionaries to convert the "barbarians" into law abiding Catholic subjects. If the natives converted to Catholicism they were able to reap the benefits of their local mission. The diversity of the area was destroyed. You either converted and were accepted or did not and were rejected.
These missions were the first form of settlers in the west. Mules and oxen were used to transport goods as settlers moved up from Mexico-- they were the only animals that could endure the hunger, drought, and hardships of the trip. As one settler said, "Texas was a heaven to men and dogs, but a hell for women, oxen, and mules." As Texas became an open frontier and many began the "move west," the diversity in Texas began to open up again. When Texas became independent in 1836, Protestant services and revivals became common occurrences. Settlers now had a choice of religions and the Catholic stronghold of the region began to dissolve. The landscape changed from central missions to spread out farms. Loneliness and isolation were a fact of life. When a social event was planned, everyone attended. The different customs and traditions of the people that moved west were meshed together to create a community. Diversity had to be embraced. You were not allowed to choose your neighbor, but you had to accept them for the simple need of companionship. Many moved west for the opportunity that it presented. The reality was that it took a lot of hard work. The West equalized people. It didn’t matter what kind of education you had or how much money you brought. Everyone lived in a crude house and worked from sun up to sun down to put food in their bellies.

As time moved on Texas became more civilized and settled. Towns popped up and the big ranches and cattle became the highest earning industry-- making the Fort Worth Stock yards world famous. The cowboys that worked the ranches came from all over the United States and even beyond. The routes they used to drive their cattle were originally the Native American trails that the Spanish used as trade routes between their missions. Today, we build interstates across these ancient paths. When I look at Texas, all I see is diversity. Some people may think that everyone in Texas rides horses and were boots and cowboy hats. While we have probably all done these things at least once in our lives, it is important to realize the diversity that created this great state. To understand that every step you take has been taken by many generations of Texans before you. Hook 'em!

Personality Profile: ENJF

2009-04-08T23:37:00.000-07:00

I took the Myers-Briggs Personality Test and my psychological profile was: extroverted, intuitive, feeling, judging, with an Idealist Teacher as the final classification. While I feel that a person can never truly be put into a four square box and every quirk explained away by one simple test, I do think that such tests can give insight into the general personality of a person. These personality tests also come with a learning and writing style that I feel was mostly spot on.

Extroverts:

My learning style states that: I talk in class-volunteer, think out loud, prefer active exercises- just lecture can bore, Prefer brainstorming, oral work, have a short attention span, am able to write without needing prior planning, prefer group activities. I agree with most of these definitions. I usually volunteer in class and prefer discussion based classes to lectures. I find that if my mind is not being stimulated I usually fall asleep, this includes during lectures. I definitely have a short attention span. I cannot work on anything for a long period of time without taking stretch breaks or jamming out to a good song for a few minutes. I usually do not plan out my writing; I simply jump into it and asses the damage afterwards. But I do not usually like group activities. It seems that in a group project one or two people do all the work and everyone else sits back. If I could be in a group where everyone pulled their weight I would enjoy it. I like the fun and ideas that come from collaborating with peers and bouncing ideas off of one another.

My writing style states that: I write from lived experiences, talk out ideas before writing, leap into writing- outline later, and take breaks for outer stimulation. This is mostly correct. I often draw on my experiences to illustrate my opinion or point of view on a topic. I often write, then read back through and create an outline from what I wrote to help with organization and logical order of my thoughts. And as stated above I do take breaks for stimulation, but only after I get my thoughts on paper. Because I often write when a burst of inspiration hits me, I will sit and write and get all my ideas down before taking a break.

Intuitive:

My learning style states that: I like to look beneath the surface to find hidden meaning, language oriented, out -think selves- read between the lines, do better on essay questions, solve new problems, learn new skills, hate busy work- like problem solving, why oriented- what does it mean?, future oriented- what new idea can I come up with?, talk about ideas, habit of digressing- and that does not bother, like open-ended assignments, to interpret topics in my own way, want to explore subtleties and complexities, find it hard to work without being inspired- work with bursts of energy, can leave too many details out of lecture notes. There are two points in this that I agree with the strongest. I HATE busy work. I have a real problem with feeling like I am wasting my time. If I do not feel like whatever I am doing is beneficial to me then I resent every second of doing it. Also, I find it extremely difficult to work without being inspired. I often miss deadlines because I think over a topic until something within it inspires me, then I write.

My writing style states that I: suggest hypotheses, ideas, and implications, I create original writing patterns, conceptualize topics in different ways, explore subtleties and complexities. I'm not to sure if I do these thing or not. I know that I do not do them consciously…

Feeling:

My learning style states that: I would rather talk about values and my feelings-give human examples, I like subjective assignments- aware of audience, I am relationship oriented- like study groups, I need praise, approval, and support, I need harmony- take criticism personally, I am not so rule oriented, I like to be close to teachers- view as friend, I am more supportive than critical, and I am motivated by others. This is all pretty much true. I feel that even though I may take criticism personally in the moment, I am able to step back and take it in objectively as well. However, this is a trait I have had to learn the hard way. I don’t mind talking about my values, but my feelings are harder to put out on the table.

My writing style: I communicate personal values, enliven content with human examples, attend to the audience's reaction, and guide writing decisions by sense of flow. I do, once again, bring in a lot of examples from my past (aka: human examples). I guide my writing my sense of flow. After I write, I outline and decide what flows best- that’s the order I put the paper in, elaborating as needed.

Judging:

My learning style states that: I prefer a plan, schedule is important- want a syllabus that is all explained clearly and spelled out, I don’t like surprises- want to know exactly how grades will be determined, Need fro closure may make me finish too soon- without enough evidence or research, prefer to work on one subject at a time, and I get pleasure from finishing- persevere until I'm done. I love spontaneity and surprises in my personal life, but when it comes to my grades, expectations in the classroom, and at work, I do not like them at all. The expectations of my boss and/or professor should be laid out plainly in the beginning. If I meet the expectations, great. If not, then it will be my own fault. I always want a syllabus so I can plan out my map for the course. Once again, I want to know what will be expected. I love finishing a project or assignment. There is a definite sense of accomplishment upon completing something.

My writing style: I narrow options to decide on a topic, I follow a set schedule to completion, I work mainly on one project at a time, and I work from present conclusions. I definitely narrow the conclusions. As stated before, I will think over several different options for quite a while before I settle on any one topic. With my school work I like to complete one project at a time, whereas at my job I usually juggle three to five ongoing projects at once.

Overall, I feel like my learning and writing styles are a mixture of all of the above traits, everything stated had at least a kernel of truth in in. I definitely feel that this quiz helped me to understand more about myself than I did before. These are all things I knew on a semi-conscious level, but having them stated out made me asses them and understand how they affect me as a student and a writer.

P4

2009-03-25T20:49:00.000-07:00

My freshman year of college has been completely different from what I expected. You could even say that it has been the polar opposite. I expected to be best friends with my roommate. I expected to join organizations where I would meet fun and amazing people. I expected that the people in my classes would be friendly, create study groups, and hang out outside of the classroom. I expected to venture out to Sixth Street surrounded by a group of girlfriends at least once a month. I expected to learn new and exciting things. Overall, I expected to love Austin and UT.

In reality, I have had a miserable freshman year. I have an overwhelming feeling that I am wasting my life. The classes I am taking have overall bored me and seem irrelevant to the life I wish to lead after graduation. The student organization I joined turned out to be more work than some of my classes. The expectations of making tons of friends returned back empty. I have spent most of the year alone in my room. Because I am an extrovert this experience has been painful and deeply depressing. It reminded me of the many lonely years I spent in grade school without a close best friend.

I was always seen as a loner, even by my family, but in reality all I wanted was a big group of friends to hang out with. From first grade on, I was in the gifted and talented program. It placed me in the classroom with most of the well to do children in my school. My homemade clothing, crooked teeth, and long hair made me different—they all wore Limited Too, had braces, and short bobs. I never fit in and was considered a poor outsider by the children I attended first through sixth grade with. Even though my family moved into the middle class ranking, this classification never wore off. As I entered middle and then high school in Mineral Wells, I was never accepted by the popular crowd that made up my pre- AP classes. I considered myself better than mainstream students and their conversations and mannerisms often bored or disgusted me. I remained a loner. When my family moved to Temple, I was determined to start over. And I did. My sophomore and junior years were hard; I had never really had but one or two friends—I did not even know where to start. But by my senior year I had definitely made progress and friends. The only problem was the friends I made had been friends since second grade. Although I was accepted into their group, I was never as close to them as they were with each other.

Taking a year off before coming to college did not help much either. I was separated from all the experiences my friends were having and had little in common with them when they arrived back home during spring and summer breaks. I was working forty to fifty hours a week while they were partying the nights away and sleeping all day. Needless to say, my high school buddies and I grew further and further apart during that year. My co-workers quickly replaced my high school buddies and became my new friends. Soon I was dating Johnny and the need for a close girlfriend did not seem to matter as much for quite a while.

When I arrived at college after my year long break, I was sure that with sixty thousand students on campus I was certain to find someone that I could call my best friend. When that did not happen, when I did not even come close to making real friends—that is when depression set in. What is the point of living life when it must be done alone? Sure I have a boyfriend that loves and adores me. Yes I have a family that will always be there. But they are an hour away and while I am abundantly thankful for them, I wonder if I will I ever find someone of the same female sex that relates to me, to gossip and shop with? I have begun to wonder, and this wondering lead to self-contemplation. Thus I began my search to see and to understand myself for who I truly am not who I want to be. I wanted to find and unify the person within.

Having plenty of alone time has forced this self-contemplation upon me. My seminar class on the autobiographical impulse in female writing opened my eyes to the same impulse within myself. As a professor once told me, “You are a poet. You will feel emotion stronger than the everyday person. Your pain will be ten times the pain of any other, but your happiness will also know no bounds. Until you embrace your emotions you will never know yourself. You will write best when your emotions are at their highest peak.” This is where I my journey begins—with my emotions. When I felt depressed I sunk as far into the depression as I could. When I felt alone I was often surrounded by a street full of people. When I was happiest I was surrounded by the people that I love or lying in the arms of the man I love. I was most content napping outside with my cat in the sun. I was most unhappy when I was alone.

