Frozen Dreams

As early action decisions start rolling out this month, many seniors will be either devastated or ecstatic.  It seems like this piece of paper, this letter of admissions, is the pivotal point in their lives. In other words, it's their Judy Jones.  This moment in their life is probably the most important up to this point, as they are constantly "unconsciously dictated by [their] winter dreams" (Fitzgerald 2).

Dexter starts out as the epitome of a self made man, one that rises from modesty to recognition and wealth.  However, Judy Jones comes in and- in part- ruins much of what he has worked for.  In other words, Judy comes to represent the materialism that was the demise for many of the wealthy during the Jazz Age.  Ultimately, Judy becomes "old news" and all the sacrifice Dexter made for her went to nothing.  The irony of the situation seems to parallel modern society with the rigorous college admissions process.  Many parents start preparing their children to become respected and educated students from a young age.  However, these efforts often go in vain as we as students tend to forget what we are really working for.  Judy/college comes into our lives, becoming our winter dream.  Yet contradictorily, these dreams freeze our conscious, rendering us from moving forward.  In the end, all dreams, all hope, cannot be focused on one goal or one object.  Because when that thing is gone, so is all the hope.  

don't let anything block your vision

Fitzgerald's warning against materialism and the demise of the once potent American Dream can even be seen today.  Similar to the way racism is still present (and how Lorraine Hansberry included the continuation of the problem in Raisin in the Sun), the problem of frozen dreams and blurred vision continues to deter talented students from the real goal. 

destroyed and alone

The entire ending of this book was just a emotional storm-- actually, the entire book was.  I was constantly torn between straight up fangirling and obsessing over the rich and sophisticated Gatsby (Leanardo DiCaprio!!!) and yelling at him to stop obsessing over the past. The fact that Gatsby held these wild parties with great attendance and ceaseless attention over his mysterious figure by its guests seems to contradict his bland funeral.  Why is it that someone who was so popular when he was alive just a ghost once his spirit is gone?

he was alone in the end.

Ironically, the only person who came to his funeral other than the ever so constant Nick is the father who James Gatz left as a young man.  As a man who was never influenced by the materialism wealth (he stayed in the West all of his life), Gatsby's father does not have the fickleness that the residents of the East do: he values people with moral values without regarding them as mere temporary items.  It seems that the people we encounter in this book are only worried about the material wealth tied with events and items- if it is no longer relevant, it is not worth their time and resources to consider.  Even Daisy, the one person Gatsby focused over half a decade of his life on, sent no condolences or even recognition of the tragedy. Yet Mr. Gatz remembers his son and even reminisces over the determination Gatsby had as a young boy to improve himself and his social status.  This goes back to the importance of speed during this time period.  Time seems to move at an infinte speed for the residents of East Egg- the past is only a distant memory.  However, it seems that this "speed" never reached Gatsby.  He is and always will be a man living in the past.  At the same time, it is important to note how much his obsession over the dream of Daisy has consumed Gatsby. It seems as though Gatsby had a fresh and morally right future in front of him- he was a bright boy with ambitions and the right of mind (as noted by his father).  Yet Nick knows who he has become. He knows that through the process of trying to gain material wealth and consequently Daisy, Gatsby succumbed to the ruins and corruption that characterized so much of this time period.  

corruption consumed him.

The demise of Gatsby seems to highlight the moral fraud many of those during the infamous "Jazz Age".  The moral values Nick tried to find so desperately in the opulent Eggs was nonexistent: those caught up in this lifestyle could not see past the lavish parties and the swiftness of life. Real relationships never truly happened.  All the relationships in this book were characterized with insincerity, hopelessness, and artificiality.  This age destroyed even the most pristine of characters. 

"that's the best thing a girl can be...

