My eyes became as big as saucers, my heart beat fast, and my legs hurried up the steps in anticipation. I enter the building pulling a cart with all my belongings in it behind me. Then it hit me, Milton is my new home. I am going away to college and I am living in a dorm. I now live in a 14' x 12' room and share it with another person I have never met before!
I took a deep breath. I rest my hand on the door handle to room 139. The first floor. That may prove convenient, I thought. What if my roommate is strange? Why did I go potluck? I should have gone to a college where I actually knew someone! Too late now. I open the door. There she is. She has short brown hair, a big welcoming smile, and an outgoing personality. Maybe this will work.
The day flew by filled with many trips to Walmart, trips to the car, organizing, realizing how unprepared I was to live on my own, and uneasy feelings. As my parents car drove away, I began to reflect. I am in a town I do not know my way around, I do not know anyone but a handful of people, and tonight I have to share a room with a complete stranger! Why did I not go to school in Houston? I began to take in the sight of my room. I have to live here for the next 8 months of my life.
Due to my shy nature, I stayed in my room that night. My roommate ended up staying with her parents in their hotel room. They were not ready to part ways yet. I started to cry. The stress of the day and now staying by myself in a foreign place took its toll. I called my mom. "Kara, you need to tell the RA that you are sleeping alone tonight. It's not safe!" There was no way I was going to act like a baby and tell my RA I needed supervision. I just gained independence, I do not want it back anytime soon. My mother comforted me until she went to bed.
Then I decided to call my best friend from back home. We laughed at my circumstances. "This would only happen to me! Of course my roommate doesn't even stay the night the first night and I know no one else!" I laughed the rest of the night away and no longer worried about not make friends. I would have to push myself. Putting myself out there was always a struggle of mine, but I must make friends.
In the coming weeks, my roommate met many people and her outgoing personality made it easier for me to make friends as well. She proved a good roommate and we complemented each other's personalities. I pushed through rush week and the first week of school and managed to make friends. Without the support base of my family nearby, it proved difficult to get out there, but when I did, I found myself. Just Kara. I became myself through moving out, meeting new people, and making my own decisions. This was the beginning of my autonomous self.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Conversation Partner: Meeting #6
This past Thursday WeiRan and I met for the last time. His face shone with excitement and happiness more than usual. As usual, I inquired after his week. Nothing out of the norm happened in his life that week. He played video games, stayed up late, and avoided homework. Then why did WeiRan appear so excited?
I soon came to find WeiRan's excitement came from his anticipation of summer. He cannot wait to go home and see his friends. He hates school and is excited about no longer having to do homework. However, WeiRan has one worry: his last test in the foreign exchange student program. WeiRan struggles with English. If he passes the class, he can begin school at TCU, if he does not then he must repeat the course until he passes.
Next, WeiRan asked me how many hours a day I study for classes. I told him between 4-6 hours at least. His jaw dropped and he said "So if I go to school at TCU I must study that much." I explained that I have goals and work really hard so I can get into graduate school. WeiRan did not like the idea that classes at TCU are hard. WeiRan admitted that he would rather enjoy the freedoms of college without the work. Wouldn't we all? But college is the precursor to the real world, so hard work is necessary.
After telling WeiRan that college is hard, I think he strongly considered not going. I still cannot understand why he is strongly opposed to school and learning. Maybe I would feel the same way if I attended school in China and struggled to learn the language.
Then, WeiRan asked me for television show recommendations. He wants to watch tv shows to assist him in learning English. WeiRan believes listening to the dialogue will help him in his own personal dialogue in English. I showed him Hulu and mentioned tv shows such as The Office, How I Met Your Mother, and New Girl. He mentioned liking action shows, so I referenced Bones. I think he will really enjoy the comedy and mystery aspect of Bones.
Soon, our time was up. I said my last goodbye to WeiRan. I wished him luck with his final exam and said I hoped to see him next semester. He left with a smile and wished me the same. I really enjoyed getting to know him and his culture. Talking to WeiRan always proved to be interesting.
I soon came to find WeiRan's excitement came from his anticipation of summer. He cannot wait to go home and see his friends. He hates school and is excited about no longer having to do homework. However, WeiRan has one worry: his last test in the foreign exchange student program. WeiRan struggles with English. If he passes the class, he can begin school at TCU, if he does not then he must repeat the course until he passes.
Next, WeiRan asked me how many hours a day I study for classes. I told him between 4-6 hours at least. His jaw dropped and he said "So if I go to school at TCU I must study that much." I explained that I have goals and work really hard so I can get into graduate school. WeiRan did not like the idea that classes at TCU are hard. WeiRan admitted that he would rather enjoy the freedoms of college without the work. Wouldn't we all? But college is the precursor to the real world, so hard work is necessary.
After telling WeiRan that college is hard, I think he strongly considered not going. I still cannot understand why he is strongly opposed to school and learning. Maybe I would feel the same way if I attended school in China and struggled to learn the language.
Then, WeiRan asked me for television show recommendations. He wants to watch tv shows to assist him in learning English. WeiRan believes listening to the dialogue will help him in his own personal dialogue in English. I showed him Hulu and mentioned tv shows such as The Office, How I Met Your Mother, and New Girl. He mentioned liking action shows, so I referenced Bones. I think he will really enjoy the comedy and mystery aspect of Bones.