While consciously experiencing these emotions and taking consistent journal entries, I gained a higher awareness of myself than I thought was possible. My senior English professor had told us that the most important thing in life was to “Know Thyself.” I took this advice quite literal then and have continued to expand my knowledge of myself throughout the year. I learned that I am not a fighter, but instead that I often run from things that scare me. I realized that I often take on more than I can handle—telling myself that I can—which leads to feelings of being overwhelmed. I run from these situations, becoming depressed and angry with my lack of ability to cope. I found that I often bottle up emotions inside, allowing them to erupt unexpectedly on an innocent person. On a more positive note, I learned things about myself I liked as well. I realized that I do not mind that my skin does not tan, or that my freckles stand out when I spend time outside. I love my body and except for my teeth cannot think of one thing that I would change. I found that I am an accepting person: I rarely judge people on their appearance or speech. Trust is a virtue that I learned somewhere; I am open with people easily and (maybe naively) expect the best from everyone. I learned that following my own heartbeat and learning more about myself makes me a more confident, self-assured, happy person.

More important than all these things, I have learned to listen to the small voice inside myself. Much like Siddhartha, who searched for the person behind the emotions and senses only to find that the emotions and sense was the real person, I have embraced that person. I learned that external unity stems from internal unity, and internal unity cannot be achieved without listening and learning from yourself. Siddhartha sat by the river for many years and listened as all the voices came together to form the holy “OM.” As I place all the parts of myself together and learn from each individual as well as the whole, the voice within composes who I am, who I have become, and who I will be. I am all these people and none of these people all at the same time. I can genuinely say that this person has been reached without peer pressure or outside influence, but through a year of solitary soul searching. It has been painful at times and joyful at others, but overall it has been worth it. I feel stronger and ready to take on the world. Although my freshman year has been lonely and not at all what I expected, I am truly thankful that I have had a chance to really face myself in the mirror and see who I am and what I am made of. This is me. This is who I am.

Word Count: 1402

Fear vs Love

2009-02-25T21:54:00.000-08:00

Fear. It is a powerful emotion. As a child I struggled with it every day. There were monsters in the toilet when I flushed, under the bed trying to grab my ankles, in the shadows of my dark room. My imagination never had a shortage of monsters that would scare me. But I always had a method to overcome them. If I jumped onto or off my bed, the monsters couldn't reach me. If I was able to wash my hands and get out of the bathroom within ten seconds of flushing the toilet monster wouldn't be strong enough to grab me. If I closed my eyes tight the shadows that formed scary figures would disappear.

My fears today are a little harder to overcome-- mainly because they are more realistic. Getting attacked walking from my parking garage to my dorm late at night. I fear that after twenty-five years of marriage my parents will get a divorce over something ridiculous and trivial and I will get stuck between them. I am scared that my brother will get sent to Afghanistan and end up dead. I am scared that my little sister will eventually marry one of the deadbeat guys she dates and end up unhappy. Mostly, I am scared that I will end up alone.

I tend to have the inability to maintain friendships. I am scared to get too close to people. As a child I was always a loner. When I got older this seemed to cripple me in the friends department, and moving halfway through my high school career didn't help much either.

The New Testament: God is Love, The Last Supper, and My Animal Neighbor

2009-02-18T18:24:00.000-08:00

Although I am currently questioning my religious beliefs and searching for the truth, I do not believe that I could ever truly deny the existence of God. I was brought up strictly Christian- taking the teaching of Jesus both literal and figurative to heart. While I no longer feel the need to place a "name over the door" and identify what "type" of Christian I am; I am simply a Christian. I follow the teachings of Christ. Reading over the New Testament selections in the anthology brought back memories of Sunday School lessons and sermons that I have heard time and time again. The theme of the selections in the anthology seemed to be "God is love." (1 John 4:8)

God is love is the centerpiece of Christianity. Christianity is different from religion. Religion (as defined by the Merriam Webster dictionary) is man worshiping a deity or god-- more simply, man reaching for something outside of himself to worship. Christianity is God reaching out to man. There is a fundamental difference. Because "God so loved the world he sent his only begotten son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have eternal life." (St. John 3:16) To be a true Christian (or to be Christ-like) one must become love.

Becoming more like Christ is the center of the teachings of both Jesus and of the Apostles after Jesus ascends into Heaven. To live a holy life devoid of sin (because sin separates us from the love of Christ) and to love your neighbor as yourself-- "the greatest of all commandments." (St. John 15:12) There are many examples of these teachings. The story of the Rich Young Ruler who asks Jesus what he must do to be saved. Jesus tells him to follow the commandments. When the young ruler answers that he has "kept all these from my youth up," Jesus tells him to "sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven." (St. Luke 18:15-25). The rich young ruler is "sorrowful" at this statement. He cannot think of his neighbor before himself. The most important commandment of all is the hardest to follow. It demands that we give up our selfish nature and care more for the person beside us than for our own self or our own happiness.

This commandment seems simple enough when we think of our neighbors as those around us: our family, friends, significant others. But this commandment stretches beyond that. "Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you…" In this passage Jesus states that your love must be unconditional to everyone around you; Even the "sinners also love those that love them." To be truly Christ-like, we must love those all around us. (St. Luke 6: 27-38)

As I continued through the reading, a new point of view opened up to me on the last supper. Jesus omits the customary lamb from the menu. The writer of this paper, Stephen H. Webb, proposes that

God takes the place of the sacrificial lamb that is usually present. Because God is love and came to save us from our barbaric and sinful ways, why would he continue the suffering of animals? In the Garden of Eden animals and humans lived peacefully side by side. Animals were given the vegetation to eat and humans the fruits of the trees and vine. Man's disobedience and sin removed him from this peaceful environment and forced him to take the lives of animals for clothing and food. God's return to earth and eventual sacrifice of His own body makes it possible for man to come to God once more without sin-- bringing back the time of peace and turning away from suffering of both humans and animals. Revelations describes a heaven where the "lion and the lamb lay down together" in peace. (Revelations 5)

This view-point takes the idea of "God is love" to a whole new level. It demands of the Christian to extend Christ's unconditional love not only to your human neighbor but to you animal neighbor as well. This is a new concept within the realm of Christianity and one that makes me think deeply about my beliefs on vegetarianism and animal rights.

The Bible, Coetzee's Disgrace, and Animal Rights

2009-02-16T20:38:00.000-08:00

Today I found myself watching Animal Cops, one of my favorite shows on Animal Planet about the ASPCA all over the USA that rescue abused and neglected animals and find them new homes. While watching this I began to understand why the advocates of animal rights feel so enraged towards animal cruelty. Watching the show and seeing the abuse that some animals live in without complaint, simply accepting their reality is humiliating to the human race and humbles me.

Click on picture above to watch an Animal Cops episode

Because the Bible mentions animals, it has often been brought up in the argument of animal rights for those that are religious . "In the beginning God created…" (Gen. 1:1) . This is the line that I have been taught my entire life. I can quote the first chapter of the Bible from memory. Those are the words that shaped my early viewpoint of how the world came into being. I was taught that man was the master of animals. That our ability to reason set us apart. As I got older I realized that this superiority came with a responsibility. Although man does have domain over animals, that does not necessarily give us the right to exploit them. The animal activists will quote Genesis saying, "God said, 'See, I give you all the seed-bearing plants that are upon the whole earth, and the trees with seed-bearing fruit; this shall be your food." They claim that humans were never made to eat meat. That we were designed to eat fruits from the beginning. The other side of the argument comes in when Adam and Eve are kicked out of the Garden of Eden. The Bible states that, "Unto Adam and his wife did the Lord God make coats of skins, and clothed them." (Genesis 3:21) This shows that God made clothing for Adam and Eve from an animal's skin. Obviously, they continued this practice because their son Able was a shepherd. And by the middle of Genesis, the Bible speaks of the wife cooking venison for her husband. This is a debate that I have heard many times around the mess hall table at church summer camp between vegetarians and meat-eaters.

Personally, I feel that your religious viewpoint is your own opinion and that debating it or using it to prove a point to someone else does not work well. Usually your religious viewpoint will be different from theirs and will cancel out your point instead of supporting it. You can use your religious beliefs to explain why you choose to your lifestyle, but not to convince others to do the same. Regardless of your religious beliefs, I think we all agree that cruelty towards animals is inexcusable. As Coetzee points out in Disgrace, "Lurie gains a redeeming sense of compassion absent from his life up to this point." (X:75) Although Lurie had lived a life of no importance and sexual scandal, he finally made an impact in the world and learned compassion for those that have less than him by caring for neglected and diseased dogs. At some point, we all learn to either have compassion for others or we spend our lives hurting others.

P3

2009-02-11T21:44:00.000-08:00

Ethics. What are ethics? What does that term even mean? These are the questions I have been asking myself since this essay was presented. Then I realized that these are also the questions that have been haunting me for almost two years.

I grew up within a strict religious family. My family followed the traditions and standards of my church without any questions. We went to church three to four times a week. I was in the youth group, on the bible quizzing team, and eventually taught Sunday school. As an inquisitive and bright child I easily memorized my memory verses and learned to charm my teachers by paying attention and remembering what was taught. I never questioned what I what I was taught; I trusted my pastor as the “voice of God” in my life. But all that changed after graduating from high school my senior year.