...in this world, a beautiful little fool" (Fitzgerald 17).  These famous words from the beautiful and delicate Daisy have been posted thousands of times on ignorant girls Instagram bios.  Amid it's caption with emoji flashes and glitter, it seems that this quote has lost it's meaning in todays world where feminism is a prevalent movement and such ideas are frowned upon.

women are anything but innocent these days, from the looks of this picture

Back in the early nineteenth century, society valued women who were submissive and innocent: they were expected to remain home and take care of children and not have a mind of their own.  In a way, Daisy embodies this ideal by avoiding anything that displaces her from her more calm life.  She stays out of her husband's affairs while forgetting her real love for Gatsby.  She wants her daughter to be free of such "sinful" affairs by being innocent.  If a woman doesn't understand the truth and doesn't question her husbands motives and actions (such as where he gets his money), then she is better off being carefree.  This applies to the cliche "ignorance is bliss".  If you don't know what is going on in the rest of the world (poverty, war, refugees), you have less stress and can focus more on your own *petty* issues.  However, is this really better for society as a whole? How about for those around you? Educated people may not be able to live as non-chalantly, but they do get to understand things better without being put to the bottom and demoted as empty-headed.

innocence is bliss?

As the novel progresses, the innocence that women were supposed to have slowly slipped away to more sensual pleasures- such as Daisy's affair with Gatsby.  Like many of the women during the Jazz Age, the submissive character was stripped away as a sense of freedom came with the freedom to vote.  So maybe ignorance is not bliss after all, for such innocence can cause servitude.

The dreadful day I got my ACT score...

Three weeks later, my ACT scores came out. When I got to my computer, the black screen seemed to be taunting me, asking me to unlock it. My mind was racing. "It's the test that decides your future, no big deal" it said.  I knew my parents would kill me, if they saw a bad score. They would disown me, put me "out in the wild somewhere" (Walls 280). Even more than that, no college would ever let me step onto their campus with a bad test score. I wanted to throw my computer out the door-- never let the scores get to me and ruin my life.

Instead, I logged into http://www.actstudent.org/. It was tan with a blue banner. I clicked on the scores button, and saw a blaring 36.

In the seconds that followed, I quickly scanned the subscores. 36, 36, 36 okay... 35.9 on reading?!? If this was a nightmare, I wanted it to end. If this was what failure feels like, I wanted it to end. If my parents wanted to disown me, they should just do it to end my pain. I couldn't believe this defeat was the result of 5,000 hours of studying, 60 practice tests, and innumerable amounts stress. I knew, that this moment would traumatize me for the rest of my life...

DISCLAIMERS:

1. this post was mimicking The Glass Castle page 280 (Walls, Jeannette. The Glass Castle. London: Virago, 2005. Print.)

2. this is also a sardonic post- not only did I never take the ACT and make up an impossible score, but it also shows that people put too much of their life on standardized testing (or even school and scores in general). As my fellow junior-suffering friends and I stress about getting the best scores possible, it seems like we all lose sight of what's important.  Yes, college is important, but the obsession should not consume your life and you should definitely not let a less than favorable score ruin your life.

horror

ca·tas·tro·phe

kəˈtastrəfē/

noun

1. an event causing great and often sudden damage or suffering; a disaster.

Many people will say they have not personally gone through a catastrophe. However, a catastrophe is not limited to events that affect a wide mass of people: it could be a local disaster, a family tragedy, or even a personal suffering. Nevertheless, widespread disasters affect all of us- it makes us realize just how lucky we are. Everyone comes into this world with a different circumstance. Things we can't control like our genetics, color of our skin, our physicality, etc. can greatly limit or stimulate us. In The Bluest Eye, Pecola Breedlove is restricted by her gender, skin color, nationality, and even her "ugliness". In fact, even her own race turns against her, one of whom made a distinction between "colored people [and] n******" (Morrison 124).

Supposedly, one is better than the other

Because of this, Pecola is constantly facing discrimination and, as a result, catastrophes. She is accused of killing a cat and even raped by her own father. Such events had me on the edge of my seat, filled with emotions that could only be described as horror. The only thing that kept me from breaking down was the fact that these events did not happen in real life. Unfortunately, however, these events do happen everyday, prevalently. While going through my daily internet surfing, I came about the rape accusations put upon a very well-known YouTuber: Sam Pepper. With over 2 million subscribers, he sexually assaulted and forever scarred over 8 girls. Girls that- like Pecola- are unable to come out (or even worse, are not believed when they do).
On the topic of catastrophes, the recent attack on Paris has left millions around the globe in shock and horror. Even worse, this event is happening around the globe, constantly.  Dozens of people killed in Beirut.  Hundreds of refugees dyeing in an attempt for a better life. Iraq.  Afganistan.  The list goes on. 

thousands of people have changed their facebook profile picture #prayforparis

It is important to remember that catastrophes are always happening, and each deserves mourning. You may not be the rape victim, the girl who had to pretend to be dead so she was not shot by the terrorists, or student diagnosed with cancer, but each event impacts you directly. Each event continues to remind us to value what we have and help whoever we can. On the same note, everyone does go through their own catastrophes, and even though it's not all over CNN or posters on the wall, these horrible events need to be treated with empathy. Cholly and Mrs. Breedlove's chapters taught me that much. 

