She just simply opened up the broken white dresser drawers and quickly sifted through what she wanted to take with her. I stood quietly by the bed staring at her blankly, offering her help every now and again. I stood there numbly, I could not believe this was actually happening; my identical twin sister, older than me by one twenty minutes, was leaving me after nineteen years. Nineteen years of us being one unit, best friends, and confidants, she was going to be living with her best friend. Four days before, she made the rash decision to move out on account of her wanting to live her life without being questioned by our parents. Some may say it is a normal phase to go through at our age but I just could not understand. I knew her decision was hers alone and based on her own thoughts and formulated ideas, but I took it personally. I wondered if she didn’t like me anymore. What had I done so wrong that she couldn’t deal with anymore?
I stayed strong and did not cry (of course I had been crying my eyes out for four days at work, on my lunch breaks, or randomly in the bathroom), but did not try to make small talk with her, I knew I would start crying immediately if I did. What was there to say? I missed her already and she hadn’t even left yet. Just the thought of her sleeping in the same house with her best friend, sharing late night talks with her, playing with her hair to make her fall asleep, depressed me. The physical me was standing slumped against my bed observing her move around the room quickly, carelessly throwing things in her garbage bag, but the inner me was clinging to her leg asking her to stay and crying violently. The inner me was pathetic, she wailed and pounded her fists on the floor begging her not to leave, but she was invisible to her. She didn’t even acknowledge my pain; she stepped over it just as she had done to the torn piece of paper from the soap on the floor. She lifted the large garbage bag onto the shopping cart in order to roll it to where she was going to be living ten blocks away.
“She’s done,” I thought. I struggled to find ways to keep her in the room for five more minutes, maybe she’d realize what a big mistake this was going to be and want to stay, but I came up with nothing to say except “I am going to miss you” and “I love you” in between a small cracking voice. She repeated the same words to me which began the natural disaster now forming on my face; there was rain, at times heavy, and lots of wind. I squeezed my eyes tightly together to perhaps calm the storm but I failed at every attempt. Thoughts raced through my mind; I would not be able to come home and tell her about how my day went, I won’t be able to tell her about boy troubles, or my first day of school, but even simpler than that I would not be able to make her laugh. It was a keen felt ability. I made the best jokes and she could count on me to find a roar of laughter in her that no one else could; now I would not be able to complete the only duty I was successful at.
She stood behind the shopping cart ready to leave when she just stopped and stared at me. I gave her a half smile and chuckled a little bit before more tears formed, and even more gasps for air. She opened her arms to me asking for one last embrace. I felt my knees ready to buckle and my legs shook as I walked the four steps to her. I hugged her, held her for a few seconds and felt the uncertainty in her as she squeezed me longer. We were closer than most sisters; twins have a different bond than other siblings. With Lea I could tell her anything. Things people would normally feel strange telling their spouses or doctor; my sister and I talked about without fear. We spoke about our family while I lay on her lap and she stroked my hair usually coming to the same conclusion about them: they’re all crazy but we still love them! We spoke about sex and the positives and negatives of it and how it made us feel about people in general. Once she left, I would be in my room, alone for most of the day. I did not know how I was going to do it. Just thinking about it drove me crazy.
For the past four days I thought she would have changed her mind, realize that even though we had a meddlesome family and most times demanding, she would know that all of it was done out of love and that she could not live without us, or most importantly, me. I did not want to let go of her but eventually I pulled away, she wiped her face with both hands and said “I’m glad I didn’t try and put make-up on today,” she laughed a little bit and I gave her a quivering smile. I helped her push the shopping cart through the door and closed it. The room was quiet except for the sound of the shopping cart in the hallway and around the corner until the sound eventually faded away. I sat on the bed and looked in the bathroom, the light was still on. The room was in disarray; drawers opened clothes everywhere, Lea even left her IPod. I quickly texted her and told her she had left it and to come back to get it along with the charger to her phone. As she was on her way back home to get her things I recorded a message on her iPod for her. I told her that she was my best friend, that I loved her so much and to not forget about me. I told her that even though we were going to be apart most of the time that I wanted to know what she was up to and how her life was going. I also said that I was going to spend so much time in the room with my mouth closed that my breath was going to stink and that was going to be her fault. I couldn’t resist a joke. She came back to get her things and left and the next time I would see her was three weeks later.