I was suppose to go overseas on a six month mission trip, but my pastor found out that I was dating my now current boyfriend (who was not a member of our church) and, without telling me, withdrew his pastoral recommendation for my trip and flagged my file—making it very difficult for me to ever go on an overseas mission trip again. I found out about this from an email the missionary staff sent me questioning the changes on my account. When I went to speak to my pastor, he informed me that I was intertwining my life with an unbeliever and an infidel. He explained that he “knew” my boyfriend’s family and that they were horrible people and sinners and that he could not sanction my overseas trip or any future trip after I had been tainted by this family. I was deeply hurt. I had known my boyfriend’s family longer than I had know him—for almost four years know—and had met nothing but kindness, selflessness, and friendship from all of them. That was one of the last times to date that I attended church. How could I trust someone with my soul who could make false and painful accusations against a group of people because they were different? It made me question everything I had ever believed. I began my search for truth.

This search has taken me down many roads. I have explored Hinduism, Buddhism, Catholicism, and Wiccan. I have searched for a title or a label to put myself under—something I can identify with. I looked until I felt that I fit in nowhere, and then became depressed. Thankfully, through the support of the boyfriend that started it all, I realized that putting a label on myself is not necessary. Upon finally reaching this point I began to question my own values and ethics, deciding on what I want out of my life and how far I am willing to go to get it.

Seeing the judgmental and intolerant nature of someone I looked up to made me never want to be the same. I vowed to forgive him and to be more tolerant of those around me. Working at the restaurant gave me plenty of opportunities to test out my new resolve: new employees that were far below my lofty intelligence level and tested my patience and tolerance to the edge of human resolve, “low-class” versus “high-class” patrons—a distinction the wait staff was quick to point out when a “low-class” patron was seated out of turn in their section, but quick to deny the mis-seat if the patron was “high-class.” Over and over again my judgmental nature and intolerance of those I felt inferior slapped me in the face, a constant reminder that my former pastor was only human. Although I had expected him to act in a more professional manner, I cannot rightfully expect something of him that I cannot do myself. Therefore, I was determined to change; so I would have the right to feel angry towards him. So I could never hurt anyone the way I was hurt.

The decision has tested my determination and my self-restraint. Time and time again I have failed, refocused, and started again. These continual missteps frustrated me, and unfortunately my younger sister always seems to get the brunt of my frustrations. We are very different, yet the same. She seems to see straight through me and can identify why I do what I do—I can do the same with her. I am sure one day we will be close and loving, but for now those moments are far and few-in-between. We seem to push each others’ buttons on purpose, instead of using our instincts to help one another we seem to use it to cut each other down. Although I feel that I have finally moved beyond this point (except occasionally when she is being exceptionally bratty—we are sisters), my conversations with her seem to focus around giving advice about boys and school or motivating her to do better—the latter she usually takes defensively. Learning to control myself and only “help” her when she needs it—instead of assuming she needs my help with everything and bossing her around—has been a strange journey. But learning the self-restraint is critical, it applies to many other areas of my life.

Currently, as a student, self-restraint and time-management are my biggest issues. I have always procrastinated, using the excuse that I work better under pressure. I have had to learn that I cannot make a 4.0 on bullshit and abstractness; I really have to study and know my stuff. I am taking courses on subjects that are new and (sometimes) exciting, but all I can think about is being away from loved ones or being cooped up inside without any contact with nature. I have to re-learn the restraint needed by a good student—there was a time in my life that I enjoyed doing homework and studying new things (even if they were boring). But in order to move on with my life, I must first get through this experience that is supposed to be the highlight of my life—college.

I plan on going into business after school—either real estate, consulting, or marketing—and in the cutthroat world of business I have to consider how far I am willing to go to secure the wants and needs in my life. In the world of business many say if you do not take what you want, someone else will. This brings forward many ethical questions that I must ask myself: Am I willing to break any laws? Would I step on someone else to get to what I wanted/needed? Are my wants any more important than those of my competition—should I take their wants and needs into consideration when making my decisions? These are all questions I am still in the process of answering. The only thing I am sure of now is where I want to end up.

My ultimate goal in life is to be happy. You may ask what exactly does happiness mean? Well, my definition of happiness changes every day. One day it might mean to simply take a walk through the park and watch the squirrels run around. The next day I would be completely unappreciative and unaware of the nature around me and unhappy because the material wants or needs in my life are not up to par with those around me. The next day I would find myself unhappy because the people that I love are too far away. Ultimately, for me, the key to happiness is monetary security. I want enough money to live comfortably and happily, close to the people I love, and surrounded by nature. I don’t need to be the richest, just the most satisfied.

Ultimately, the man that I resented for so long is the one I must thank, for he is the one that sent me on this journey originally. If it had not been for the outrage and pain I felt at his cutting words, I would never have searched out my own path to redemption. Since that time I have become more tolerant and less judgmental of those that are around me. Through accomplishing this and moving on with my life I have begun to learn the self-restraint that will eventually manifest itself in a happy career and family. I have learned that I do not have to put a label on myself or on anyone else— to take everyone as a single person and not group them together. All in all, because of this pilgrimage I have become a better person. How could I have anything but thanks in my heart towards the man that started it all? If only he had know how helpful his words have actually been.

Animal Humanities

2009-02-09T20:50:00.000-08:00

Animal Humanities aka the argument that we should treat animals more like humans in the area of rights and liberties. Whether or not this is actually possible is something that I am still debating within. While I am far from being an animal rights advocate I am also far from wanting animals to be treated cruelty or without compassion. But in all honesty I am tired of debating the ins and outs of why they do or do not.

Animal Humanities: treating animals like humans or respecting them in their natural habitats?

Discussing animals' lack of freedom in a classroom does nothing to help them. I admire the people who break in and let animals free. And I admire those whose diet is free from animal and their byproducts that were taken in inhumane ways, whether for religious reasons or because of their conscience. I admire those that fight with law and reasoning to give animals the rights that they feel that they deserve. We can cry about the issue all we want but the real way to solve it is action, not writing. Although I am somewhat affected by the subject, I probably never stop eating meat or animal byproducts because personally I am simply too lazy. I will be more responsible about where my food comes from, but not completely cut it out. I will probably never write laws to free animals. And I will probably never break into an animal farm and break out animals. That is not my calling.

Maybe its my upbringing that desensitizes me to a certain extent. As Sullivan quotes Lynn White in Ecology and World Religions, "the emphasis in Judaism and Christianity on the transcendence of God above nature and the dominion of humans over nature has led to a devaluing of the natural world and a subsequent destruction of its resources for utilitarian ends." (X: 94) Growing up as a Christian I grew up going to church every week and hearing stories of creation: God created all the animals and that wasn't enough, so He created humans-- the star of all of creation. I grew up understanding that the ability to reason placed me above animals. I was more intelligent and therefore more important. This being said, I did not cut off the legs of spiders to see what they would do. (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, p. 206-9) I enjoy every single part of nature and would prefer to spend a day outside than in a shopping mall. But, when it come down to it, my sympathies lie with humans more than with animals. I am much more likely to take action to help abused children than to go out of my way to advocate animal rights. Although this may seem callous, it is the truth. This is balanced out by my love for nature. Greg Garrard in Ecocriticism states that "environmentalism and animal liberation conflict in both theory and practice," but I disagree. (X: 99) By preserving the environment and ecological habitats you preserve the animals in them. Those that liberate animals will need a habitat to put them into. Without those that work to preserve the environment preserve the world that the animal liberator will release animals into. Although their means are different, the end is the same. Environmentalism and abused children are where my passions lie. If every person had the same passion than there would be too much good will in one area and none in all the others.

My "Primitive" Side

2009-02-04T21:54:00.000-08:00

My earliest memories correspond with nature (and by nature I mean being outside… not the alternative mentioned in the seventeenth century style). Running outside barefooted with my hair blowing out behind me. Sneaking out of my house early in the morning to climb the Welcome Mountain that began a street over, sitting at the top with my feet dangling over the sheer face of rock that greeted my small town. Looking around at all the structures and feeling like I had mastered the world. Riding my bike fast as possible down hills as I pretended I was riding a horse through the open plains. Playing dodge ball in the open grassy lot. Playing hide-and-go-seek in the dark on the full moon and getting my first kiss while hiding under my next door neighbors RV. Dancing under the stars to Spice Girls in my friend's garage/driveway. Jumping off of the small playhouse roof onto the trampoline. Playing basketball in my driveway. Rollerblading up and down the street. These are the memories I will always cherish. My childhood days were spent almost entirely outside: rain or shine, hot or cold-- my parents couldn't keep me inside.

As I have grown older the pull that nature has on me has only strengthened. In elementary I loved recess and PE. Although being a straight-A student, throughout Jr. High and high school, I was the one who got caught staring out the window halfway through the long school day. I played sports for the simple pleasure of spending time outside. Still today I find excuses to sit in the sun on a bright day, or to lower my umbrella and feel the raindrops on a rainy one. Nothing makes me happier than sitting on a blanket in my back yard and watching my cat chase grass hoppers and sunbathe. Touching her hot, sun baked fur warms me to my core. Nature intrigues and inspires me. Windowless rooms terrify me.

So you may ask how did I end up living in the urban sprawl that is ATX. I would answer "with careful research." I chose UT partly because of all the hidden little nature escapes all around campus. Because of the squirrels that make me smile on my way to class. Because I get to walk from A to B, giving me the excuse to be outside. And lastly I chose the dormitory with the largest windows on campus. Even with all this, at times I feel closed in and depressed. Sometimes when I am sitting in class thinking about being outside, I shake myself and ask why? Shouldn’t I have matured out of the "looking out the window" stage in my life? Isn't adulthood about "evolving" from being the child that plays outside into the adult that sits in an office? Shouldn’t I have made "progress" by now?