Soon, our time was up. I said my last goodbye to WeiRan. I wished him luck with his final exam and said I hoped to see him next semester. He left with a smile and wished me the same. I really enjoyed getting to know him and his culture. Talking to WeiRan always proved to be interesting.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Hello, Public School
I looked around the big lunch room, the long never-ending hallways, the dark blue, silver, and white tile. All seemed alien to me. It had been four years since I stepped into a school as a potential student (except for the brief stint in 3rd grade). The blatant difference between this school and my previous school was population.
For the previous four years I had been homeschooled. It was just Lauren, my sister, and I. My mom taught us and sometimes my dad. I loved being homeschooled. But, the time had come for change. In 2003, many events made it necessary for my sister and I to enter public school--specifically financial issues. My mom worked as a CPA for my dad's business now. No more stay-at-home-mom. My dad was just trying to keep his sub-sea drilling censor business alive. Before being homeschooled, we went to a private school, but we could not afford that option now.
This is why I stood here. This is why I stood here in this big, cold, school that had huge windows and kids running around in awkward polo and khaki uniforms. I didn't know how I felt about it. I felt scared, maybe, and just empty. I felt nothing. My best friend who I homeschooled with had moved to Alaska, for the first time I realized how financially unstable my families circumstances were, and other unhappy circumstances made 2003 an unenjoyable year. For now we will focus on the school aspect of that year.
I drew a deep breath as I entered the 6th grade hallway. I had my binder strap on one shoulder and my lunchbox strap on the other. I fumbled with my schedule. I strained to see the last names of teachers printed on white laminated paper stuck to the top of the blue cement bricks. This paper signaled the entrance of the small branching hallways that held the classrooms.
I scowled at my "regular" classes schedule. The Texas School Board did not think my homeschooling education entitled me to "advanced" classes, even though test results said otherwise (can you tell I haven't exactly let this go?). These classes bored me.
The fiery, loud, and outgoing girl changed into a quiet, subdued individual. I learned to stay quiet in class, work hard, and keep ideas to myself. Reading became my favorite class because I could get lost in books. I could forget that year when I read. I became the protagonist in stories when I read. I empathized with their losses and rejoiced with their gains. I loved reading.
I had some friends. The outgoing people who chose to reach out to me became my friends. But I mostly focused on school. My thought process was I must do well in school in intermediate school to do well in high school and get a scholarship so I can go to college. With my families financial circumstances, college became only a hope, not a certainty. I became determined.
Being thrown into public school taught me how to adapt. My financial circumstances and other humbling experiences helped me empathize with other people. This is when I decided I wanted to be a psychologist. I wanted to help people who felt just as alone as me.
For the previous four years I had been homeschooled. It was just Lauren, my sister, and I. My mom taught us and sometimes my dad. I loved being homeschooled. But, the time had come for change. In 2003, many events made it necessary for my sister and I to enter public school--specifically financial issues. My mom worked as a CPA for my dad's business now. No more stay-at-home-mom. My dad was just trying to keep his sub-sea drilling censor business alive. Before being homeschooled, we went to a private school, but we could not afford that option now.
This is why I stood here. This is why I stood here in this big, cold, school that had huge windows and kids running around in awkward polo and khaki uniforms. I didn't know how I felt about it. I felt scared, maybe, and just empty. I felt nothing. My best friend who I homeschooled with had moved to Alaska, for the first time I realized how financially unstable my families circumstances were, and other unhappy circumstances made 2003 an unenjoyable year. For now we will focus on the school aspect of that year.
I drew a deep breath as I entered the 6th grade hallway. I had my binder strap on one shoulder and my lunchbox strap on the other. I fumbled with my schedule. I strained to see the last names of teachers printed on white laminated paper stuck to the top of the blue cement bricks. This paper signaled the entrance of the small branching hallways that held the classrooms.
I scowled at my "regular" classes schedule. The Texas School Board did not think my homeschooling education entitled me to "advanced" classes, even though test results said otherwise (can you tell I haven't exactly let this go?). These classes bored me.
The fiery, loud, and outgoing girl changed into a quiet, subdued individual. I learned to stay quiet in class, work hard, and keep ideas to myself. Reading became my favorite class because I could get lost in books. I could forget that year when I read. I became the protagonist in stories when I read. I empathized with their losses and rejoiced with their gains. I loved reading.
I had some friends. The outgoing people who chose to reach out to me became my friends. But I mostly focused on school. My thought process was I must do well in school in intermediate school to do well in high school and get a scholarship so I can go to college. With my families financial circumstances, college became only a hope, not a certainty. I became determined.
Being thrown into public school taught me how to adapt. My financial circumstances and other humbling experiences helped me empathize with other people. This is when I decided I wanted to be a psychologist. I wanted to help people who felt just as alone as me.
BFBU: Best Friend Break-ups
I sat in the passenger seat of the car holding the brown-paper bag. I did not dare look at its contents until I was safely off the tennis court and in the car. Now I looked into the bag. My vision began to blur and my eyes swim. Under some of my forgotten night clothes laid my homecoming mum. All these items had been left at my best friend Katie's house.