As soon as I saw her standing by the train station I knew she was a different person. She had come down to Brooklyn to pick me up from work. She looked different to me, not only the way she was dressed but her as a person. She smiled at me as I walked towards her and embraced me. I was so happy to see her and I could tell what she needed for the past three weeks was a hug from a person who loved her more than anything in the world. We immediately began to catch up, she told me about things she had done and things she had bought for herself. She seemed distant. She spoke to me as if I were a stranger she was just telling a story to. Perhaps she was trying not to get upset and tried to keep her distance, but it made me feel unimportant.
I went home that day feeling emptier than I had the past three weeks I hadn’t seen her. Every time we saw each other proceeding that day it felt the same. There was a part of me that was ecstatic to see her and talk to her but there was another part that knew I would go home without her to an empty room. It took me a while to get used to having my own room. But after having a roommate, a best friend, a soul mate living with you for nineteen years and even before then in the womb, loneliness was the biggest factor in my day to day life. I would make food enough for two people forgetting that I was only cooking for myself, I would close the door to the bathroom worried I would disturb her in the mornings if I was taking a shower, and I would call out to her if I was showering and forgot to tell her something, even though she was not there. She was not there, and I had to get used to it. I still have to get used to it and it does not get better.
The loss of my sister’s friendship has been the hardest thing I’ve had to come to terms with, and although I know she is not here with me, and wont be there every single time I need her like she was before she moved out, I know that life sometimes throws us curve balls that we may or may not be prepared to deal with. I still yearn for her affection, I still want her to come home and for us to talk until three in the morning, and I still want to come home together- home base. But I know that it is just what it is, a yearn and a want. Slowly it’ll get easier, and I yearn for that day more than anything else.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Homeless to---Public Office?
“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Larry and today as I stand before you I am homeless. I have not eaten today so if you could please spare a penny, quarter, or dollar or even something to eat I would greatly appreciate it,” says the homeless man on the train making his way up and down the aisle. In New York City we experience this many times a day; sometimes every time we ride the train. Now it’s true that before the unfortunate events that led to these people being homeless, most were successful, happy, contributing citizens of society, however, something in their life turned for the worst and caused them to have virtually nothing except their very existence. Sometimes the homeless are given opportunities to work and taken off the street and some are taken off the street and put into the running for public office? No, that can’t be right. Oh but it is!
In Arizona this is exactly what is happening. Three drifters, Benjamin Pearcy, Thomas Meadows and Anthony Goshorn are all candidates recruited by Steve May, the Republican operative who signed these people up to be apart of the Green Party. According to G.O.P Recruits Street People to Run on Green Ticket in Arizona, a New York Times article by Marc Lacey, this is an attack on the Democratic Party. The idea is that if this Green Party is in existence then the Democrats would get less votes; therefore will give Republicans a better chance on winning state votes. But why the concern, Arizona is typically a red state anyway; but republicans want to keep it that way.
Democrats are outraged, as you can imagine. These drifters, who range in ages from twenty to fifty-three, have a bigger and better chance on getting written into the ballots for November and winning primaries and it has Democrats nervous. And why is this a bad idea? They have no prior experience, no idea on how to manage anything in their lives but most importantly, they have no education. Sure they may have “street smarts” but how will that help in the fields they are trying to delve into? Maybe if they witnessed someone getting mugged in an alley that would be useful, not as the overseer of utilities, for example, in Arizona.
The bottom line is that we should not be exploiting people like this to simply reduce the possibility of Democratic votes. I think Arizona needs a reality check and a better plan to clean up their streets, which does not include putting them to serve in government.
For more information on this issue in Arizona please visit:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/07/us/politics/07candidates.html?_r=1&ref=todayspaper
In Arizona this is exactly what is happening. Three drifters, Benjamin Pearcy, Thomas Meadows and Anthony Goshorn are all candidates recruited by Steve May, the Republican operative who signed these people up to be apart of the Green Party. According to G.O.P Recruits Street People to Run on Green Ticket in Arizona, a New York Times article by Marc Lacey, this is an attack on the Democratic Party. The idea is that if this Green Party is in existence then the Democrats would get less votes; therefore will give Republicans a better chance on winning state votes. But why the concern, Arizona is typically a red state anyway; but republicans want to keep it that way.