When I look at this problem I realize that the system of education that I have been subjected to directly opposes the environment that I was raised in. The emotional intelligence that I garnered as a child from nature cannot be lost by the rigors of the education system and the demand that we have "intelligence" defined by books. No matter how much I evolve or am put to the test, my first instincts will always be that that is natural to me-- to be in nature. This "primitive" instinct was not filtered out of me, but fostered into a strong flame by my parents who refused to allow a television in our home but instead fed our imaginations with story books and an outside environment to run free in. I am proud of my "primitive" side and hope to never lose it. This may be why poetry means so much to me. It seems to flow naturally from deep emotions and everyday experiences alike. According to Gary Snyder in Poetry and the Primitive, "Poetry... is not writing or books... Poetry is voice… the voice, in everyone, is the mirror of his own deepest self. The voice rises to answer an inner need." (X: 51-52) My inner need is nature, thus poetry speaks the loudest when I am either surrounded by it or when I have been deprived of it. Nature is "a pure perception of beauty." (X:51) But voice is nothing without breath, and "Breath is the outer world coming into one's body." (X: 51) For as long as I can breathe nature in, it will be a part of my life.

Winter's Tale Play

2008-12-05T12:52:00.000-08:00

The Shakespeare Play The Winter's Tale was put on here at UT by the Actors from the London Stage. They do not use any backdrops and very minimal props. There are only five of them that tell the entire story. They are amazing. Out of all the Shakespeare plays I have seen I enjoyed this one the most. The actors' simplistic style in presenting the play puts all the attention on the story and their acting skills. The slight changes in wardrobe help keep the characters separate and each actor did a wonderful job of portraying their unique characters.

The story itself was very interesting. The husband and king of the country decided that his pregnant wife had been having an affair on him with his good friend, even though this wasn’t true. He imprisoned her and she and she ended up dying in childbirth from the horrible conditions. His son also died from the anxiety of his mother being imprisoned and sentenced to death. He refused to accept the child and had her abandoned in the countryside. Eventually the daughter returns to her father and marries the son of her father's friend. The "statue" that is commissioned of the king's dead wife "comes to life." They all live happily ever after.

The story was very entertaining, but there is also a moral lesson in it. The king is the leader of a country and of his family. In that time the leader's word went, no questions. He is expected to be level headed and make responsible decisions for his family and country. But because of his jealousy and inability to extend sympathetic imagination to those around him and overcome the fantasies in his mind, his entire family suffers for many years. In the end he finally learns to become a good leader, but not before he has enough regrets to last him a lifetime.

Elva Trevino Hart

2008-12-05T12:44:00.000-08:00

"My nana was crying, but she didn't want me to see. She smiled a big sad smile that was suppose to cheer me up. I knew she was sad, and I wanted to be sad too. I wanted her to know that I didn't want Paw to o to prison either. Everyone was solemn and serious. It was a big deal, but I couldn't understand what was going on. I didn't want to stand on the witness stand and tell all those people what happened to me; it was embarrassing. But Daddy said I had to. I wanted Daddy to be there, but he had to work. Daddy always had to work and make money. I wore my favorite dress, the one Nana had made for me; I told Momma that's why I was wearing it, to make Nana happy. The ceiling at the courthouse had a strange design. When I spun in circles it all spun with me; my own personal kaleidoscope. Momma was holding Nana's hand sitting on the bench. Any other day she would have made me stop spinning and sit by her, but today she was letting me do whatever I wanted. I heard her tell Nana that I had worn my dress because I wanted to make her happy. Nana cried harder. I felt bad. I had to wait in the room upstairs with Momma. It was grey and boring. Momma brought games and snacks to keep me occupied while we waited our turn to get on the witness stand. Eventually they came and got Momma. After that, I don't remember anything until later when we went to get lunch. "

This is the story I wrote during Elva Trevino Hart's seminar. I saw her at the Joyne's Reading Room on November 17th and then she visited our Plan II Seminar class on November 18th. It is a class titled: Emerging Selves: The Autobiographical Nature in Women's Writing, and it has been a great journey for me. Although all the class work and books have not been enjoyable, this book made up for all of it. The novel Barefoot Heart describes the journey of a young migrant worker girl in America. She made her way from the child of a migrant worker to IBM executive making a six figure income. She then proceeded to leave all the money and write her story. She felt her life had no meaning; she was a robot and very unhappy. I guess you could say that she was only getting to exercise her "left side brain." Once she finally admitted that she was a creative person and used the "right-side brain." She felt like a complete person. This exercise was close to my heart and I completely identify with her journey. I feel that I am on the same one right now. This book is my current favorite. I feel it will be so for a very long time; that and Susan Cisneros' House on Mango Street.

Lesson Plan: Darwin + Diversity

2008-11-24T23:03:00.000-08:00

Objective: To better understand the diversity we find around ourselves here on campus by looking through the eyes of Darwin

Goals:
- Understand the role that Darwin plays within the idea of diversity and fit that into our daily lives
- To consider once again our relation to nature: Darwin vs. spirituality, our relationship with animals and plants
- To begin our debate on Darwin's theories vs. a spiritual approach to nature
- This is the last discussion of the semester, so I wanted to tie together all the loose ends: starting with natural selection and the origin of species and ending in death.

1. Obviously a diverse atmosphere here on campus. Name weird things seen this past week, the weirdest thing you have seen this semester…

2. Darwin’s ideals of natural selection: Can anyone explain briefly what these are?

o Skaggs: “‘The most vigorous and healthy… must generally gain the victory in their contests’ of survival. This means that there are more factors than simply strength and intelligence that determine the survival and continuance of a certain organism. Their sexual appeal and ability to produce offspring is also important. It doesn’t do an antelope much good to be fast enough to escape the lion only to be so ugly that no one will mate with it…. It is the elegant simplicity of Natural Selection which makes the idea so convincing to me.”
o Saumya: “It makes sense. The strongest (fittest) make it through tough conditions.”
o Kristen: “In Wallace’s paper, published in 1858, “On the Tendency of Varieties to Depart Indefinitely from the Original Type,” he attempts to prove ‘that there is a general principle in nature which will cause many varieties to survive the parent species, and to give rise to successive variations departing further and further from the original type.’ But because we do not generally suffer from animal overpopulation, there must be some sort of limiting factor. Those that can survive better do, and those who are less able to survive do not.”

3. Everyone obviously has their own opinions about natural selection, but as Skaggs pointed out, most the conflict comes with Darwin’s theory on evolution and origin. Would anyone like to share their beliefs? Or maybe the beliefs that they were raised with?

o Saumya: “Contrary to Kristen's home, mine was one of full support for the theory of evolution. My dad, the "believer in science" definitely supports Darwinian views. My dad would use the "survival of the fittest" idea to motivate me to do well in all aspects of life.”
o Skaggs: “I’m very much in favor of the idea of Natural Selection and I tend to support Evolution…”
o Kristen: “I believe that God's word is true and that He did create the world we live in. But that is not to say that he did not use evolution as His means to an end… Although Genesis states that God created everything in seven days, Peter states that ‘one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.’[2] This statement claims that God’s concept of time is different to ours.”
o Kajal: “Therefore, my little theory constitutes that God controls everything… But in all reality, I know nothing.”

4. How does the idea of diversity play into Darwin’s work? Apply to our surroundings: Austin, UT campus (nature- plants and animals), and the people we find here.

o Survival of the fittest (JUDE) vs. compassion and sympathetic imagination
i. Austyn: “Self-preservation- not in the literal sense, rather in the ideal sense- wewant to be on top, and, when we’re too old and decrepit to maintain that position, we want someone to hold it for us. That someone would be our offspring.”
ii. Jenny: “However, for the homo sapien, a physical impediment does not mean the end of his/her gene contribution in the world. Because we have developed technology,”

o How do we feel about ancestors as animals? (from museum tour)

5. Alice and Diversity: What are some examples of diversity in Alice that we can apply to our lives and to Darwin’s theory?

6. As Saumya discussed, what traits (of those we have studied this semester) do you feel are most important when looking to create the “fittest” person, the “most evolved?”

o Saumya: “Intelligence - the ability to analyze the world around you as well as history. An education is necessary for this (this involves a strong left and right brain).Compassion - the ability to have empathy for others. This may not seem like a vital key to survival but because humans are social animals, it is.Sympathetic imagination - the ability to connect, to other people, to animals, to nature.”
o Austyn: ““We strive to be the best we can, and, translated into our current standards, that means the wealthiest and, though some could argue, the most beautiful. However, why do we do this?”
o Examples of Traits/Ideas we have studied: Compassion, Sympathetic imagination, Left- Right Brain mastery, Unity, Education, Leadership, Meditation

7. How does this fit in with the “new persona” we are trying to create for ourselves?

o Diversity as a virtue

8. As we create our “new persona” we must deal with the idea of death. If we consider evolution we must consider time, and that brings us to the idea of death (or the absence of time in our life)…Go to page X: 1004. Answer the question “Why?”

o Kristen: “The rocks that make up the building around campus contain the “skeletons and ghosts”[5] of those that walked this earth before us. And like Newt, I also find comfort in knowing that death and the fear of death is a common emotion between all of humanity. The idea that dying has been going on for generations and that it is the natural progression of life instead of something to fear holds a certain amount of comfort.”
o Skaggs: “Evolution is not observable on any timeline that we humans are capable of understanding. Given a long enough timeline (say millions to billions of years, a timeframe we cannot even begin to fathom as humans who live mere decades), evolution will begin to seem far more probable and believable.”

The Longhorn

2008-11-16T15:31:00.000-08:00

The longhorn is not only a UT tradition; it is a Texas tradition as well. We all have friends and/or family that live outside of this great state (for reasons I do not understand...) that ask us the cliché things about riding to school on horses and living on ranches with cows. I always furiously defend my fellow Texans and explain that we do not in fact live on farms and ranches, that we are civilized. But at the same time there is a portion of me that wants desperately to return to that "uncivilized" time in our history when the livestock roamed free and home was on the range, back to a time when horses were the main source of transportation. Back to the time when the famous cattle drives went up the Chisholm Trail. Every great Texas museum puts a nostalgic air around these rough and wild days of our ancestors. There is something about the longhorn that brings out a certain amount of emotion in Texans. Their power, pride, yet usually gentle ways say a lot about Texans in general. We are all proud of our state, for better or for worse. We think we are the biggest and best (because we are…sorry Dana and Russell). And we are generally laid back and easy going people; where else in the world can you smile at everyone you meet on the street for no particular reason and be sure that they will smile right back?