"Are you ok, Kara" my mom asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Once safely inside, I ran to my room and threw myself on my bed. The sobs would not hold themselves inside any longer. I could not hold myself together anymore. I buried my face in the pillows and let out all the sadness, anger, feelings of injustice, betrayal, and hurt. How could Katie stop being my friend? We were inseparable. We played tennis together, had the same private instructor, had sleepovers almost every weekend--we did everything together. As a shy individual, I really only needed Katie. I loved having one best friend and some acquaintances.
The break-up began to show its cracks when Katie's boyfriend of four months wanted more and more of her time. It started in about January of our freshman year. The distancing, ignoring, and irritation at my growing distaste for the boyfriend she "loved." She would ignore me at assemblies and sit with Josh. She hung out with him on the weekends. She walked with him in the hallways. Every second he was there. I felt suffocated. Sometimes I just wanted to scream and say "I want to hangout with my best friend without you there!"
I began to voice my distasteful opinions about him. Bad idea. Katie told Josh everything I thought about him. Wasn't I supposed to be able to trust my best friend?
By May, the break was complete. That's why after my private tennis lesson and at the beginning of hers, Katie gave me back my stuff. She did not want to see me again. My heart broke.
Our freshman class was being split in half because the high school was having half of the inhabitants be redistricted to the new high school. This meant Josh was leaving. The small hope I had of Katie and I becoming friends again vanished when I found out she received permission to transfer to the new high school. She transferred to be with Josh. She left me completely to be with him. She convinced the district that it would be bad for her "emotional and psychological health" to be separated from him. Pathetic. That's what I thought it was, pathetic.
My fear of abandonment and losing people I cared about resurfaced. After losing people when I turned eleven I struggled with that. Losing Katie made me realize "you can't put all your eggs in one basket," as my mom says. I learned to try to put aside my shyness and make many friends.
Since then, Katie and I have reconciled. We rarely talk since high school, but are still on good terms. Her and Josh broke up two months into going to the same school. We both learned a lot through those experiences. No matter how painful, she taught me a valuable lesson.
"Are you ok, Kara" my mom asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Once safely inside, I ran to my room and threw myself on my bed. The sobs would not hold themselves inside any longer. I could not hold myself together anymore. I buried my face in the pillows and let out all the sadness, anger, feelings of injustice, betrayal, and hurt. How could Katie stop being my friend? We were inseparable. We played tennis together, had the same private instructor, had sleepovers almost every weekend--we did everything together. As a shy individual, I really only needed Katie. I loved having one best friend and some acquaintances.
The break-up began to show its cracks when Katie's boyfriend of four months wanted more and more of her time. It started in about January of our freshman year. The distancing, ignoring, and irritation at my growing distaste for the boyfriend she "loved." She would ignore me at assemblies and sit with Josh. She hung out with him on the weekends. She walked with him in the hallways. Every second he was there. I felt suffocated. Sometimes I just wanted to scream and say "I want to hangout with my best friend without you there!"
I began to voice my distasteful opinions about him. Bad idea. Katie told Josh everything I thought about him. Wasn't I supposed to be able to trust my best friend?
By May, the break was complete. That's why after my private tennis lesson and at the beginning of hers, Katie gave me back my stuff. She did not want to see me again. My heart broke.
Our freshman class was being split in half because the high school was having half of the inhabitants be redistricted to the new high school. This meant Josh was leaving. The small hope I had of Katie and I becoming friends again vanished when I found out she received permission to transfer to the new high school. She transferred to be with Josh. She left me completely to be with him. She convinced the district that it would be bad for her "emotional and psychological health" to be separated from him. Pathetic. That's what I thought it was, pathetic.
My fear of abandonment and losing people I cared about resurfaced. After losing people when I turned eleven I struggled with that. Losing Katie made me realize "you can't put all your eggs in one basket," as my mom says. I learned to try to put aside my shyness and make many friends.
Since then, Katie and I have reconciled. We rarely talk since high school, but are still on good terms. Her and Josh broke up two months into going to the same school. We both learned a lot through those experiences. No matter how painful, she taught me a valuable lesson.
About A Boy
I sat there eating my lunch quietly. I just stared. He had the biggest blue eyes I ever saw. He was tall and lanky. I had seen him around school a lot and he went to my new church. At 13, he was my first big crush. In middle school, I was quiet and reserved. After the shock of being transferred from homeschooling to public school in 6th grade, I did not talk much. I did not talk to boys. I barely talked to girls. It is a miracle I had friends. My few friends came from being neighbors with half of them.
In the spring of 8th grade, adolescence bloomed and I started to take notice of this boy. We will say his name is Roger. I remember sitting at the long, dark blue and gray flecked lunch table and thinking "I'm gonna date that boy." Strange, I know. Blame it on the awkward phase.
Fast forward four years later. It is 2010 and we are both seniors in high school. Roger and I ended up hanging out and "dating" at the beginning of 9th grade for 3 months. Then in the spring of 9th grade for 2 months. Then the spring of 10th grade for 1 month. We went through phases of having crushes on each other, to hating each other, to finally being best friends. If you asked me to explain how this happened I would not be able to tell you. Roger and I just somehow always ended up being a part of each others' lives.
Being best friends with Roger was great. He is still one of the few people that knows me like the back of their hand. He could be exasperating at times, but ultimately he was my best friend. I could be mad at him, but no one else was allowed to.