Democrats are outraged, as you can imagine. These drifters, who range in ages from twenty to fifty-three, have a bigger and better chance on getting written into the ballots for November and winning primaries and it has Democrats nervous. And why is this a bad idea? They have no prior experience, no idea on how to manage anything in their lives but most importantly, they have no education. Sure they may have “street smarts” but how will that help in the fields they are trying to delve into? Maybe if they witnessed someone getting mugged in an alley that would be useful, not as the overseer of utilities, for example, in Arizona.
The bottom line is that we should not be exploiting people like this to simply reduce the possibility of Democratic votes. I think Arizona needs a reality check and a better plan to clean up their streets, which does not include putting them to serve in government.
For more information on this issue in Arizona please visit:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/07/us/politics/07candidates.html?_r=1&ref=todayspaper
Friday, September 3, 2010
Tied up in the Tubes
“its ok Lee, I’ll be waiting for you when you get to the bottom.” The big squeaky tube barely fit around my tiny ten year old wrist as I gave my twin sister one last look. “ok Tash,” she said still preoccupied and half looking at me while talking with the ride monitor. I was nervous too but I had this gnawing yearn to make my big sister(by only twenty minutes) proud of me.
So I set my tube down at the start of the ride and watched the water gush underneath it. “Don’t think about it Tashi-just do it!” I said to myself. I carefully sat my behind on the tube and without warning the ride monitor pushed me down the tube. I immediately felt sickened by the fact that when I got to the bottom of the tallest tube ride at Dorney Park , there was going to be more water-a lot more water, and I didn’t know how to swim! I held on for dear life to my tube and finally made it to the bottom. I was proud of myself but, I didn’t see my sister. As I floated aimlessly on my tube in tiny circles I kept my eyes fixated on the people the tube spit out every two seconds- but no Lee. I panicked, “I gotta save her,” I thought “now if I could only make it to my mother,” (who was waiving me over). “I’m trying mom!” I yelled with a little ten year old sass.
I continued to stare at the careless tubes mouth discarding people as if the were waste. I finally decide to take matters into my own hands and jump off my tube into the water. I could not swim; therefore I was drowning. Water filled my lungs and nostrils as I dipped up and down in the water. “The water didn’t seem this deep when I was floating,” I thought to myself every time I sank one more time. I waived my hands in a panic and tried to cry out for help but I was never above water long enough to get any actual sounds out. At this point I thought I was dying and the glistening sun that sparkled on the water was God’s bright light. At least if I have to die I would have died in an honorable way trying to save my sister in a four foot deep pool with lifeguards staring at me nonchalantly.
Finally one of the lifeguards jumped into the water with her red one piece swimsuit and grabbed me by the waist. She dragged me across the pool to my mother without a word. My mother then asked me why I had jumped into the pool if I did not know how to swim, “I had to save Lee, mom,” I said firm and astonished as to why he had asked me that question. Just as I said that Lee walks up to me with her towel wrapped around her tiny body. “Lee you’re ok!” I exclaimed “Lee I almost drowned trying to save you,” I said through laughs. Lee looked at me bewildered, “Tash I came down the tube right after you…I was just watching you try to swim and thought maybe I should ask if you wanted to go on that again it was fun!”
So I set my tube down at the start of the ride and watched the water gush underneath it. “Don’t think about it Tashi-just do it!” I said to myself. I carefully sat my behind on the tube and without warning the ride monitor pushed me down the tube. I immediately felt sickened by the fact that when I got to the bottom of the tallest tube ride at Dorney Park , there was going to be more water-a lot more water, and I didn’t know how to swim! I held on for dear life to my tube and finally made it to the bottom. I was proud of myself but, I didn’t see my sister. As I floated aimlessly on my tube in tiny circles I kept my eyes fixated on the people the tube spit out every two seconds- but no Lee. I panicked, “I gotta save her,” I thought “now if I could only make it to my mother,” (who was waiving me over). “I’m trying mom!” I yelled with a little ten year old sass.
I continued to stare at the careless tubes mouth discarding people as if the were waste. I finally decide to take matters into my own hands and jump off my tube into the water. I could not swim; therefore I was drowning. Water filled my lungs and nostrils as I dipped up and down in the water. “The water didn’t seem this deep when I was floating,” I thought to myself every time I sank one more time. I waived my hands in a panic and tried to cry out for help but I was never above water long enough to get any actual sounds out. At this point I thought I was dying and the glistening sun that sparkled on the water was God’s bright light. At least if I have to die I would have died in an honorable way trying to save my sister in a four foot deep pool with lifeguards staring at me nonchalantly.