For the University of Texas, there could be not be a better fitting mascot than the mighty longhorn. As a symbol of the state of Texas for many years, it only made sense for the first public university, funded by the state of Texas, to have the longhorn as its mascot. Since its founding the longhorn has become the totem animal for all things UT. As the Encyclopedia Americana states a totem animal is “an animal… with which a social or religious group feels a special affinity and which is often considered to be the mythical ancestor of the group.”[i] Although all UT fans far and wide definitely feel an affinity for the longhorn I doubt any of us actually believe we are decedents from cows (if only the mascot was a monkey…). There are three basic elements to being a totem animal. First is the social, second is the psychological, and third is the ritual.[ii] UT has all of these. We are adamant fans (a social group) who go crazy while guys in burnt orange uniforms throw a little ball to each other (psychological problems). Before big games with our rival teams we have torch light parades and hex rallies (rituals).

On a more serious note, the power and majesty of the mighty longhorn has long held the respect of Texans, from the days of the cowboys to the present. As Frank Dobie said of the longhorn, “He was a drifter at times; he ranged far and could walk to the end of the world; but the Longhorn was also a home lover and a persistent returner to his querencia, as the vaquero language call the place where an animal is born or to which her shows a strong attachment.”[iii] Longhorns such as Old Whitey “will remain the bedrock on which the history of the cow country of America is founded.”[iv]

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[i] X: 901
[ii] X: 901
[iii] X:258
[iv] X:829

Darwin, Diversity, and Death

2008-11-16T13:06:00.001-08:00

Darwin and evolution were bad names in my home. My parents are staunch religious folks. I was taught that God created everything in seven days, and that was that. There was no exploration of the topic, no discussion. But because the topic was forbidden, I was determine to explore it. I remember not telling my parents that I was studying the topic in my biology class for fear of them calling my teacher and demanding she teach creation as well. I also remember being captivated by the foreign topics and ideals and reading everything I could about them; hiding my books under my bed so my parents would not find them. With all this being said, my parents are great people. I have since realized that they would not have cared if I was studying the topic. Since reaching the age of accountability, my parents have never forced their beliefs upon me. They often say, "I taught you right from wrong and expect you to find your own way down that path."

Since this time in my childhood I have somewhat mixed the ideals of creation and evolution together. I believe that God's word is true and that He did create the world we live in. But that is not to say that he did not use evolution as His means to an end. Thousands of years ago, the writers of the Bible could not be expected to understand the concepts and ideas behind evolution, simply stating that “God created”[1] was enough for them. Today's technology allows us to further understand the "how" behind creation. Although Genesis states that God created everything in seven days, Peter states that "one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day."[2] This statement claims that God’s concept of time is different to ours. Our lives are a speck in all of time to a deity that has always existed and will always exist. Who is to say that it did not take thousands of years for God to create this Earth and everything in it? If He is truly omnipotent and omnipresent then He knew from the beginning that science would progress to the point that we would begin to understand the complexities of how this amazing world was created.

Alfred Wallace was the forerunner to the ideas that Darwin was to later make famous in his Origin of Species. In Wallace’s paper, published in 1858, “On the Tendency of Varieties to Depart Indefinitely from the Original Type,” he attempts to prove “that there is a general principle in nature which will cause many varieties to survive the parent species, and to give rise to successive variations departing further and further from the original type.”[3] Using this idea as a basis for his research, Darwin further developed it to produce his controversial idea of Natural Selection. In an extract from an unpublished work on species, Darwin begins by discussing how that if each animal reproduced every year and lived the average lifespan, and her offspring reproduced and lived the average lifespan, and so on and so forth, that there would be an extreme overpopulation of animals in that region. But because we do not generally suffer from animal overpopulation, there must be some sort of limiting factor. Those that can survive better do, and those who are less able to survive do not. This is the foundation of natural selection. He states that all non-domesticated animals are in competition with one another for resources, and those who are better suited due to small variances in their design are therefore selected by nature to survive. Because they survive these better suited animals are able to reproduce. Eventually those traits that are more favorable will take over the original less favorable traits or as Darwin state it, “Each new variety or species, when formed, will generally take the place of, and thus exterminate its less well-fitted parent.”[4] Thus, evolution by natural selection.

While studying evolution this year in Plan II Biology, I have finally come to fully understand the ideas that I first began to study in middle school. I have formed my own personal theories and concepts and understand that the diversity of the campus around me can be linked not only to my personal faith in an omnipotent deity but also to the philosophies of generations of scientists who have spent their entire life trying to unravel the mysteries of our existence. The rocks that make up the building around campus contain the “skeletons and ghosts”[5] of those that walked this earth before us. And like Newt, I also find comfort in knowing that death and the fear of death is a common emotion between all of humanity. The idea that dying has been going on for generations and that it is the natural progression of life instead of something to fear holds a certain amount of comfort. There is an all knowing deity in charge of the world and I am beginning to scratch the surface of the “how” behind its complex workings; life, death, and change are all part of the cycle.
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1. KJV Bible, Genesis 1:1
2. KJV Bible, II Peter 3:8.
3. Philip Appleman (editor). Darwin. (Norton: New York, 2001) 62.
4. Philip Appleman (editor). Darwin. (Norton: New York, 2001) 86.
5. X:1004

Horses and Mustangs

2008-11-12T21:18:00.001-08:00

Horses. Man, I really love them. They bring out something in me, an emotion that I cannot quite describe. They have this Spirit about them, something free and untamable. They are noble, even in the meanest of positions. When I see them broken and forced about mundane tasks, I get upset. The horses forced to plod around carrying "star-crossed lovers" in carriages about downtown-- forced to breathe in pollution and exhaust because someone thinks they are "cute." I get upset. It goes against the notion that I have in my mind…to explain I must backtrack.

As a child my parents did not allow a television in the house; they felt that we needed to get more out of our childhood than a stories about purple dinosaurs and superheroes could teach us. Instead we played outside and were taken to the local library twice a week. I remember reading all the normal children's books: princesses and princes, cowboys and Indians, fairy tails, fantasy worlds, books that taught morals, books about nonsense, etc, etc. But the books that stand out the most were those about horses. As I grew older and started to read "chapter books," my copy of Black Beauty became worn out. Soon I had read every single one of Louis L'Amour's books. I loved the thrill of the cowboys and their trusty horses, fighting for what was just and right across the wild western landscape. My imagination was further fuel by my mother's numerous accounts of her own childhood growing up on a farm/ranch. As far back as she could remember she and her cousin (who lived with them) had always spent their free moments "roaming the land" atop their own horses. My grandmother teases that my mother could ride before she walked. My mother retold the stories of sneaking out late at night to get a last minute ride through the pastures and of the long afternoons spent somewhere on their land, no one but her and her horse- BJ. I longed to experience these adventures for myself, but growing up in the city left me no chances to fulfill these dreams.

I distinctly remember my first experience atop a horse. When I was still very young, probably five or six, a co-worker and friend of my father invited our family to a bar-b-que at his house. His family owned two horses: Nosey and Prissy. After begging all afternoon, he finally saddled up his horses and allowed all the children to take turns riding. All of this story has been told to me afterwards. The only memory I have of the experience is of sitting in my mother's lap while the horse was moving. I remember my amazement at the horse's mane and strong neck. I was later told that after riding the horse I stood by the fence all afternoon long, refusing to move and staring at the horses. My mom tells me that I spent the entire afternoon (long after all the other children gave up and found other pursuits) trying to coax the horses to eat grass out of my hands. I faintly remember climbing on the coral fence and calling to the horses, trying desperately to my the clucking sound my father's friend had to bring the stubborn horses closer. I remember more than anything the amazement that they brought to my child's mind. They seemed majestic and powerful, yet gentle and friendly. That is the impression I have held ever since.

My second experience with horses was unfortunately not so nice. I was on my morning run through a nearby park and trail and decided to take a different route. I found that it ran alongside the edge of a private field that contained a horse. The horse was actually at the edge of the fence reaching out trying to eat the grass on the other side of his barrier. When I came around the corner and saw him I decided to help him out. I picked a handful of the luscious green grass he was stretching for and held it out for him. Not a good idea. He ate the grass and my hand. I doubt he meant to, but my hand had bruised for weeks. Note to self: do not approach strange horses…

Thankfully my last experience with horses was much better. My mom took my little sister, one of her friends, and me to ride horses at a stable out at the BLORA recreation center close to our home in Temple. There they have horse that have been rescued from abusive owners and nursed back to health. The horses are used to give tours of the Lake Belton area. This is the only time in my adult life that I have actually been able to ride. It was amazing. The horse I rode was named Canyon. He was a desert sand color. The thing that stands out the most is all the different horses' personalities. They were all their own person. Although they allowed you to ride them, the only person they really listened to was their owner, a middle-aged Indian man. He treated them with respect but expected them to mind his every command, and they did-- gladly. Despite the abuse each horse had endured at an earlier point in their life, the Indian gentleman had restored them to their original noble position and given them a position they were proud to carry out.

These experiences are a far cry from how Dobie describes the herds of wild mustangs "leaping and curvetting," [1] running "wild and beautiful," [2] "only fenced by the Rocky Mountains and the Alleghenies." [3] The horses we see today are tame and broken to the will of man. They are rode by those who can afford to have them. The cowboys and mustangs of the past are gone, never again will the stories of those long ago campfires be seen in today's world. A movie depricting this transition in our culture was "Spirit," an animated showing of how a horse may have precieved the events that lead to the capture of almost all wild horses.