Oblivion is something I live in often when it comes to the opposite gender. Throughout Junior and Senior year of high school people told me Roger liked me. I blew off their remarks. I had a long-term boyfriend, who was an idiot, but I was too googly-eyed to notice.
Spring semester of Senior year I finally broke up with my silly boyfriend of 14 months. The first person I turned to was Roger. A lot of other things began to fall a part in my life at the same time. Roger broke up with his girlfriend two weeks later. We began to hang out frequently. Our parents were close and we just clicked. It was easy being around Roger. I could tell him anything.
Some nights we just sat by a lake close by and talked. We talked about college, hopes, dreams, aspirations, beliefs. I felt safe with Roger. Roger began to disclose his feelings for me. I reciprocated. I was really happy that summer. But practical Kara knew I could not go into college with a fresh relationship. I broke it off at the end of the summer. Maybe it was cold. I just thought it was best for both of us. I knew he had to find himself and I had to find myself.
I went through a brief, unstable relationship at the beginning of college. When Roger found out I think it really hurt him. I did not mean to, but I was naive. I became defensive. It wasn't like he went to college and made the best choices. I still don't think he knows how hearing about his college experiences affected me. He changed. I changed.
Roger now has been dating a girl for 1 1/2 years. But at breaks when we hang out, the same feelings resurface. After he re-confessed his love for me this past summer despite still being in a relationship, I knew something had to change. I could not sleep with a clean conscious if I knew just by contacting my best friend I could be hurting another woman.
I learned I had to let go of something I love. We weren't broken, he didn't do anything mean to me, we just changed. He moved on. I had to let him go. Sometimes I think about calling him. Sometimes I want to text him about funny things or struggles of mine. I can't. He's not available. He's not there. Sometimes I wonder if they broke up if we would start talking again. If we'd become friends and maybe more. I suppress these thoughts because you can't think like that. It is selfish that I wish him unhappiness just so I can have my best friend back. It won't ever be the same. Learning to let go for someone else's happiness is hard. I still struggle with not saying I like him just so I can have him back. Deep down I know he would drop everything to be with me. But that is wrong. I don't deserve him. I had my chance.
I miss him a lot. Things will never be the same between him and I. Honestly, I do not know when I will even see him again. We're growing up and changing, but we will always have that summer.
In the spring of 8th grade, adolescence bloomed and I started to take notice of this boy. We will say his name is Roger. I remember sitting at the long, dark blue and gray flecked lunch table and thinking "I'm gonna date that boy." Strange, I know. Blame it on the awkward phase.
Fast forward four years later. It is 2010 and we are both seniors in high school. Roger and I ended up hanging out and "dating" at the beginning of 9th grade for 3 months. Then in the spring of 9th grade for 2 months. Then the spring of 10th grade for 1 month. We went through phases of having crushes on each other, to hating each other, to finally being best friends. If you asked me to explain how this happened I would not be able to tell you. Roger and I just somehow always ended up being a part of each others' lives.
Being best friends with Roger was great. He is still one of the few people that knows me like the back of their hand. He could be exasperating at times, but ultimately he was my best friend. I could be mad at him, but no one else was allowed to.
Oblivion is something I live in often when it comes to the opposite gender. Throughout Junior and Senior year of high school people told me Roger liked me. I blew off their remarks. I had a long-term boyfriend, who was an idiot, but I was too googly-eyed to notice.
Spring semester of Senior year I finally broke up with my silly boyfriend of 14 months. The first person I turned to was Roger. A lot of other things began to fall a part in my life at the same time. Roger broke up with his girlfriend two weeks later. We began to hang out frequently. Our parents were close and we just clicked. It was easy being around Roger. I could tell him anything.
Some nights we just sat by a lake close by and talked. We talked about college, hopes, dreams, aspirations, beliefs. I felt safe with Roger. Roger began to disclose his feelings for me. I reciprocated. I was really happy that summer. But practical Kara knew I could not go into college with a fresh relationship. I broke it off at the end of the summer. Maybe it was cold. I just thought it was best for both of us. I knew he had to find himself and I had to find myself.
I went through a brief, unstable relationship at the beginning of college. When Roger found out I think it really hurt him. I did not mean to, but I was naive. I became defensive. It wasn't like he went to college and made the best choices. I still don't think he knows how hearing about his college experiences affected me. He changed. I changed.
Roger now has been dating a girl for 1 1/2 years. But at breaks when we hang out, the same feelings resurface. After he re-confessed his love for me this past summer despite still being in a relationship, I knew something had to change. I could not sleep with a clean conscious if I knew just by contacting my best friend I could be hurting another woman.
I learned I had to let go of something I love. We weren't broken, he didn't do anything mean to me, we just changed. He moved on. I had to let him go. Sometimes I think about calling him. Sometimes I want to text him about funny things or struggles of mine. I can't. He's not available. He's not there. Sometimes I wonder if they broke up if we would start talking again. If we'd become friends and maybe more. I suppress these thoughts because you can't think like that. It is selfish that I wish him unhappiness just so I can have my best friend back. It won't ever be the same. Learning to let go for someone else's happiness is hard. I still struggle with not saying I like him just so I can have him back. Deep down I know he would drop everything to be with me. But that is wrong. I don't deserve him. I had my chance.
I miss him a lot. Things will never be the same between him and I. Honestly, I do not know when I will even see him again. We're growing up and changing, but we will always have that summer.