Finally one of the lifeguards jumped into the water with her red one piece swimsuit and grabbed me by the waist. She dragged me across the pool to my mother without a word. My mother then asked me why I had jumped into the pool if I did not know how to swim, “I had to save Lee, mom,” I said firm and astonished as to why he had asked me that question. Just as I said that Lee walks up to me with her towel wrapped around her tiny body. “Lee you’re ok!” I exclaimed “Lee I almost drowned trying to save you,” I said through laughs. Lee looked at me bewildered, “Tash I came down the tube right after you…I was just watching you try to swim and thought maybe I should ask if you wanted to go on that again it was fun!”
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Mass Media-- Crossing the line?
In the tenth grade I read a book called 1984 by George Orwell. It was interesting to me to see that “Big Brother” would watch over people in the country and later brainwash them. Also they would have media praising Big Brother and not much else. I could not imagine a world like this but little by little this is occurring without us acknowledging it through our media infringing on our natural born human rights.
Main stream media is a medium designed to reach a large group of people by using television, internet, radio and much more. Their mission is to inform the citizens of this country and be objective without infringing on the rights of humans. The rights of human beings are listed in the Declaration of Independence as article one, two and three. Without these rights we would have prejudice, racism and a lot more consequences.
Article one of the Declaration of Independence says all people should treat one another the way we would like to be treated and not be enslaved. That is, we shouldn’t be forced to do labor against our will without reimbursement. Second article says that everyone has the right to be in this country and accepted despite their age, race, sex, language, political views, and religion. And this is something very prevalent in our everyday life now; we see it in fine print on job applications and tests. And finally the third article says people have the right to live; freedom
to have protection and comfort. So for example we have the right to buy what we need to survive and what we want.
Even though we are given these rights from birth, they aren’t always upheld. There have been so many taboos that now we don’t categorize as taboo that have been being expressed. Some examples of this is when Lou Dobbs talks about deporting every Mexican in the country (even though his wife is Mexican), or when Carlos Mencia makes stereotypes of each ethnicity in this country and calls them derogatory names such as wetbacks, and coons. But aside from this extreme expression of “freedom of speech,” we have the news media.
News media is supposed to be impartial but actually isn’t, according to Global Issues. Media is supposed to help inform people, but underdeveloped and undeveloped countries have various problems. International news is decreasing which is not giving it the attention it deserves. This can be a problem because they aren’t being given the exposure they need and so they aren’t receiving the resources and help they need from other countries.
Another issue of mass media is that journalists’ are threatened to censor their writings and reporting so the news isn’t always accurate. The problem of freer countries such as US is the lack of objective reporting which is because those papers are controlled by elites, or more wealthy people, which they in turn use to how it will ultimately advance them (Shah, 1).
When the news isn’t conveyed properly to the public we don’t get to see the truth. For example, if we didn’t see the effects the war we are in now on television, since it is not directly affecting us we don’t see what is going on. Therefore we won’t be directly affected by it. On the other side of it, when hurricane Katrina hit and we saw how high the water was and how dead bodies were floating on top of the water we were directly bothered by it. Also when Haiti was hit by the earthquake and we saw the devastation that was caused by that we were directly bothered by it.
Ultimately mass media has a lot of influence on how we view certain things. Even when the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001 happened the media indirectly showed us pictures of Muslims in their garb and after being shown that a couple hundred times we began to internalize what a terrorist looked like. Mass media is to blame for this. They show only scary images from the Middle East like the Osama Bin Laden’s videos.
Its almost like we are allowing Big Brother to brainwash us. Mass media is like Big Brother and we are in the country where, even though we sometimes point out flaws in our government, we still censor our comments as well. Too bad we don’t do that where it matters.
Main stream media is a medium designed to reach a large group of people by using television, internet, radio and much more. Their mission is to inform the citizens of this country and be objective without infringing on the rights of humans. The rights of human beings are listed in the Declaration of Independence as article one, two and three. Without these rights we would have prejudice, racism and a lot more consequences.
Article one of the Declaration of Independence says all people should treat one another the way we would like to be treated and not be enslaved. That is, we shouldn’t be forced to do labor against our will without reimbursement. Second article says that everyone has the right to be in this country and accepted despite their age, race, sex, language, political views, and religion. And this is something very prevalent in our everyday life now; we see it in fine print on job applications and tests. And finally the third article says people have the right to live; freedom
to have protection and comfort. So for example we have the right to buy what we need to survive and what we want.