Today, some horses have it easy, others are unfortunately mistreated and when dead are sent to the glue factories and slaughterhouses. No longer are horses allowed to make the long journey to their "querencia" to die or to foal in their "place." [4] Horses are now kept in stables, pens, and fields. They are fenced in by man, yet they have retained their Spirit and nobility throughout the years. Do they still have the longing to run free? To run and run without meeting a fence? Do they still have their ancestor's instincts as well as their noble look? If they do, what right do we have to cage them?
_______________________________
NOTES:
[1] X: 849
[2] X: 852
[3] X: 856
[4] X: 852

The Hero of a Whole New Genre

2008-10-29T18:10:00.000-07:00

Dodgson was an ingenious man and a hero in his own right. The stories he wrote about nonsense have inflamed the imaginations of children and adults for generations. To every child that has danced to soundtrack of the Walt Disney production of Alice in Wonderland, to those who got read the bedtime story and dream of their own “wonderland,” to every actor that got their "big break" on a Broadway production of Alice, Charles Dodgson is a hero. Like most heroes, Dodgson denied his connection with this story that revolutionized children's literature. Letters addressed to "Lewis Carroll" were thrown away. [i] He did not want credit for the amazing work; he only offered it to society, a token of sorts.

Before the time of Alice’s Adventures, story books for children were often grim. The stories held inside portrayed grave images of people and children who had disobeyed societal norms or the religious beliefs of the collective whole. Most parents today would be horrified to read the stories to their children; yet in the time of Dodgson, these little books were commonly used to teach children morals and “scare” them into obeying their elders and parents. Dodgson’s stories about Alice— while holding a bit of moral ideas— were basically about “nonsense.” The books were simply silly stories to entertain, not to teach. This idea of a children’s novel for the sole purpose of entertaining had been around for a while, but Dodgson’s Alice in Wonderland made it popular. Since then it has not gone out of style.

Hansel & Gredel is an example of the type of stories that were told long before Dodgson's Alice

The success of Dodgson’s books can be attributed to the ability of children to identify with Alice. For the first time (in many cases) the children were being presented with a character that was not perfect. Unlike the common religious books were the child was portrayed as a miniature saint that the child must try to be like, the Alice that Dodgson created is not the ideal child. Alice is not the smartest cookie in the cookie jar; she is very much the average child. She is curious, somewhat thoughtful (in her own childlike way), and concerned only with her portion of the world. She is respectful to those around her, but doesn’t really go out of her way to follow the societal norms. The children identify with this character that is very much like them; because of this, they can really enjoy the story.

The cover of the first published Alice book by Dodgson

Refusing to take credit for his amazing work, Dodgson became a hero that is been recognized around the world. Dodgson captured the imagination of his young readers with the nonsense and silliness that permeated his stories. He introduced a whole new genre into the world of literature; because of this donation, children around the world have laughed and giggled at the thoughtful Caterpillar, the silly Hatter, and the ridiculous Queen of Hearts.

The Mad Hatter's Tea Party

_________________
[i] Anthology p.674 (John Dougill, on Dodgson’s Oxford, in Oxford in English Literature, p. 130)

Alice In Wonderland

2008-10-20T20:00:00.000-07:00

As Dougill explains in Oxford in English Literature, Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland is a close parallel to a student's life at the University (in particular, Oxford, but UT applies as well). Charles Dodgson "lived all his adult life"[i] at Christ Church (an Oxford College) — first as a student then as a fellow. As the head of the college’s daughter, little Alice Liddell would have recognized many of the people and places that appear in the text are directly related to people and places at Christ Church. This considered many correlations can be made to our life as freshman entering a university and Alice’s adventures in Wonderland and in the Looking Glass.

The most obvious of these similarities is Alice’s fall down the rabbit hole, akin to our spiraling fall into college life and the “emotional distance involved”[ii] in being separated from everything we have known and “plunged into a peculiar world with its own rules, its own logic, and its own language—the university in altered guise.”[iii] But the small detail in her fall that I find interesting is the incident with the “ORANGE MARMALADE.”[iv] Alice picks it up off of the shelf thinking to find a delicious treat within the jar, but just as we open our refrigerators as freshman we are “disappointed”[v] to find it empty. This is reminiscent of our transformation to college students; we are still use to our parents stocking our food supplies. We realize that now, among all the other responsibilities that we have thrust upon us in our new found “freedom” we have to find a way to feed ourselves. As Alice longed to become a queen but then found that the crown was actually “very heavy,”[vi] we are realizing that the freedom we longed for while living with our parents can actually be somewhat of a burden. When I return home to my parent’s house the small nagging things my mother does that use to drive me crazy are now a comfort. Her determination to still treat me as a child even as I outgrow my teen years is strangely encouraging. I now prefer home cooked meals to eating out and actually listen to my father’s advice. After even a few weeks, I have realized—much like Alice—that “it was much more pleasant at home... I almost wish I hadn’t gone down that rabbit hole.”[vii]

Alice’s inability to recite any of her lessons correctly is another curious incident. While in Wonderland she complains to the caterpillar that “I can’t remember things as I used.”[viii] This correlates to the idea put forth by Dougill that “It doesn’t matter what the professor teaches, it’s what the place teaches, it’s the young spirit that breathes in the hearts of those who are taught.”[ix] Thus we are brought back to the caterpillar’s original question to Alice, “Who are you?”[x] This is a question that plagues both Alice (“Who in the world am I?”[xi]) and us as college freshman. With pressure to decide what we want to do with our life and what to major in to meet that end, we are often overwhelmed. We would do well to take a valuable lesson from Dougill and Carroll and simply learn from our surroundings and “stay here”[xii] until we figure it out.

All in all we can draw endless similarities between Lewis Carroll’s Alice and our own experiences here at the university. But on a lighter note, the one I identify the most with is Alice missing Dinah, her cat. I miss my own Patchis very much…

__________________________________

[i] Anthology p.671 (John Dougill, on Dodgson’s Oxford, in Oxford in English Literature, p. 127)
[ii] Anthology p.675 (John Dougill, on Dodgson’s Oxford, in Oxford in English Literature, p. 131)
[iii] Anthology p.672 (John Dougill, on Dodgson’s Oxford, in Oxford in English Literature, p. 126)
[iv] Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, in The Annotated Alice, annotated by Martin Gardner (New York, Norton, 2000) 13
[v] Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 13
[vi] Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There in The Annotated Alice, annotated by Martin Gardner (New York, Norton, 2000) 248
[vii] Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 39
[viii] Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 49
[ix] Anthology p.616 (John Dougill, Oxford in English Literature, p. 170)
[x] Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 47
[xi] Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 23
[xii] Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 24

Ode To The Future Me

2008-10-19T17:52:00.001-07:00

In personality tests I am always categorize as a guardian type figure— someone who is a “cornerstone of society.” [i] I am labeled as someone who is concerned with the protection and continuation of the structures and the needs of our community as a whole. I am described as someone who does not always take the foremost role, but who is capable of leading a team to “get the job done.” As general and broad as these descriptions are, they are very true. I tend to keep lists, feel most comfortable working within a proven system, and enjoy keeping things running smoothly. But unlike the general personality type, I am a dreamer. Raising awareness for the children who have been hurt by sexual abuse is forefront among these dreams. But to realize this dream, I need more than the traits that a guardian personality will offer. I need to be a strong leader.

Being a strong leader encompasses many different aspects. I have known many leaders, but the ones that I respect the most are those that are passionate about the work they are doing, those that work to earn respect instead of simply demanding it, and those that understand that everyone is human and makes mistakes— including themselves. When I think over the life that I want to lead I have begun to understand that my long term goals cannot be realized without also transforming myself into a strong leader. The person I look up to the most in this respect is my father.

My father has strong business sense. He is an entrepreneur— a man that believes in himself and never questions his instincts. He is a family man that patterns his life after God’s will and always worries first about providing for my mom, siblings, and I and last about providing for himself. He has years of experience and freely shares the wisdom that it affords him. But at the same time he never shoves this advice at you or demands that you take the path he believes best. He raised my brother, sisters and I to be independent. Not to worry about other people and what they may think, but to do whatever you feel is best for yourself— within the realm of righteous living. We were taught to be courteous of others (especially our elders) and to not tread on the feeling of those who care about us. Out of all of the relationships I value, my father is the person that I would be most proud to emulate. He is my hero and my cheerleader.

When carefully studying my father’s character and his ability to lead without dragging those that follow him, I look at the traits that he possesses and I lack. I find that he has a strong sense of confidence in himself and in his judgment— that he understands and accepts himself and his boundaries, his strengths and his weaknesses. That he is compassionate and sympathetic towards others; he does not judge people based on stereotypical and superficial concepts, and he takes full responsibility for his actions— whether they are good or bad. But the trait that I most admire in my father is that he is a teacher, not is the sense of a vocation but that he shares the knowledge and stories he has gathered throughout his life with others.

The goal that I am most certain of is to become a teacher or professor one day. While this is a vocational goal, I also admire the ability to teach others in everyday life when you are about whatever task you might find yourself— to be a “lifetime teacher.” Because I want to be able to share my passion with others concerning the abuse of children, I have to be able to teach people why this is important. By raising awareness and simply sharing my story, people can become more informed on the subject and learn how to help prevent the abuse in their personal realms of influence.

But to become a teacher and to emulate the qualities that I see in the leaders around me, I must continue to build my character and to educate myself. Thus I enrolled in the Plan II program. According to Newman, the goal of a liberal arts education is the “cultivation of the intellect”[ii] or the construction of the character. The broad based courses required for a Plan II degree open my mind to new ideas and concepts and stretch my understanding of things different from myself. It forces me to try new things and to become a more well rounded person, to stretch my abilities and passions. Thus, ultimately helping me to relate to people that I find myself surrounded by and to become a more compassionate and sympathetic person.

The addition of literature and composition courses is equally important. These courses allow for self-exploration and give me time to delve into the literary accounts of the lives of others and learn from their struggles. May Sarton’s experiment with “aloneness” in the Journal of Solitude[iii] or Alice’s realization in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There that the position of a queen that she had been so anxious to achieve came with a crown that was actually “very heavy” and “fitted tight”[iv] are excellent examples of knowledge that can be gleaned from both fiction and non-fiction accounts. On the opposite end of the spectrum, the business courses that I am enrolled in help me to develop the skills necessary to succeed in today’s world; almost everything is somehow related to business and commerce. A basic understanding of these concepts will help me to succeed in anything I choose to pursue as well as teach me to be a leader in the business world that I want to work in before becoming a teacher.