"this is an attack on all of humanity and the universal values that we share" -B.O.

YOU, yes you, are beautiful

What defines beauty? Or in other words, who is beautiful?  It may be overly optimistic to say that everyone is beautiful-that is impossible.  If everyone is beautiful, then no one is beautiful.  However, it does make sense to say that everyone is beautiful in their own way- in other words, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Shortly after The Martian, I was obsessing over this beautiful face- my good friend Emily, however, was not so ecstatic

I was moved to write this blog post after reading Toni Morrison's reaction to the first time she saw "beauty" as "the force of which was equaled by the knowledge that no one recognized it... not even the one who possessed it". A fellow female classmate can definitely relate with the following situation: you're in the bathroom with a friend and she can't stop picking out her flaws and declaiming  that she is "ugly". However, when we look at the mirror, we only see the impeccable characteristics that they seem to be oblivious to.  So maybe that's the reason for the fuzzy outline of beauty- no one believes they are beautiful.  Countless models we look up to daily in magazines body sham themselves (with the help of the press, of course).  So the problem doesn't seem to be that there is no set characteristics that a person should be to be considered beautiful- rather, they are unattainable.  No matter how skinny her waist is, or how flawless her hair looks, she still won't be perfect (at least to themselves). 

this does not apply to just females; males also get labeled for "hotness"

So is a L-shaped nose, blue eyes, and blonde hair the epitome of beauty? Or can a brown-skinned, curly-hair, and dusty brown eyes also be beautiful? The answer is yes; the problem is not everyone sees that.  Toni Morrison's book explores what society deems to be beautiful and how people (specifically one lost child) react to these standards. In a nutshell, everyone is beautiful- it just takes the right person to see it (ends with a trite statement).

Why the feminist movement has bumps

"Don't worry about your looks honey! It's what's on the inside that counts!" -every overly enthusiastic adult, ever.
In some sense, this is true- at least society wants it to be.  But in reality, looks are vital in daily life. After all, who hasn't looked at someone and judged them- whether it be taking notice of the mousy hair or the a less than desired layers of warmth around the stomach? It's a bit of a conundrum, really. We are told that it doesn't matter how someone looks but rather how someone acts.  But then why do we have the ability to see? We cannot see someone's "inside" or personality; but we can see their physical appearance.

do not tell me you haven't done this before

However, I am by no means trying to dismiss the utmost importance of personality over looks.  In its deepest level, this problem is due to flaws in human judgement and perception.  We only get to truly know a certain number of people in life; we only touch everyone else on the superficial level.  If that is the case, then how are we supposed to know someone's personality if we don't even know them?

so yes, it is the inside that counts

This issue is apparent in a recent article we read in class about Barbies (yes, the toy). While Prager (the author) does discuss the Barbie's "influence" in a very sardonic manner, she makes an important point about the feminist movement by putting it as "a time when women sought equality and small breasts were king". This is not entirely based off of the distorted proportion of Barbie but rather the basic truth in society:  tired of being oppressed and used for physical features, women sought to end the need for "big breasts" to be considered beautiful.  Although I absolutely agree with this train of thought, this is by no means a easy task on the most fundamental level.  Women are still being used today as "sex" objects and shown as obedient and submissive people in pop culture.  There is a long way for women to go before they can truly be free from social ties and expectations, considering how hard it is to consider people outside the influence of appearance.