Conversation Partner: Meeting #5
Today, WeiRan brought both Simon and Chris to our meeting. The conversation began with Simon talking about his dog. Apparently, his roommate sold the dog to their neighbor; however, their neighbor bought the dog while intoxicated and did not remember buying the dog in the morning. Simon said his neighbor woke up in the morning and could not figure out why their dog stood in his room. Simon's roommate had to explain to him why the dog slept at the neighbors house. After sobering up, the neighbor decided he no longer wanted the dog and returned the dog to its original home--the farm. When Simon told me this I became sad. Simon saw it all over my face. When they said farm, I thought they meant the dog would be euthanized. Isn't that what every parent tells their child when an animal dies? "It's ok, honey, your dog, Lulu, is just at a farm!" Simon quickly explained to me that the dog would be ok and now stayed with its original parents. I accepted this explanation and the conversation moved forward.
Next, WeiRan showed me the new book he must read: The War Horse. I tried to encourage him and say it would be a good read, but I do not think he believes me. WeiRan hates reading. He only likes math and science. He mentioned how he just wanted to read a book about chemicals or math. WeiRan does not see the point in reading. I explained to him that reading is important because no matter how smart you are with numbers or chemicals, if you cannot express your ideas in language, then no one will be able to share your knowledge. If you cannot express your ideas, you cannot hold a job. WeiRan agreed with this explanation, however, I think he still hates reading.
The conversation briefly moved to movies. They told me that Titanic is a classic in China. I tried to talk about other movies, such as Avatar since it is by the same director, but they became lost on them. Talking about movies and books with them is hard. The titles of movies and books do not translate well into Chinese.
Then, they showed me apps on their phone. Apparently there is an app for iPhone's that allows you to shake your phone and see who else is shaking their phone. I do not understand this app... They made jokes that Chris did it to find new girls. I think Chris really wants a girlfriend. They make jokes that he tries to find girls online. I got a good laugh out of this. After these jokes other jokes followed, but only spoken in Chinese. I became extremely confused. WeiRan just said "they are bad boys and making dirty jokes. I am a good boy. I do not make dirty jokes." I decided I did not want to know what they talked about in Chinese. One thing that is the same cross-culturally is boys love for dirty jokes. I guess I cannot blame them, that is just how they are wired.
While being left out of the jokes, I looked up and saw a girl in my sorority walk in the door. I smiled and said hi. I tried to explain to them what a sorority was. I cut the sisterhood mumbo jumbo and decided to classify it as a "social club." They understood. Simon said that could not happen in Chinese colleges because they are poor colleges and kids are not allowed to have events. I think they find sorority and fraternity life frivolous. Simon would probably be the most on board. He finds social life a key part of his well-being. WeiRan and Chris were raised to believe education the most important thing. Simon believes a good balance of friendships and education is the perfect mix. I agree with that statement.
Our conversation began to dwindle and I had to leave to complete other school work. We agreed upon meeting next week. WeiRan, I believe, is looking forward to next week because our meeting means school is almost over. He is homesick, poor guy.
Next, WeiRan showed me the new book he must read: The War Horse. I tried to encourage him and say it would be a good read, but I do not think he believes me. WeiRan hates reading. He only likes math and science. He mentioned how he just wanted to read a book about chemicals or math. WeiRan does not see the point in reading. I explained to him that reading is important because no matter how smart you are with numbers or chemicals, if you cannot express your ideas in language, then no one will be able to share your knowledge. If you cannot express your ideas, you cannot hold a job. WeiRan agreed with this explanation, however, I think he still hates reading.
The conversation briefly moved to movies. They told me that Titanic is a classic in China. I tried to talk about other movies, such as Avatar since it is by the same director, but they became lost on them. Talking about movies and books with them is hard. The titles of movies and books do not translate well into Chinese.
Then, they showed me apps on their phone. Apparently there is an app for iPhone's that allows you to shake your phone and see who else is shaking their phone. I do not understand this app... They made jokes that Chris did it to find new girls. I think Chris really wants a girlfriend. They make jokes that he tries to find girls online. I got a good laugh out of this. After these jokes other jokes followed, but only spoken in Chinese. I became extremely confused. WeiRan just said "they are bad boys and making dirty jokes. I am a good boy. I do not make dirty jokes." I decided I did not want to know what they talked about in Chinese. One thing that is the same cross-culturally is boys love for dirty jokes. I guess I cannot blame them, that is just how they are wired.
While being left out of the jokes, I looked up and saw a girl in my sorority walk in the door. I smiled and said hi. I tried to explain to them what a sorority was. I cut the sisterhood mumbo jumbo and decided to classify it as a "social club." They understood. Simon said that could not happen in Chinese colleges because they are poor colleges and kids are not allowed to have events. I think they find sorority and fraternity life frivolous. Simon would probably be the most on board. He finds social life a key part of his well-being. WeiRan and Chris were raised to believe education the most important thing. Simon believes a good balance of friendships and education is the perfect mix. I agree with that statement.
Our conversation began to dwindle and I had to leave to complete other school work. We agreed upon meeting next week. WeiRan, I believe, is looking forward to next week because our meeting means school is almost over. He is homesick, poor guy.