Outside of the classroom, extracurricular activities are also important to the development of leadership skills. In Senate of College Councils, I am surrounded by peers that are all diverse with different agendas and goals. Working in this diverse atmosphere to accomplish a common goal is a test of everyone’s abilities. Being involved in clubs gives me a chance to meet different people and make friends with fellow young leaders that are dedicated to making a difference in the world and in UT while we are here. This is the atmosphere where I am allowed to test out the leadership skills that I am learning in the classroom. This “testing ground” is integral to the learning process.

As I attend this university and learn how to apply leadership skills and the ability to teach to my everyday life I am sculpting myself into the type of person that I ultimately want to be. By teaching others the effects of abuse and advocating for those who have lost their innocence I fulfill my passion in life. As a victim, by helping myself become a strong leader and successful person I can provide inspiration to those who have been hurt and lead others to help in the fight against the sexual abuse of children.

_________________

[i] Myers-Briggs Personality Test Descriptions, http://www.keirsey.com/handler.aspx?s=keirsey&f=%20fourtemps&tab=2&c=overview
[ii] Newman, “From Idea of a University” in vol.1, The Composition and Reading in World Literature Anthology, ed. Jerome Bump (Austin: Jenn’s Copy and Binding, 2008) 319
[iii] May Sarton, Journal of Solitude (New York: Norton, 1992)
[iv] Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There in The Annotated Alice, annotated by Martin Gardner (New York, Norton, 2000) 248

UT Heroes

2008-10-13T19:41:00.000-07:00

When I decided to come to UT it was not because someone famous had graduated from this institution, but because numerous famous people had graduated from these prestigious halls. No one person can make an institution worthy, but the tradition of excellence that has become the norm over the years sets the University of Texas apart in many respects.

As I read over the many accounts from different alumni that have gone on to greatness, certain points stand out to me: Margaret Cousins description of Austin as "the Athens of the West" (x: 942), Tom Jones honest admittance of having "loved it" (X: 951) when speaking about UT, or even John Schwartz simple description of the UT experience being "illuminating" (X: 973). I tend to identify with each of these points. There has not been a single moment here on campus that I have not enjoyed with every fiber of my being. The world of academia is where I belong— it calls out to me, drawing me in as a mother hen shelters her young. I have known for a long time that UT is a place of illumination; but as I read over these accounts, I realized that what you choose to do with this illumination is ultimately what crowns you either a UT alumni or a UT hero.

UT heroes are not necessarily the brightest students to walk our 40 acres, but they are always the leaders. As Red McCombs pointed out when receiving the UT Distinguished Alumni Award, " I'm representative of the group of C-students who didn't distinguish themselves in a given field, but still were contributors to their communities and were in leadership roles." (X: 989) By his own admittance he was not the brightest business student, but he was a leader and knew how to make his degree and the knowledge he had gleaned from this institution work for him. As a successful man he became a true UT hero— learning not only to take in life, but to give back as well.

Each of the heroes listed identify UT and Austin with a certain amount of surreal nostalgia that surrounds their time here at my current home— a time of “intellectual awakening” (X: 989) and “freedom without responsibility.”(X: 943) They describe being truly happy and content, full of life and opportunities. These accounts are inspirational and saddening at the same time. They remind me that this time of my life is only a short season, but inspire me to dream of all the opportunities that await me outside of these lush, "tree studded" (x: 942) grounds. I admire their accomplishments and imagine doing things even greater. Many may call these people UT heroes, but I deem them UT role models. They are people that every student can look up to; people that every student can relate to, because after all, in these accounts they are simply students like me and you.

Preserving Innocence

2008-09-30T00:33:00.000-07:00

As someone who was abused as a child I have always been an advocate for the innocent. There are few things that truly shock me out of the numb, self-centered, isolated world that I call me, but a child whose innocence has been ripped unceremoniously from them is definitely on the top of the list. There is a certain tint to their eye, a certain awareness of modesty and shame that becomes present in their mannerism. The carefree attitude disappears; the burden of adulthood is thrust upon them. They do not know how to deal with their situation. Most do not even fully understand what happened, many blame themselves. Some try to forget and may be successful during the sun’s reign, but all remember in the nightmares they wake up from screaming every night. They can no longer fit in with the frivolous chatter of their classmates, harboring a knowledge that others will not understand for years to come. Who do they turn to? The subject is a taboo; they are embarrassed to discuss it. The hopelessness of their situation settles in quickly.

There are an estimated thirty-nine million survivors of sexual abuse in America today.[1] Many people believe that these are examples of random attacks on unprotected children in homes with absent parents. But in reality only 10% of sexual abuse cases against children were committed by an adult who was a stranger to the child. The other 90% of victims are abused by a family member or by someone outside of the family whom they know and trust.[2] The age of these children is equally shocking- on average they are only nine years old,[3] and more than 20% of children are sexually abused before the age of eight.[4] As sickening as these statistics are, we have to remember that each one of those children needs someone who understands to help them through the rehabilitation process.

But before we can help them, we have to identify them. How can we tell these children from all the others? There is no right answer. They are the children that seem tough and indifferent to the world around them. They are the children who disappear into the fairy worlds offered by movies and books. They are the shy little girls that try to blend into the wall. They are the children that look at adults with a certain amount of distrust. They are the smart overachieving children; they are the children who refuse to apply themselves. Evidence that a child has been sexually abused is not always obvious. The only prevailing similarity is that they are all hurting and broken inside. Many young victims may not even realize that they are being abused. In one case that incensed me and tore at my heart, a little girl had been abused by her father as far back as she could remember. He had taught her that it was what “daddies and little girls did.” Without knowing any better, how could she be expected to report his actions as abuse? This particular case was discovered by a nurse during routine checkups by comments the child made, a typical discovery method. Most children who report sexual abuse do so accidentally. 20% of cases are identified by adults because of the child’s abnormal behavior, as in the example above- only 5% of children actually realize they are being abused and report it.[5] Because children are so gullible, the adult abusing the child will often use outrageous threats to keep them silent. They are told that people will think they are gross and make fun of them, that no one will believe them, or that if they tell anyone what is going on that the adult will hurt someone that the child loves or the child itself.

All throughout high school I volunteered at a center for female children who had been sexually abused. As a survivor of this particular base and horrible type of abuse, I carry as soft spot for these children. It breaks my heart to see the difference between these shattered little girls with tears so close to falling and the little girls who dance innocently around the parlor of my church every Sunday- fate being the only thing that divides them from one another. My heart fractures anew for each child; I want to hold them close and tell them that everything will be okay, but because of the crimes committed against them, they are often leery of human contact. The simple act of hugging- normally a reassuring action- would make them feel self-conscience and uneasy. It is impossible to truly understand the turmoil of emotions these little girls feel- how dirty and ashamed -unless you have been through the same thing. For this reason, the center recruits past victims as peer councilors. Distracting the little girls with toys so they felt more comfortable was my main duty. Sometimes I would be asked to help prepare case information that the district attorney would present to the jury. As I helped with this I would often be taken back to my seven year old self and my own traumatic experience in the courtroom. Back to the terrifying memories of sitting in the lonely witness stand in a room full of strangers- so little I could barely see over the half wall. The silence that filled the room as the attorney asked me to describe what happened was deafening. I remember the old smell of the courtroom and the sound of the typist clicking on the keys. But mostly I remember my own shame and despair as I gave the damning testimony that sent my grandfather to prison for twenty years. Reliving this scene from my memory over and over helped to dull the pain and gave me the experience I needed to coach these children though their own trials.

Unfortunately, this scene in the courtroom is where my few childhood memories begin. I have a few other scattered recollections and vague wisps of images that float through my head at times, but I never know if I've made them up or if they are real. My psychologist says that I have buried all but my absolute favorite memories somewhere in my subconscious. This is an example of how the child psyche is unique and fundamentally different to that of the adult. When adults are unhappy they complain, they change things to suit their needs better; when they are scared or do not understand something they find help. When something is truly troubling a child, they are more likely to bury those feelings and simply not dwell on them. If a certain idea or thought brings forward emotions that are unsettling, they would rather just not think of it. Many children create an alternate ego for whom they claim these things are happening to. Therefore, when asked directly what happened to them, the child will often say nothing or simply ignore the question. Children in these situations cannot fully rationalize what they have been through- they do not have the words to describe what they are thinking and feeling. Therefore, treatment must be done carefully and on their level to bring out the truth and slowly begin to heal them, from the inside out.

Getting psychological treatment is integral in the recovery process. Victims who never receive any counseling are statistically more likely to develop many behavioral and health problem later in life, including: substance and drug use, manic depression, eating disorders, early teen promiscuity and pregnancy, and involvement in crime. Over 75% of teenage prostitutes have reported cases of childhood sexual abuse in their past.[6] Statistics like these could fill a library. In the words of Herbert Ward, “Child abuse casts a shadow the length of a lifetime;”[7] it leaves tell-tell signs of how sexual abuse can damage a person for life. On the other hand, there are plenty of examples of people who lead perfectly normal lives and who have found ways to cope with the events from their childhood. Thankfully, with the love and support of my family, I am one of these people.

That being said, it is my responsibility to give back to the community what I have gleaned from it. I must donate my time to being a playmate for little girls who need someone to draw pictures with them in their first few visits to the psychologist’s office. Just as a young lady sat next to me so long ago and told me that things would be better one day and to simply take one step at a time, I must be an understanding and encouraging escort to the little girl who sits bravely in the witness stand and gives her embarrassing testimony to a room of strangers in front of her abuser. I must be a big sister to little girl that wants to play with the Barbie dolls at the center while waiting for her weekly appointment. I need to be a glimmer of sunshine in these little girls’ lives to remind them that they can move on and overcome, just as someone did for me. To re-teach these little girls the innocence they lost, that is my passion.

