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| As a child, I didn't learn about racism because of my own actions or words. In fact, I don't think any child is born with the idea of racism already inside of them. Children have unconditional acceptance for others. Color isn't a factor. The beautiful thing about young children is that, in a sense, all are blind to the idea that a person can be inadequate or less-than-human because of their appearance. They can play together on the playground without even thinking twice about the color of someone else. What does it matter to them? Skin is skin is skin. People gain the false idea of someone being incompetent because of their color or beliefs from outside influences - parents, peers, teachers, even the society as a whole. At some point in your life, in my life, someone told us that someone (or even we) couldn't complete a task or play a sport or be completely human because of their (our) skin color.
I think it's the same for a blind person. At some point in a blind person's life, someone told them that someone couldn't complete a task or play a sport or be completely human because of their skin color. Especially at a young age, when these things are repeated in a young child's life, it often, unfortunately, becomes part of their own belief system.
So whether my child was blind or had perfect eyesight, someday, they'd come home from school or the playground or the restaurant and ask me why that big man or that short lady or that voice said that someone was inadequate because of their skin color. I'd have to explain to them about a silly thing called racism. I'd explain to them that wherever there is a chance for someone to have the upper hand against someone else, human-created inequality exists. I'd explain that racism isn't an issue everywhere - in other countries, the problem is social class. Or possessions. Or speech. Or religion.
If my child was blind, they'd think it to be even more ridiculous than a child who wasn't. What a beautiful thing! For there to be different skin colors on different people! Oh, how I would love to be different! How I would love to see different! How could color diversify? It's what makes us beautiful!
But then I'd tell them they never have to be limited by any of that. You can be all that you choose to be. Whether you're blue, blind, black, or bladderless, you never have to live by peoples' expectations of who they think you can be. You are your own person. And no one call tell you different.
Now go get 'em tiger. There's some world ready for change. I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too! | | |
| There's still good people left in the world!
Like the women with large bow ties and beautiful faces at the candy kiosk or the hippie man with long hair and smiling eyes at the incense booth.
Honestly, though, when you're uncharacteristically polite and nice to people, it seems like the tendency is for them to respond in the same way. I've seen the pleasant side of people who others loathe by doing that.
It's infectious. Spread it. Make the effort to see the good in people. Make the world a better place.
*NOTE: When I looked over what I wrote, I'd written "incest" instead of "incense." Whoops. | | |
| I've come to the realization that... I really don't want to get old. Dying's not a problem. Bring it on. But getting old? I think I'll pass...
I was walking through the church during lunch to sit at the cafe (and if you didn't know, my school's connected to a church with a classy little cafe that's nice for drinking coffee and... participating in other cafe activities) when I passed a room full of old people. I looked out the far window of the room to see a bus that said "Retirement Home." So these people are pretty old.
They all looked very idle like they didn't really know what to talk about. Being old looks like one, big awkward moment. I overheard some of them talking and all they talked about was the "good ol' days." But what happens when you've told all the great stories from the "good ol' days"? It's not like there's a lot of grand adventures ahead of you. You're pretty much done. There's not too much character development waiting for you. Sounds like a lot of time thinking about the past and remembering but not that much time making memories instead.
When it's time for Christmas or birthday, what kind of gifts can you expect to get? Maybe your bi-annual new shirt. Your first new pair of jeans in five years. A pipe.
Actually, a pipe sounds pretty cool.
But besides that, I'm not looking forward to making my monthly trip to the grocery store for beans, pork rinds, and Depends. Not to say I want to be an old person who tries to hard to be young and do "young things." I'd rather just die.
What do you think? Die young and live, or die old and die? | | |
| The masses forgot about you. The church forgot about you. Even I forgot about you. It's actually quite ironic that we cut down the same creatures that we're called to give our lives to. We go to the building, we lift our holy hands, and we think about what we're going to eat for lunch until the speaker you've chosen stops talking. Then we go out and eat what we thought about eating. We eat at the best Greek restaurant in town, we eat the spicy, scented falafel (the gyros happen to be more savory than usual with grease dripping off of the roasted animal), and we forget what the man in the pulpit praught, even though we say it was his best sermon yet. Then we correct each other and say "preached." We go to coffee houses and drink hot coffee. The coffee's too hot, so sometimes we curse. We laugh. Then we talk about all the problems with the church nowadays. We leave the coffee house, we promise to hook up later, but we forget to hook up with you. And the problems are still pertinent. It's okay, though, because you can't expect too much from us anyway. This is the 21st century. Sure, you created the universe, you added color to our lives where we only felt gray, you gave us a reason to live outside of the habitual lifestyle we'd have lived in otherwise, but honestly - we've got better things to do.
--- Creative free verse assignment for English Composition. November 30, 2007.
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| I am convinced that I have come up with a new medical theory that could change the way we look at the human body forever.
For decades, scientists and medical researchers alike have pondered over the use of the appendix, but to no avail. However, I believe that I have found out what the appendix actually serves as.
It is our second stomach.
Because yesterday, while being surrounded by good company on Thanksgiving Day, I stuffed my face, just like any other patriotic American would (and as I'm sure you did as well). I even stuffed myself to the point where I had no room for dessert.
HOWEVER, only minutes after dinner, me and a couple family members went out to go see Dan in Real Life (for the first time that day) at Colonial Village. My aunt offered to buy me soda and popcorn and of course, I complied.
This is where the appendix bit comes in. If you'll remember, I stuffed my face at the Thanksgiving table. I really did. But as soon as the movie started, I hounded down on movie popcorn and soda as if I hadn't eaten all day. And I didn't feel sick afterwards. So that is why I am convinced that we in fact, have two stomachs instead of one.
One for food. And one for movie popcorn.
Kind of like this diagram. Except for the extra head. And for me, the lack of female genitalia. | | |
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