Even though we are given these rights from birth, they aren’t always upheld. There have been so many taboos that now we don’t categorize as taboo that have been being expressed. Some examples of this is when Lou Dobbs talks about deporting every Mexican in the country (even though his wife is Mexican), or when Carlos Mencia makes stereotypes of each ethnicity in this country and calls them derogatory names such as wetbacks, and coons. But aside from this extreme expression of “freedom of speech,” we have the news media.
News media is supposed to be impartial but actually isn’t, according to Global Issues. Media is supposed to help inform people, but underdeveloped and undeveloped countries have various problems. International news is decreasing which is not giving it the attention it deserves. This can be a problem because they aren’t being given the exposure they need and so they aren’t receiving the resources and help they need from other countries.
Another issue of mass media is that journalists’ are threatened to censor their writings and reporting so the news isn’t always accurate. The problem of freer countries such as US is the lack of objective reporting which is because those papers are controlled by elites, or more wealthy people, which they in turn use to how it will ultimately advance them (Shah, 1).
When the news isn’t conveyed properly to the public we don’t get to see the truth. For example, if we didn’t see the effects the war we are in now on television, since it is not directly affecting us we don’t see what is going on. Therefore we won’t be directly affected by it. On the other side of it, when hurricane Katrina hit and we saw how high the water was and how dead bodies were floating on top of the water we were directly bothered by it. Also when Haiti was hit by the earthquake and we saw the devastation that was caused by that we were directly bothered by it.
Ultimately mass media has a lot of influence on how we view certain things. Even when the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001 happened the media indirectly showed us pictures of Muslims in their garb and after being shown that a couple hundred times we began to internalize what a terrorist looked like. Mass media is to blame for this. They show only scary images from the Middle East like the Osama Bin Laden’s videos.
Its almost like we are allowing Big Brother to brainwash us. Mass media is like Big Brother and we are in the country where, even though we sometimes point out flaws in our government, we still censor our comments as well. Too bad we don’t do that where it matters.
Viva Cuba through Literature
In the wake of the Arizona Law recently passed to give authorities the right to racially profile Hispanics, I thought it would be interesting to highlight a couple Cubans who have contributed to the literary world. Two people who have contributed to the United States and the world are Jose Yglesias and Severo Sarduy; both were Cuban immigrants who arrived at this country for a new life and prospered. Not only did they get fame and fortune (the fortune you obtain when you accomplish self fulfilling goals), but they gave us great literary pieces to reference for years, decades, centuries to come.
Jose Yglesias was a Cuban writer born and raised in Ybor City, Florida a section of Tampa where most Cuban immigrants migrate to. In 1937 he served the United States navy during World War two. He studied at Black Mountain College and was the film critic for The Daily Worker. For more than 10 years he was an executive for the pharmaceutical company Merck, Sharp & Dohme.
Jose Yglesias wrote seven novels and four works of non-fiction. Jose Yglesias was known throughout the country for writing A Wake in Ybor City (1973), about Cubans who immigrated to Florida and The Franco Years (1975), a series of interviews, with people who lived in Spain under Francisco Franco's dictatorship.
Yglesias died at the age of seventy five at Beth Israel Hospital in Manhattan of cancer November 1995 of cancer. He was one of the greats of this country’s foreign literature like Ernest Hemmingway and Emily Dickinson. Another great writer, novelist, playwright, and critic was Severo Sarduy.
Severo Sarduy was born in Camaguey, Cuba in February 25, 1937. He went to elementary and high school in Cuba and earned a degree in Bachelors of Arts and Sciences in 1955 at the Institute of Higher Learning. After that he went to Havana to study medicine but was only able to complete a year in school because the dictator at the time Fulgencio Batista closed down the school.
Sarduy was an author and critic. His collection of essays on other Latinoamerican writers is published in his “Esrito sobre un cuerpo.” He also wrote “De donde son los cantantes" in 1967 in mexico which put him on the map as a leading novelist because he was published in the same printing company as Joaquin Mortiz. Sarduy also wrote playwrights like “La playa” and published a poetry book entitled “Big Bang.”
Unfortunately Sarduy died at the age of fifty six of AIDS in a hospital in Paris where he moved in 1959 to study at The School of Louvre. In Paris he wrote for the journal "Tel Quel", where he was influenced by Structuralist and Poststructuralist movements, and formed literary relationships with Francois Wahl and Roland Barthes.