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[1] Abel, G., Becker, J., Mittelman , and M., Cunningham, “Self reported sex crimes on non-incarcerated paraphiliac,” Journal of Interpersonal Violence 2, no. 1 (1987): 3-25.

[2] H. N. Snyder, “Sexual assault of young children as reported to law enforcement: Victim, incident, and offender characteristics,” National Center for Juvenile Justice, U.S. Department of Justice (2000).

[3] F. Putnam (2003). “Ten-year research update review: Child sexual abuse,” Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry 42, (2003): 269-278.

[4] Snyder, Sexual assault of young children as reported to law enforcement, 270

[5] Snyder, Sexual assault of young children as reported to law enforcement, 270

[6] N.D. Kellogg, T.J. Hoffman, and E.R. Taylor, “Early sexual experience among pregnant and parenting adolescents,” Adolescence 43,(1999): 293-303.

[7] James B. Simpson, comp, [Herbert Ward, “Annual report, St Jude’s Ranch,” Boulder City NV, 1985], Simpson’s Contemporary Quotation,. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1988. www.bartleby.com/63/.

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Illustrations Cited:
1. Picture: Hurting Little Girl: http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.adoptionblogs.com/media/FosterAdoption/child%2520crying.jpg&imgrefurl=http://fost-adopt.adoptionblogs.com/c1626&h=237&w=250&sz=10&hl=en&start=14&um=1&usg=__6Ierzi6aLk4qi6__xdq-Kij2CCg=&tbnid=hvZxJkPUJuKT5M:&tbnh=105&tbnw=111&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dsexually%2Babused%2Bchildren%26ndsp%3D18%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26rlz%3D1T4SUNA_enUS272US286%26sa%3DN

2. Picture: 1 in 4 girls http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.assumption.edu/Bikeride/images/header.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.assumption.edu/Bikeride/&h=375&w=374&sz=40&hl=en&start=16&um=1&usg=__GQv4zFpQEUd0lqj4HbaFzoR6ojE=&tbnid=kwyjjhumQd1r-M:&tbnh=122&tbnw=122&prev=/images%3Fq%3D1%2Bin%2B4%2Bgirls%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26rlz%3D1T4SUNA_enUS272US286

3. Picture: Children’s Advocacy Center of Texas www.cacct.com/
4. Picture: Herbert Ward Quote http://groups.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=groups.groupProfile&groupID=107076290&MyToken=3bf9aa73-04ec-4469-9722-a3538532e754
5. Picture: Restoring Innocence http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.firstjax.org/files/children/Smiling%2520little%2520girl%25204.png&imgrefurl=http://www.firstjax.org/163523.ihtml&h=538&w=768&sz=667&hl=en&start=117&um=1&usg=__1ohchD8wjNAXC7MHYFLfDyjBjjo=&tbnid=ucwjMWRJQTy-iM:&tbnh=99&tbnw=142&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dlittle%2Bgirl%26start%3D108%26ndsp%3D18%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26rlz%3D1T4SUNA_enUS272US286%26sa%3DN

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Word Count: 1560

My Idea of a University

2008-09-17T08:33:00.000-07:00

I always knew that I would attend a University. I never wanted to "go to college." Attending a university always sounded better; I quite often told people that I was going to do so just so I could hear it. My father went to Texas A&M and was one semester shy of graduation when he decided he hated his major and quit. I didn’t want to be him. I have been told since entering GT in my early elementary years that I was "gifted, intelligent, smart, above-average," etc… I wanted to make a difference in the world, be the first in my family to graduate from a university, to get a degree.

I have always loved learning, so continuing to a higher education always seemed the natural thing to do. Although it seemed a simple enough task, the difficult part came in when choosing which of the many astute universities that I would ultimately pledge my allegiance to; in deciding where I would live and learn and which major I would choose to study. I remember being quite dismayed upon learning that, at the university level, you had to choose a specific topic of study…I did not understand this concept. My wonderful father soon helped me out by informed me that unfortunately he did not possess the funds for me to "learn everything" and I would have to find something that I was interested in. I was somewhat crestfallen, but quickly rallied and began to decide what I would be. Every week it was something different. I constantly pestered my father asking him if I could learn to be an Astronaut at a university (or lawyer, or "pet-doctor," or teacher, or well you get the point). Eventually I decided on aerospace engineering. I wanted to design spaceships; I loved studying outer space and wanted to be able to go there one day on a spaceship that I had designed. That seemed the coolest thing ever, I also wanted to be able to say that "it is rocket science" (yes, I know, corny). But I gave that idea up as well as all the others after a year of intense calculus. I currently want to do something that doesn’t involve sitting at a desk in a florescent jungle doing endless amounts of mindless work 24/7. Haven't quite got around to deciding what that something is going to be though...

Well obviously I chose to come to the University of Texas here in Austin (my father was disappointed to say the least), or UT depending on who you are talking too, and got accepted into the Plan II program…whatever the hell that is, as Tyler stated, "no one really knows." All I knew about it was that it would allow me to continue to "learn everything" (so there Daddy!). I have a major without really having any idea what I want to do with my life, or maybe I should say having way too many ideas with what I want to do with my life…which fits nicely with the philosophy of Plan II set up by Dean Parlin in 1935 "Education for a life, not for a living" (x: pg. 343I, "Plan II at the University of Texas at Austin"). Supposedly I am being prepared for whatever I choose to endeavor as this life continues.

I have found Plan II students to be an amazing group of people, all diverse and yet strangely alike. It is almost as though I have entered a little world where everyone is kind of like me; the opposite of Alice's experiences… weird I know, but comforting in another way. It is amazing how the smaller groups are allowing each of us to "learn to respect, to consult, and to aid each other" along this voyage that we call education. (X: pg. 309; "The Idea of a University, 1852") My Plan II classes are the ones I look forward to the most. They allow me to truly explore ideas I have not thought of before.

But in studying the university as a whole, I was struck by how much of it is simply a social melting pot as Lydia touched on. As if we were the little frogs spoken of the lecture last night ("Why Males Die Before Mating"), all hanging out in our little ponds waiting for another to walk on by; if not for mating purposes then for friendship (although I am sure there is plenty of both going on). All kinds of students from different backgrounds and walks of life that, even though "they cannot pursue every subject," they are benefiting "by living among those and under those who represent the whole circle as all the branches of knowledge are connecting together." (X: pg. 308-9; " The Idea of a University, 1852")

Thus one might say that the University is a place where the social and academic aspects of life become united in a single existence. Where there is harmony and unity among students living and working toward the same overall goal. Where the past and present come together as those before us continue to provide a public education for current students in the effort to “develop and sustain the economy of the nation.” And for those of us in the Plan II program they continue the tradition of liberal arts education to “cultivate the intellect” of the nation. (X: pg. 306; Annual address to the faculty, October 16, 1984; President Peter T. Flawn)

A New Generation: The New Whole- Brain

2008-09-02T21:30:00.000-07:00

I have grown up in a new generation. A generation different from those before it. A generation that is integrated into the internet and media more than any before us. A generation that no longer expects its education to be narrow and include only the elements that will make them an engineer or businessman. A generation that uses their whole-brain. My generation is hungry for the knowledge that others have passed by. As research and studies show increasing examples in the complexity of the human brain, this new generation eagerly laps up the ideas put forth in effort to expand our familiarity with all the disciplines of knowledge available.

In past years the emphasis in higher education has centered on the idea that a student must be prepared only for the specific applications that will be their career upon graduation. In this way of thinking, an engineer should only learn mathematics and science and an English major should not be required to take classes in world history. As this way of thinking begins to change, we question the factors that encouraged these changes.

Long before our time Leonardo de Vinci personified the idea of the "Renaissance Man." As the "Information Age" of recent years slowly evolved the importance of a well rounded education became more and more obsolete, the presence of education based in "logical and precise use of the left-brain" became the norm. (Revenge of the Right Brain, pg: X329) "The Whole Person Paradigm" was ripped apart, separating the "mind" from the "body, heart, and spirit." Putting the importance of the "IQ" over that of the" PQ, EQ, or SQ". (x: 40-46) The ideas of emotional and creative quests were frowned upon as frivolous wastes of time, and consequently the development of the right-brain as a society has been crippled. Only recently has the revolution of the "Conceptual Age- ruled by artistry, empathy, and emotion" begun to return the focus to the importance of the right-brain. (Revenge of the Right Brain, pg: X329)

As we have grown up the influence of media, both visual and audible, is impossible to ignore. These factors are largely due to our integration with television and the World Wide Web (aka- the Internet). We have grown up looking at and hearing all the products and ideas of the people around us, not only reading them. This stimulus of our right-brain activity is carried through to the classroom. As our new, knowledge hungry generation arises and begins our own pursuit of higher education we find that the ideas being presented to us not only include left-brain learning, but incorporate right-brain learning as well to the end of the holistically educated person Bump speaks about in his article "Left vs. Right Side of the Brain: Hypermedia and the New Puritanism." Traditional ways of teaching do not affect us. We are accused of being the "never crack a book to study" generation…why should we when the plethora of website afford us endless opportunities to learn the same material while stimulating both sides of our brain, therefore, allowing us a better understanding of the concepts as a whole. As the "Brain Dominance Theory" points out, we are able to "analyze" and "synthesize" information better than those before us because of this integration of both sides of our brain. (Covey, pg: 130)

The inventors of "Web 2.0 … The Machine is Us/isg US" marvel at the relationship my generation has with the internet. The film’s title admits that we are separate yet the same. It is a machine or a tool, but yet it is a part of our everyday life. Without even knowing it, and maybe by accident our generation has been geared from the very beginning to be something completely different than those before us. The idea that "you can respect both sides of your own nature- the analytical side and the creative side. [That] you can value the difference between them and use that to catalyze creativity" is something the generation before us is finally beginning to learn, but it is what we have known all along. (Covey, pg: 283). It is not an issue of whether to use one side of the brain or the other, but to be able to use the two as one. A new generation, the new whole-brain.