Time: Vol. 83 No. 1 January 3, 1964
America's coming of age story is an interesting one. In 1776 we declared our independence from Britain. As a young nation, coming of age happens in rapid succession, especially on the stand of human equality. This began with the Civil War in 1861. The emancipation proclamation followed, but no true equality. In 1964 racial equality issues thickened in the minds of every American with the Civil Rights Movement.
In 1964, 9 years after the beginning of the Civil Rights Movement, Time magazine took a big stand in favor of equality. Time magazine in January of 1964 dubbed Martin Luther King, Jr. "Man of the Year." Times did an entire write up on not only King, but his family and other reputable African Americans. African Americans that were teachers, architects, state senators, bishops, surgeons, etc. America grew up, came of age, made changes, became better.
Like any coming of age story, the article did not mean the end of the process, but merely a huge step in the right direction. The Civil Rights lasted four more years, but the bulk of the growing pains ceased in 1964. I don't think any American in 1776 thought an African American would make the front page of a magazine. Life changed for Americans.
Now racial prejudices still exist, but mostly in the older population of America. Whites are free to marry Blacks without prejudice, they can hold corporate jobs, vote, eat in the same restaurant, ride at the front of the bus, go to any school, receive a college education without racism, and even become president. King said he "had a dream" of equality. I like to think his dream came true. The growing pains of racism may always exist due to the imperfection of humanity, but most prejudice is gone.
As America enters into its adulthood, we have become mature in equality. Martin Luther King, Jr. assisted in this transition as did Times magazine. Time took a stand and joined with the African American community to make a difference. Time showed America's transition from childhood to maturing adults.
In 1964, 9 years after the beginning of the Civil Rights Movement, Time magazine took a big stand in favor of equality. Time magazine in January of 1964 dubbed Martin Luther King, Jr. "Man of the Year." Times did an entire write up on not only King, but his family and other reputable African Americans. African Americans that were teachers, architects, state senators, bishops, surgeons, etc. America grew up, came of age, made changes, became better.
Like any coming of age story, the article did not mean the end of the process, but merely a huge step in the right direction. The Civil Rights lasted four more years, but the bulk of the growing pains ceased in 1964. I don't think any American in 1776 thought an African American would make the front page of a magazine. Life changed for Americans.
Now racial prejudices still exist, but mostly in the older population of America. Whites are free to marry Blacks without prejudice, they can hold corporate jobs, vote, eat in the same restaurant, ride at the front of the bus, go to any school, receive a college education without racism, and even become president. King said he "had a dream" of equality. I like to think his dream came true. The growing pains of racism may always exist due to the imperfection of humanity, but most prejudice is gone.
As America enters into its adulthood, we have become mature in equality. Martin Luther King, Jr. assisted in this transition as did Times magazine. Time took a stand and joined with the African American community to make a difference. Time showed America's transition from childhood to maturing adults.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
The House on Mango Street
I love this book. I love how it shows me a whole different culture--a whole different way of life. I relate to some aspects of the book and feel intrigued by others. The ambiguity of the disjointed vignettes create an atmosphere of creativity and mystery. It felt like a puzzle I pieced together. It is like a puzzle that each reader pieces together, but in a different way every time. Every reader comes to the same conclusion for the plot, but the holes are filled by each readers imagination. That takes talent.
Relating to Esperanza may be easier for myself than some of the class because I am a female as well. Some of her experiences are experiences that every girl has. Playing dress-up, running around outside, refusing to grow up, the first time you have a crush, etc. Being able to relate to a storing makes it more interesting.
Also, the format of the story reminds me of how I think. I am a scatterbrain. If someone lived inside my head they would feel like they are on a crazy roller coaster going 80mph with twists and turns everywhere. I do not think there is a human being alive that can follow my thought processes. Relating to her writing style makes me feel connected to Sandra Cisneros. Her amazing talent to put together a puzzle before your eyes is impressive.
Another part of the book I enjoy is being connected to her culture. I find learning about other cultures intriguing. Growing up, my mother told me stories about my Native American heritage. Her grandmother had many mystical beliefs that the white man never purged from the Indians. They passed them down through generations. Now my mother tells me the silly stories and beliefs. They sound funny now, but I still like hearing them because that is a part of my heritage. For this reason, I love hearing about other people's cultures, even if they are "out of date." Sandra Cisneros's desire to pass down her heritage is beautiful. There's the saying, "you don't know where you're going until you know where you've been." She embraces this by sharing her culture in the past as well as Esperanza's view of the current Mexican culture.
During class we discussed Sandra Cisneros's original dream to be a poet. I found it ironic because the whole time I read the book it reminded me of poems and the ambiguity of their meaning. I enjoy reading some poems because of the challenge of figuring them out. I face the same challenge when I read The House on Mango Street. I love trying to piece together all the vignettes.
Overall, The House on Mango Street is one of my favorite stories. It is a real and colorful portrayal of one girls coming of age story. She embraces her heritage and makes some rules of her own.
Relating to Esperanza may be easier for myself than some of the class because I am a female as well. Some of her experiences are experiences that every girl has. Playing dress-up, running around outside, refusing to grow up, the first time you have a crush, etc. Being able to relate to a storing makes it more interesting.
Also, the format of the story reminds me of how I think. I am a scatterbrain. If someone lived inside my head they would feel like they are on a crazy roller coaster going 80mph with twists and turns everywhere. I do not think there is a human being alive that can follow my thought processes. Relating to her writing style makes me feel connected to Sandra Cisneros. Her amazing talent to put together a puzzle before your eyes is impressive.
