Monday, January 12, 2009


Today in College Lit. we were asked by our teacher Mr. Kunkle whether or not we have a race? As it turns out I found that it was a really hard question to answer, but with some thought this is what I came up with.

I believe that everyone has a race, but what matters is how much you act on that race. Like how much you judge people who aren't the same race of you. So, yes, I have a race. I'm white, but looking at other people of different race I don't treat them any differently. I see them just like me, just like everyone else, except for those things that make us as an individual unique.

Like I bring up many times is my trip to Zambia. Before I left a lot of people said that I'm going to feel strange, maybe even a little afraid because there I would be the minority. But in reality, that didn't happen at all. In fact I hardly notice except for when I rarely thought about it. It didn't bother me in any way, and I thought of them just like I would think of anyone else including myself.

So, to me people have a race, but that's all it is nothing more. Plus what is race really? Is it your skin tone, religion, your origins, who your parents are, I mean who really knows right?

Thursday, January 8, 2009


My first thoughts on Caucasia. Well, for starters it is definitely a very different book from anything that I have ever really read. Usually I read mystery/thrillers, so yeah it's different. I do like it though. I think that it is very well put together and as a lot of insight on certain things.

I also think that even though it isn't a fast paced read it still leaves enough answers unquestioned to make you want to keep reading.

I think that it is a little easier for me to relate to and kind of know where some things are coming from because it has two sisters in it. So, because I have some sisters too some things make more sense to me and I an able to relate to somethings that other people may not be able to. So, that may be part of the reason why this book holds me interested to it.

Thursday, December 18, 2008


At first I couldn't come up with anything for a time where I really noticed my gender/race and then Mr. Kunkle told his story about being in a McDonald's and he was the only white guy. This reminded me of when I went to Africa.

When I went on my trip even though it was mainly just me and my two aunts that were white in my aunts village I never really felt out of place, but now that I look back on it there are somethings that I now remember that stick out about me being white.

The main thing that I remember is that whenever we went to some market place to buy/bargain with people they all set the prices really high. A lot of them thought that just because we were white that we had a ton of money. They assumed this with out even thinking about it. It was just something that they see and automatically relate it to. White people equal money in their world and that's that.

Monday, December 8, 2008

When I Was Young

Being censored. Everyone can probably come up with at least one time that they have been censored. Censoring is a very common thing, but I just haven't really noticed it until we were told to think about it.

It actually kind of amazes me how much we are censored. Just from our friends, family, and teachers alone. Like not being able to say what we think in some classes because the teacher doesn't want to get into some kind of debate or you and a friend have a different view on something and she feels strongly one way and you feel strongly the other.

Even the news censors a ton of things. Now some things I understand that you have to censor it otherwise their could be huge disagreements and they want to some what keep the peace, if you will, of the people.

So, that night when I went home censorship was very much at the front of my mind and I started noticing things just within my family. Like my mom, dad, and I would all just tell my younger sisters to be quiet because they don't know what their talking about. Even if they do a little, we just think they don't need to be talking about those kinds of things.

My youngest sister Jenna loves to watch moves way out of her age range, for example Hancock, which is rated pg-13 and she is only 6 years old. So my parents have to say no.

Also my mom and I would be talking about some one close to us and my mom doesn't want my sisters to be a part of the conversation. First off so they don't accidentally say something to that person and secondly she doesn't think they will understand or it is "adult talk" as parents always say.

When I was young I can recall the same things happening to me. For example having to get a sheet signed by your parents to be able to watch a movie because it is rated pg, but it has a swore word in it.

My last example is of the day that 9/11 happened. I remember that the teachers weren't allowed to turn on the t.v. and it was all hush, hush. They said that the reason they had to do that was because they wanted your parents to share the news just in case you knew someone that worked in the twin towers.

So, ultimitly what I'm trying to say is that I haven't relized that it was such a part of our lives until I actually thought about it a little.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Relating Two Texts

In class last we one of our assignments was to find a poem about war. After we had done that we were to get in a group of two or three and share them. One of the people in my group had a great poem that we could easily connect to one of the poems in the packet.