These two literary greats inspired many writers and have inspired me very much as well. They arrived here in the United States for a different opportunity and to make a new life for themselves and contributed much more than just words on a page. They contributed a passion for words on a page and made many people feel that passion as well.
Jose Yglesias was a Cuban writer born and raised in Ybor City, Florida a section of Tampa where most Cuban immigrants migrate to. In 1937 he served the United States navy during World War two. He studied at Black Mountain College and was the film critic for The Daily Worker. For more than 10 years he was an executive for the pharmaceutical company Merck, Sharp & Dohme.
Jose Yglesias wrote seven novels and four works of non-fiction. Jose Yglesias was known throughout the country for writing A Wake in Ybor City (1973), about Cubans who immigrated to Florida and The Franco Years (1975), a series of interviews, with people who lived in Spain under Francisco Franco's dictatorship.
Yglesias died at the age of seventy five at Beth Israel Hospital in Manhattan of cancer November 1995 of cancer. He was one of the greats of this country’s foreign literature like Ernest Hemmingway and Emily Dickinson. Another great writer, novelist, playwright, and critic was Severo Sarduy.
Severo Sarduy was born in Camaguey, Cuba in February 25, 1937. He went to elementary and high school in Cuba and earned a degree in Bachelors of Arts and Sciences in 1955 at the Institute of Higher Learning. After that he went to Havana to study medicine but was only able to complete a year in school because the dictator at the time Fulgencio Batista closed down the school.
Sarduy was an author and critic. His collection of essays on other Latinoamerican writers is published in his “Esrito sobre un cuerpo.” He also wrote “De donde son los cantantes" in 1967 in mexico which put him on the map as a leading novelist because he was published in the same printing company as Joaquin Mortiz. Sarduy also wrote playwrights like “La playa” and published a poetry book entitled “Big Bang.”
Unfortunately Sarduy died at the age of fifty six of AIDS in a hospital in Paris where he moved in 1959 to study at The School of Louvre. In Paris he wrote for the journal "Tel Quel", where he was influenced by Structuralist and Poststructuralist movements, and formed literary relationships with Francois Wahl and Roland Barthes.
These two literary greats inspired many writers and have inspired me very much as well. They arrived here in the United States for a different opportunity and to make a new life for themselves and contributed much more than just words on a page. They contributed a passion for words on a page and made many people feel that passion as well.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Arizona-Racial Profiling is Wrong!
My mother can’t understand why the Arizona bill has me so riled up. She says that “it is no big deal; illegal immigrants shouldn’t be in this country anyway, living off of our government and benefiting from our country without trying to become a citizen.” I just can’t understand why she doesn’t see my point. Illegal immigrants shouldn’t be allowed to roam this country, no, but innocent citizens in this country should not be racially profiled for the sake of catching illegal immigrants. Can you imagine walking down the street and being randomly questioned because of the way you look? Or because someone overheard you speak and you just so happen to have an accent? Ok, now a lot of people will say “But Tashiana, people are racially profiled all the time; black people for being violent criminals and Muslims for being terrorists- what makes it any different?” I will tell you what makes it different, there hasn’t been a law making it legal. Now it is legal at least to racially profile Hispanics in Arizona. Where next? Granted, Arizona is a very republican state but republican states can influence other republican states and have a domino affect and boom…maybe one day the law will be here in New York being debated.
I think this bill is disgraceful and it is unconstitutional. Even if there are people who are not citizens in this country then that means our military and border patrol is faulty. We need to either hire better border patrol or have a stronger military or do something else different in order to keep the unwanted and unwelcomed out. Racially profiling Hispanics on the street is not the answer. I mean there are undocumented residents here in the United States for different reasons: some people are here on work visas and when they expire they stay because they have made a life here and so they stay and try to lay low in order to live a comfortable life for themselves and their families. Also some people are uneducated about ways to become legalized in this country. It seems like an excuse but it is a reason nonetheless. If I wasn’t told by my academic advisor that my teacher needed to sign my Add/Drop form in order to drop a class, I would have never know and the same goes for illegal immigrants—even if most of them do know the procedures, there is still a good number who do not because of lack of education and fear of being deported if they try to become residents. Also most illegal immigrants make just enough money to support themselves and their families…who has money for a lawyer in order to be legalized?