Time won't stop for your afternoon tea and reminiscing

Time can be seen as a very plastic element; traveling from one dimension to another has become accomplishable with the help of memory.

time is ruthless- it never stops even when we need a break

How many times have you thought about the past- whether it be a quick flashback or a full on musing? We use the past as both a vehicle for improvement and a deterrent from movement. We have all heard the saying "no need to cry over spilled milk"; however, sometimes, the events of the past continue to haunt us incessantly, and we must live in the past even when time moves on. This is exactly Vladek's case as a Holocaust survivor; despite trying to move on, his Holocaust stripes continue to clothe him until his grave.

may they rest in peace- peace from their memories, that is

In the (non-HD) excerpt below, there is a striking contrast between the past and present- not only between Vladek's story and Art's point of view, but also with the gravestone. For one, the drawing of his and Anja's gravestone is without a border- showing that it is not confined with Art's story telling; their death is a physical quality with remains and no amount of story twisting is able to dispute that fact. Also, there is no page number on this page, showing that there is no time limit for their death- it is an externalized event. The seemingly ironic mention of Richieu in the last panel demonstrates how the past is continuously haunting Vladeck: he cannot stop thinking about his deceased son even when he is with Art, However, the smoke in the middle of his gravestone (which is strikingly similar to the smoke from the crematorium) shows that not only is his body gone, but his memories that haunted him before also leave him (although they are not gone forever for they are internalized by the story Art has wrote).

                                                                                                                                            

Savoring the last drop of tea

Some things in life never leave us, even when they are long gone physically. Whether it be the best day of your life or the worst, memory is what keeps the past in the back of our minds. Holocaust survivors are unfortunately forever haunted by their inhumane treatment during WWII. In Maus by Art Speigelman, the father is now decades past his Holocaust experience yet he can never escape his memories.

behind bars

With a look at the statistics, the chance of survival was slim, with lack of better words. In certain countries such as Bulgaria, the survival rate was 0%- all fifty thousand people were killed in vain (Holocaust Timeline: Statistics of the Holocaust).  With this in mind, Vladek's ability to survive through the camp was a combination of luck, wit, and intelligence. However, some survivors may believe it would have been better not to survive the camp, as the memories will never leave them (shown in the suicide of Anja). Nevertheless, Vladek is able to continue living despite the inability to move on. It's a bit of a conundrum isn't it? Isn't living a sign of moving through life, through time? Yet Vladeck is shown-more than once- to be weighed down by his memories through his stationary bike and stripes (both panels are shown below).  His memories are like a circle- once they happened, they just kept on playing, never letting him out.  He will also never lose his stripes that decked him in his Holocaust uniform.

when searched on google, Holocaust is classified as a crime. But that seems to whitewash the reality and the after effects.


In a way, the title of this blog post is opposite of its content; although Vladeck will never forget his past (hence the last drop of tea part), it is nowhere near the positive connotation given through the idea of tea.
Disclaimer: sorry about the darker side of this post- some things just cannot be taken lightly.

Some teas have just lost their place in society

"There's no profit in raising girls. Better to raise geese than girls" (Kingston 46)
As a Chinese female, I was able to relate to many of the things that Kingston talked about in her piece about feminism in the context of an asian culture.  However, I've never heard anything as extreme as what she heard from her neighbors; I believe this is a result of being "Americanized".

your typical American Asian

My parents moved to the US after college, and since I was raised solely in America with parents that have adopted many American ways,  I supposedly lost much of my "chinese identity".  Regardless of my citizenship, however, I continue to consider myself as a Chinese woman.  This is because I value many of the morals and beliefs originated from China, such as the tales of powerful women that Kingston alludes to.  However, since my parents have raised me with slight nuances to the Chinese way, certain beliefs such as the subjugated status of women, never really permeated in me. 

I like to think of myself as a puzzle with pieces from all identities

After all that babble about who I am, I wanted to point out that Kingston's portray of women in the latter half of her vignette has really lost it's value in American society.  After reading, I remember hearing some of my classmates wondering (out loud) whether what the people said in this excerpt was really true- did women really regard themselves as nothing more than property? Whether Chinese culture had that perspective is one story, but the conventional idea that women act in such an obsequious manner is quite archaic in American society.   Not to water down the feminist tea or anything, but such extreme views have long since disappeared from our society (thank goodness).

Time to take a sip of tea and relax...