Another part of the book I enjoy is being connected to her culture. I find learning about other cultures intriguing. Growing up, my mother told me stories about my Native American heritage. Her grandmother had many mystical beliefs that the white man never purged from the Indians. They passed them down through generations. Now my mother tells me the silly stories and beliefs. They sound funny now, but I still like hearing them because that is a part of my heritage. For this reason, I love hearing about other people's cultures, even if they are "out of date." Sandra Cisneros's desire to pass down her heritage is beautiful. There's the saying, "you don't know where you're going until you know where you've been." She embraces this by sharing her culture in the past as well as Esperanza's view of the current Mexican culture.
During class we discussed Sandra Cisneros's original dream to be a poet. I found it ironic because the whole time I read the book it reminded me of poems and the ambiguity of their meaning. I enjoy reading some poems because of the challenge of figuring them out. I face the same challenge when I read The House on Mango Street. I love trying to piece together all the vignettes.
Overall, The House on Mango Street is one of my favorite stories. It is a real and colorful portrayal of one girls coming of age story. She embraces her heritage and makes some rules of her own.
Conversation Partner: Meeting #4
Today, WeiRan and I met at the bookstore to talk. Originally we were to meet on Tuesday, but he had an emergency. The minute I got the email saying he had an emergency I became concerned, but suspicious as well. WeiRan's emergencies usually mean he made other plans and forgot we were supposed to meet. Today when I met him, my suspicions were justified. He had gone to Dallas.
WeiRan has a love for Dallas that I will never understand. He thinks Dallas is a wonderful city. Fort Worth pales in comparison to Dallas. He looked nervous when he told me his real "emergency." He said "I forgot I told my friend two weeks before that I would go with him." I chuckled to myself. Why would I be mad he went to Dallas? I am no teacher. His obligations to meeting me are minor.
Our subject turned to school. He became nervous that TCU would be hard once he got in. I reassured him that it is challenging, but he would do well. He's a smart kid. He just hates English. He skipped his class twice this week. He says he stays up until 4:00 a.m. playing a spaceship game on the computer with his roommate, Chris. I'm dumbfounded. He says his reason is he does not like being on American time. He stays on Chinese time, which is why he is too tired to make it to all of his classes.
I began to question WeiRan on how his parents would react if he did not pass the course. He shrugged, "I do not know." Maybe it's my own expectations, but I assumed he would be a driven student. WeiRan's apathetic responses confuse me. I wonder if it is because he does not look forward to the career his father has chosen for him. He does not want to be an engineer. If I had my life planned out for me by my father I probably would not be driven, either.
The conversation moves back to California. WeiRan and his roommate, Chris, wanted to move to San Francisco, but not anymore. He explained that two Chinese people were recently murdered. Now he considers San Francisco too dangerous. TCU appears to be his home for the next 6 years or so. I think he likes it here, but is homesick. He began to talk about his excitement to return home. "What is the first thing you will do when you get home" I asked. He said hanging out with his friends. He brightened up at the thought of being back in Shanghai. I would be extremely homesick, as well, if I lived in another country.
Next, we discussed his prospects if he graduated with a degree from TCU. I tried to tell him about how we are a selective university with great colleges, but it did not translate well. I kept trying to explain it to him, but with few results. We finally gave up on trying to understand each other upon the subject.
The conversation began to dwindle. Plus, I needed to take my car to get inspected. It is not smart to have a 3-month expired inspection sticker. We parted ways and agreed to meet again next week.
WeiRan has a love for Dallas that I will never understand. He thinks Dallas is a wonderful city. Fort Worth pales in comparison to Dallas. He looked nervous when he told me his real "emergency." He said "I forgot I told my friend two weeks before that I would go with him." I chuckled to myself. Why would I be mad he went to Dallas? I am no teacher. His obligations to meeting me are minor.
Our subject turned to school. He became nervous that TCU would be hard once he got in. I reassured him that it is challenging, but he would do well. He's a smart kid. He just hates English. He skipped his class twice this week. He says he stays up until 4:00 a.m. playing a spaceship game on the computer with his roommate, Chris. I'm dumbfounded. He says his reason is he does not like being on American time. He stays on Chinese time, which is why he is too tired to make it to all of his classes.
I began to question WeiRan on how his parents would react if he did not pass the course. He shrugged, "I do not know." Maybe it's my own expectations, but I assumed he would be a driven student. WeiRan's apathetic responses confuse me. I wonder if it is because he does not look forward to the career his father has chosen for him. He does not want to be an engineer. If I had my life planned out for me by my father I probably would not be driven, either.
The conversation moves back to California. WeiRan and his roommate, Chris, wanted to move to San Francisco, but not anymore. He explained that two Chinese people were recently murdered. Now he considers San Francisco too dangerous. TCU appears to be his home for the next 6 years or so. I think he likes it here, but is homesick. He began to talk about his excitement to return home. "What is the first thing you will do when you get home" I asked. He said hanging out with his friends. He brightened up at the thought of being back in Shanghai. I would be extremely homesick, as well, if I lived in another country.