This poem is "In Flanders Field" by Dr. John McCrae.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

I connected this poem to "The Man He Killed," one of the poems in the packet that Mr. Kunkle gave us. Other than them both being related because they are about war, they are related in a couple of other ways also. The one that popped out at me the most was the concept of that they all are normal people and if they weren't fighting each other they wouldn't be enemies and they probably would have gotten along just dandy.

So, in the poem written by McCrae it talks about how "We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow." In those two lines it is explaining how they are dead, but it doesn't matter who is dead, just that people from both sides are dead. And the day before they were alive, and both sides felt dawn and saw sunset glow.

In the "The Man He Killed," it explains how if it were under different conditions the man that he met he probably would have sat down and had a beer with him but because he as an "enemy" he shot him instead.

Another relation that just occurred to me that I wanted to mention real quick was that I found it interesting that instead of using the word enemy they both used the term "foe." And I was kind of curious as to why that would be.

Monday, November 24, 2008

One of Many Wars Against My Parents

A war against my parents. So, it was about a couple of years ago and I was getting extremely annoyed at all the the annoyed looks I was getting. I would receive these annoyed looks from people whenever I asked someone too many times to borrow their cell phone.

One day when I was all worked up even more than usual because someone had finally put it bluntly and was like, "When are your parents going to get you your own phone so you can stop using others?" And I was said, "Well, that is a good question. I'll ask them." That's exactly what I did, too. I went home and practically yelled at my parents.

Previous to this day, I have actually had this conversation with them before and they have always said NO without even batting an eye. It wouldn't matter how many good explanations I came up with or actually good reasons for having a cell phone they just didn't seem to care.

That night I yelled at my parents all in one breath, "I'm getting so sick and tired of people always being annoyed at me because I have to keep asking them to use their cell phone because it is the only phone that is around and available." My parents response was the usual, not even looking at me as they are saying it, "Well what do you want us to do about it?" And in my head I'm thinking isn't obvious I want you to buy my a cell phone. Even though this whole time I know, that they know, that I have been wanting a cell phone for a while now.

But in response to their question I don't even make it an option I said, " I NEED a CELL PHONE!" At this they finally look at me and then just keep looking at me until I kind of shook my head and put that look on my face, well? Then they said, "They are too expensive and you wouldn't even use it that much anyways," even though I would use it and I know that they aren't too expensive for us, "so, NO we are not going to get you a cell phone."

And, well, that was the end of that. Another war against my parents lost. The little scene above took place around sophomore year and to this day I still don't have a cell phone. Not that I'm bitter about it or anything! =} Anyways, my parents and I actually get along pretty well most of the time even though it may not sound that way.

Monday, November 17, 2008

A Story from Work

This is to those who commented on my last post and thought that I should include something about my achievement of going to Africa. About a couple of years ago I was able to go to Zambia with my aunt Teresa to visit my aunt Lynn who lives there.

The first couple of weeks I spent at the village my aunt lives in: Mukingi. There, I did random acts of volunteering at the hospital or schools. Some of these things included organizing the surgery supply room, handing out some of our old stuffed animals to the kids in the children ward at the hospital, and finding workers to help build an orphanage.

The story I want to tell you about though, is the one where my aunt Teresa and I went to a school. So one day we got out of bed early and went to a nearby elementary school. While we were there all school day (7am-1pm) we did various activities that was part of the everyday routine. They had lecture time, reading time, resses, and a lot of work in educational work packets about reading, math, grammar, and other things. While they had work time this one girl became very fond of me and my help. She would come to me for all of her questions in the work packets that she may have, she would tell me what was happening next, she would hold my hand when we went outside to play, and much more. It just made me feel good about myself that I was able to teach her something, but at the same time make her day as well and that she was able to help me along. To teach me something: How it all works in this part of the world. I had an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment and selflessness. I was surprised at how easy it is to help people who are really in need of it. Even if it is just holding a hand to lead the way out through a door. It was one of the most enjoyable things that I had done throughout the whole trip, as simple as it was.