But this is not supposed to be a rant about why illegal immigrants shouldn’t be deported because if the person is doing illegal acts such as selling drugs or plotting acts of terrorism against the government then they should definitely be deported and punished. What I am saying is why are American citizens being subjected to this just to be able to “protect our country.” I can guarantee you there are a hundred different ways to spend the resources than finding random Hispanic people on the street and asking them for their citizenship papers. But maybe I’m the radical one…maybe I’m the one who doesn’t understand…that stereotyping, even if we all do it in one way or another, is wrong!
I think this bill is disgraceful and it is unconstitutional. Even if there are people who are not citizens in this country then that means our military and border patrol is faulty. We need to either hire better border patrol or have a stronger military or do something else different in order to keep the unwanted and unwelcomed out. Racially profiling Hispanics on the street is not the answer. I mean there are undocumented residents here in the United States for different reasons: some people are here on work visas and when they expire they stay because they have made a life here and so they stay and try to lay low in order to live a comfortable life for themselves and their families. Also some people are uneducated about ways to become legalized in this country. It seems like an excuse but it is a reason nonetheless. If I wasn’t told by my academic advisor that my teacher needed to sign my Add/Drop form in order to drop a class, I would have never know and the same goes for illegal immigrants—even if most of them do know the procedures, there is still a good number who do not because of lack of education and fear of being deported if they try to become residents. Also most illegal immigrants make just enough money to support themselves and their families…who has money for a lawyer in order to be legalized?
But this is not supposed to be a rant about why illegal immigrants shouldn’t be deported because if the person is doing illegal acts such as selling drugs or plotting acts of terrorism against the government then they should definitely be deported and punished. What I am saying is why are American citizens being subjected to this just to be able to “protect our country.” I can guarantee you there are a hundred different ways to spend the resources than finding random Hispanic people on the street and asking them for their citizenship papers. But maybe I’m the radical one…maybe I’m the one who doesn’t understand…that stereotyping, even if we all do it in one way or another, is wrong!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Join us in the Clouds
There were many reasons why Jordan should have not been allowed to be in society. One main concern was his past malicious behaviors. Jordan played pranks on people, like many teenagers do, but his were far more sinister than just a simple whoopee cushion on a chair. Jordan liked pricking his two younger brothers with sewing needles while they slept to see in what areas they would bleed. He liked dangling his three month old cousin upside down by one leg to see how long it took for her to turn purple, and even smothered his mothers boyfriend with a plastic garbage bag and watched him gasp for air- until of course his mothers boyfriend kicked him in the groin and tackled him to the ground. Jordan had bruises on his back for weeks for falling so hard on the wood floor- but even this was exciting to him.
Although Jordan exhibited strange behavior, his mother thought “teenager = rebellion = attention = too much work.” She just couldn’t wait for him to go away to college so he could find something he loved to do besides playing practical but dangerous jokes on people he cared about. Jordan’s mother, a school nurse, saw students’ everyday that showed the same types of erratic behaviors that he did but they always turned out fine once they explored the world and found something constructive to do outside of their tiny town.
And so the day came where Jordan would finally become something, be happy, and meet people just like him; Jordan was going to college.
Jordan had arrived; he had his skinny black jeans hugging his skinny brown legs and his black button-down shirt. He made no effort to talk to anyone which intrigued the ladies and infuriated the men; but Jordan didn’t care. Actually, he didn’t even know people saw him when he walked from his car to his locker or from his locker to his class. However, he did feel uneasy here. From the minute he stepped on the New York City campus, he felt a sense of doom, sadness, and danger.
Students’ chatter filled every empty space of the school, even the black spaces where the people we couldn’t see lingered.
Jordan’s first class of the day was music. He was clueless in this arena. His specialty was psychology. This is what he wanted to do as a career and the class he enjoyed the most; even if everyone whispered about him in the class and said that the class should be studying him instead of people they didn’t know. He was different, not crazy, despite what everyone else thought.
Jordan sat close to himself, arms crossed, head down, body pushed all the way to the back of the chair. His professor liked to say that Jordan sat like this because he was “absorbing the beauty of Bach and the brilliance of Mauchaut,” but he really slept through the “beauty” and “brilliance.”
Today, something broke his journey to dream land. Through the large white windows where the view of the Hudson River was not only available but beautiful, Jordan heard geese. Geese on campus were a norm but the distinct calling of geese was something he had never heard before. Then as Jordan prepared to resume his standard head bowed, arms crossed position, the calls got louder and more desperate. They were calling for Jordan to help them, to join them in the beautiful gray skies and he obliged them. He looked around to the other twelve students in the classroom who were immersed in Bach and absorbing Mauchaut and ignoring the geese.