Next, we discussed his prospects if he graduated with a degree from TCU. I tried to tell him about how we are a selective university with great colleges, but it did not translate well. I kept trying to explain it to him, but with few results. We finally gave up on trying to understand each other upon the subject.
The conversation began to dwindle. Plus, I needed to take my car to get inspected. It is not smart to have a 3-month expired inspection sticker. We parted ways and agreed to meet again next week.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Conversation Partner: Meeting #3
I met with WeiRan the day of the tornado warnings. I swiftly walked into the bookstore with the upcoming storm close on my heels. I saw my friend sitting there and waited with her. Soon the TV warned us of the coming tornados. My phone buzzed with a TCU alert. I no longer thought WeiRan would show up. However, he proves me wrong. WeiRan walked through the door wet and cold. I felt so bad! He still came even though there were tornado warnings!
I began with my usual intro of "how are you" and "how was your weekend?" While we were in the middle of our usual dialogue, I noticed a confused looking guy soaking wet trapesing around the bookstore cafe. I looked up and then WeiRan did as well. He recognized the boy and began to speak to him in Chinese. After the boy left, WeiRan explained to me that he borrowed his umbrella to come meet me. The boy had come running after it! I chuckled to myself and pitied him for braving such an awful storm for his umbrella.
I asked WeiRan if he was worried about the storm. He said he was not worried about a thunderstorm, but that he had never seen one like this. I tried to explain to him what a tornado was and that it is dangerous. He did not think they were dangerous at all! He told me his roommate (who is Jacob, the one that I could not remember his name) blew off their RA's warning to go to the basement. He just shut the door and kept playing his video games. I laughed at this, but still warned WeiRan of the danger of the storm. I tried comparing a tornado to a tsunami, but that did not help either. Honestly, they are completely different storms, but I stooped to grasp for anything just to explain my point. By the end of the conversation, WeiRan still had no idea what a tornado was.
After a long stare at the television to keep tabs on our danger, WeiRan mentioned that his other friend, Simon, got bit by his dog last weekend. He said he got onto him for chewing something up and the dog bit him! I remember Simon talking about his big German Shephard. I told him I was afraid of German Shephards and Simon just laughed at me. I wonder if now he understands why...
Next, WeiRan showed me his phone. He had an extra battery pack attached to the back. It aligned seamlessly with his phone. He said it allows him to only have to charge his phone once a week! Impressive.
Then, he showed me how he changed his phone into Chinese! I enjoyed looking at all the symbols. Chinese looked so interesting and complex.
As the rain began to stop, we turned to other subjects. I still wanted to explain to him what a tornado was. I decided to use an online translator. I thought I was being smart to find the translation for "tornado" in Chinese means "thunderstorm." Fail. I guess I'll have to call in a meteorologist to explain it. Honestly, I don't think I fully understand how tornadoes start. Hurricanes, that's a different story. I have been avoiding those in Houston for almost all of my life.
With the sky dry, I said my goodbyes and gave WeiRan an opportunity to run home without getting drenched. I really enjoyed talking to him even if I am an awful translator. He laughs off the silly things I do. I'm glad he has a good sense of humor.
I began with my usual intro of "how are you" and "how was your weekend?" While we were in the middle of our usual dialogue, I noticed a confused looking guy soaking wet trapesing around the bookstore cafe. I looked up and then WeiRan did as well. He recognized the boy and began to speak to him in Chinese. After the boy left, WeiRan explained to me that he borrowed his umbrella to come meet me. The boy had come running after it! I chuckled to myself and pitied him for braving such an awful storm for his umbrella.
I asked WeiRan if he was worried about the storm. He said he was not worried about a thunderstorm, but that he had never seen one like this. I tried to explain to him what a tornado was and that it is dangerous. He did not think they were dangerous at all! He told me his roommate (who is Jacob, the one that I could not remember his name) blew off their RA's warning to go to the basement. He just shut the door and kept playing his video games. I laughed at this, but still warned WeiRan of the danger of the storm. I tried comparing a tornado to a tsunami, but that did not help either. Honestly, they are completely different storms, but I stooped to grasp for anything just to explain my point. By the end of the conversation, WeiRan still had no idea what a tornado was.
After a long stare at the television to keep tabs on our danger, WeiRan mentioned that his other friend, Simon, got bit by his dog last weekend. He said he got onto him for chewing something up and the dog bit him! I remember Simon talking about his big German Shephard. I told him I was afraid of German Shephards and Simon just laughed at me. I wonder if now he understands why...
Next, WeiRan showed me his phone. He had an extra battery pack attached to the back. It aligned seamlessly with his phone. He said it allows him to only have to charge his phone once a week! Impressive.
Then, he showed me how he changed his phone into Chinese! I enjoyed looking at all the symbols. Chinese looked so interesting and complex.
As the rain began to stop, we turned to other subjects. I still wanted to explain to him what a tornado was. I decided to use an online translator. I thought I was being smart to find the translation for "tornado" in Chinese means "thunderstorm." Fail. I guess I'll have to call in a meteorologist to explain it. Honestly, I don't think I fully understand how tornadoes start. Hurricanes, that's a different story. I have been avoiding those in Houston for almost all of my life.
With the sky dry, I said my goodbyes and gave WeiRan an opportunity to run home without getting drenched. I really enjoyed talking to him even if I am an awful translator. He laughs off the silly things I do. I'm glad he has a good sense of humor.
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