When was the last time you thought about the air you breathed? Or maybe contemplated the sky and the sun that shines on you every morning? It's probably been a while since you last stopped focusing on the minuscule but arduous tasks at hand an really looked at the world around you.

pretty comprehensive, except the sleep section is inaccurately big

We often forget about the biggest things in life and tend to focus too much on the little things- as David Foster Wallace mentioned in a speech.  An epitome of this can be seen in our bland lives: we wake up, eat three meals, go to work or school so the future can be secure, and sleep at early hours in the morning, only to wake up a little bit later to start over.  Sounds pretty familiar, right?  However, I bet it's been a while since you stopped and took a day off.  I know the initial reaction of "I don't have time to waste, every minute/day counts".  But, it's because of this tone and attitude that leads to the increasingly monotone action of our lives.  Like a cup of tea without any flavoring, milk, or sugar, this type of life can be insipid and easily become overbearing.  So even though you may think you're being productive (which you're not), it may be time to relax and enjoy the world around you, since you haven't done so in a while.

Although this is true, don't forget to step back and look at the big picture every now and then

apparently there are only 3 types of teas...

Stereotypes.  We all think that they are bad and try our best to stay away from them.  Yet how many times have you looked at someone's feature and felt like you knew their whole story? "Oh, that all-state athlete on the wall? I bet he had a 2.0 during high school" or even better (or worse) "Oh, someone got a 40% on the test? I guarantee you it's that girl with the blond hair" We can try all we want, but society has several stereotypes that never seem to leave.

now you wouldn't expect this, would you?

In class we discussed how stereotypes restricted the way people in the nineteen hundreds looked at Native Americans.  Especially through the movie industry, Native Americans were portrayed as brusque, strident, and impassive.  However in reality, these people are so much more complex.  This really goes to show that a person cannot be described in a couple words.  We are multiplex people, amalgams of various qualities and personalities.  Because of this variety, stereotypes will never be accurate, and therefore never beneficial. In a way, these stereotypes still exist.  For example, when I typed in "Native American" in google, the top 50 images that popped up were all stereotypical faces- stern, dressed in feathers. Only by specifying, was I able to get a "reality" picture.  As humans, we are unfortunately, like google; whenever a specific group is mentioned, a very standard picture pops into our heads.  This instinct is what keeps stereotypes alive, even years after we realized how detrimental they are to individualism.

stereotype

reality

So how many types of tea are there? You've probably heard of green, white and black tea, but did you know that those categories are extremely superficial?

that's right, you didn't (stop stereotyping)

What happens if you don't have your tea...

For the majority of the time, they carried themselves with pride, a sense of self-confidence. However, sometimes everything just got too overwhelming, when even taking a deep breath couldn't help and there was nothing they could do but beg the teacher to round up their grade and lessen the homework load because there was a band invitational and there was no way they could sleep before two tonight and they begged and cried and lamented and moaned and shouted and screamed for a good grade on their test tomorrow and made a far-reaching promise to their parents that they would work hard, hoping to achieve a four point o. In all forms, this happened to everyone. Afterwards, when the test was over, they would sigh. They would close their eyes, feel tired, and quickly blink it away. They would make themselves look around. As if entering a new realm, piece by piece, everything would fall into place- the champagne colored desks, then the two freshly sharpened number two pencils, then the squeaky blue seats. Slowly, they would immerse themselves in conversation, first with those around them, then to their closest friends, becoming students again. They would shake their cramped hands from writing. They would look around them, check for a familiar face, try to keep their heavy eyes open, try to start a conversation, shake their head and start thinking about their next class. After everyone turned in their test, the class extrovert would say, no kidding, I was so stressed about that test, and the introvert would smile, which meant she was stressed, but she would never say that out loud, that wasn't her personality, and everyone thought she was supposed to be the smart one and never get tense over a test. Then everyone would be silent again, seeing the stress leave everyone's tense bodies, relaxing, savoring the peace that lasts until the bell rings.

We all carry ourselves with pride, with confidence. 

But sometimes, it just gets too much. 

(Disclaimer: This post is mimicking Tim O'Brien's style of writing in a passage from his book- excerpt is provided above in picture format)

Source: O'Brien, Tim. The Things They Carried: A Work of Fiction. New York: Broadway, 1998. Print.