“Why isn’t anyone saying about the geese?” he thought “Don’t they hear them?” just then he stands up and walks to the front of the room. He felt like he was walking on air and only saw the partial rays of sunshine reflecting off the glass of the window.
“Jordan,” the professor started pushing his square rimmed glasses up to his nose. “May I ask why you are standing idle in the middle of the classroom-“he paused “staring out the window?”
Jordan could hear the geese getting closer and closer and …BAM! BAM! BAM! Three geese slammed into the window. Jordan flinched and glanced at the rest of the class.
“Well professor, the geese are calling me,” Jordan explained slowly walking towards the window he and only he saw the geese hit.
“Excuse me Jordan, first of all there should be no one calling you but my friends Bach and Mauchaut and secondly…geese don’t talk,” the class erupted in laughter but all Jordan could hear was “come and join us in the gray skies.” And so he slowly lifted the white wooden window, sat on the ledge…and jumped.
The class heard a thump, Jordan heard nothing anymore and his mother heard he committed suicide. “I guess he wasn’t rebelling” his mother said “maybe he was sick.”
Although Jordan exhibited strange behavior, his mother thought “teenager = rebellion = attention = too much work.” She just couldn’t wait for him to go away to college so he could find something he loved to do besides playing practical but dangerous jokes on people he cared about. Jordan’s mother, a school nurse, saw students’ everyday that showed the same types of erratic behaviors that he did but they always turned out fine once they explored the world and found something constructive to do outside of their tiny town.
And so the day came where Jordan would finally become something, be happy, and meet people just like him; Jordan was going to college.
Jordan had arrived; he had his skinny black jeans hugging his skinny brown legs and his black button-down shirt. He made no effort to talk to anyone which intrigued the ladies and infuriated the men; but Jordan didn’t care. Actually, he didn’t even know people saw him when he walked from his car to his locker or from his locker to his class. However, he did feel uneasy here. From the minute he stepped on the New York City campus, he felt a sense of doom, sadness, and danger.
Students’ chatter filled every empty space of the school, even the black spaces where the people we couldn’t see lingered.
Jordan’s first class of the day was music. He was clueless in this arena. His specialty was psychology. This is what he wanted to do as a career and the class he enjoyed the most; even if everyone whispered about him in the class and said that the class should be studying him instead of people they didn’t know. He was different, not crazy, despite what everyone else thought.
Jordan sat close to himself, arms crossed, head down, body pushed all the way to the back of the chair. His professor liked to say that Jordan sat like this because he was “absorbing the beauty of Bach and the brilliance of Mauchaut,” but he really slept through the “beauty” and “brilliance.”
Today, something broke his journey to dream land. Through the large white windows where the view of the Hudson River was not only available but beautiful, Jordan heard geese. Geese on campus were a norm but the distinct calling of geese was something he had never heard before. Then as Jordan prepared to resume his standard head bowed, arms crossed position, the calls got louder and more desperate. They were calling for Jordan to help them, to join them in the beautiful gray skies and he obliged them. He looked around to the other twelve students in the classroom who were immersed in Bach and absorbing Mauchaut and ignoring the geese.
“Why isn’t anyone saying about the geese?” he thought “Don’t they hear them?” just then he stands up and walks to the front of the room. He felt like he was walking on air and only saw the partial rays of sunshine reflecting off the glass of the window.
“Jordan,” the professor started pushing his square rimmed glasses up to his nose. “May I ask why you are standing idle in the middle of the classroom-“he paused “staring out the window?”
Jordan could hear the geese getting closer and closer and …BAM! BAM! BAM! Three geese slammed into the window. Jordan flinched and glanced at the rest of the class.
“Well professor, the geese are calling me,” Jordan explained slowly walking towards the window he and only he saw the geese hit.
“Excuse me Jordan, first of all there should be no one calling you but my friends Bach and Mauchaut and secondly…geese don’t talk,” the class erupted in laughter but all Jordan could hear was “come and join us in the gray skies.” And so he slowly lifted the white wooden window, sat on the ledge…and jumped.
The class heard a thump, Jordan heard nothing anymore and his mother heard he committed suicide. “I guess he wasn’t rebelling” his mother said “maybe he was sick.”
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