What happened to my blog?

This morning I found myself looking over some old posts and wondering what happened to my dear blog... why did I stop posting? Was it simply that I had nothing to write about? Or was it that I felt there was little purpose in posting my observations if few ever read them? And then one of my favorite quotes came to mind from Orwell's 1984:

"He was a lonely ghost uttering a truth that nobody would ever hear. But so long as he uttered it, in some obscure way the continuity was not broken. It was not by making yourself heard but by staying sane that you carried on the human heritage. He went back to the table, dipped his pen, and wrote..."

It is easy to lose confidence in your own thinking, in your unique observations and beliefs and simply cast them aside in favor of a quieter, less controversial existence. Who knows if what I am uttering is truth, or opinion, but it maintains my own inner continuity in a way that no one Else's opinions ever will. High school is time to find your own distinct perspective on the world, or else surrender it to the tides of conformity. It is a struggle that never ceases, even when one enters the adult world. But the very struggle is unique for every person, and reveals a commitment to the "human heritage" of the quest for truth.

Maybe this post isn't going to enlighten anyone's thinking, but so long as I utter it, in some obscure way the continuity is not broken.

Fighting The Hamburger Stand

I have read various novels this summer, from "The Glass Castle" to "Anna Karenina" (I'm pretty proud of that one) to "Eden's Outcasts". I have had many literary revelations and a lot of new words to mull over, but the most haunting and confounding discovery I have made this summer comes from an unlikely source, David Guterson's "The Other". I would describe this novel as a hybrid of "Into the Wild" and "A Separate Peace" (two of my all time favorites). It pairs the lonely transcendental journey of a confused young man with the story of a surprising and engaging friendship. I imagine that for readers who are no longer students, this novel "reminds them of their youth", making them nostalgic and maybe regretful. For me, someone who is right smack dab in the middle of her high school years, this novel is frightening and all too real. It exposes the conundrum of existence, whether to escape a backwards society, or become a part of it while retaining the illusion that your brand of existence is esoteric and "special" when in reality, you are still part of the hamburger stand. I guess what I am trying to say is that you need to read this book, because it will either awake within you a need to study that conundrum, or it will corroborate your given situation and make you feel like you are in the right. But even if you aren't searching for a meaningful novel or a philosophical solution, this is a well told and riveting piece of fiction that reads like reality, and you will certainly feel a part of Guterson's world.

Earth Day

Being an environmentally conscious individual, I was very excited to hear that my school had deemed this week "Green Week" and dedicated each day to a specific lesson about going green. Monday, there were two electric cars in the school, a lesson in purchasing for teenagers ready to buy their first car. Tuesday, visitors came during lunch to teach about green architecture and other important ways to go green in a big way. Today is walk/bike/carpool to school day. Of course, I will be riding my bike! Tomorrow is "curriculum day", and also, there will be a recycled fashion show. Friday will be "pledge day" so that everyone can make a pledge to themselves to improve the world around them. As I watched a show about the 'human footprint' this morning, I saw a staggering statistic, the average personal watches 12 1/2 years of television in their lifetime! Wow, I turned off the TV right then.
I like to think I watch much less TV than the average person, what with cooking, dancing, and reading. But still, I feel like I need to cut back even more. Also, I've already improved my footprint by becoming a vegetarian one year ago. According to PETA "According to a 2006 U.N. report, the meat industry produces more greenhouse-gas emissions than all the cars, trucks, planes, and ships in the world combined". Though I am not as radical as PETA about animal rights, I do agree that the raising of animals purely for food has become harmful to the environment in so many ways. I have decided this week - and I hope I can uphold this decision - that I am going to strive to buy only used goods from now on. This means buying "vintage clothing", used books (!), and, if possible, used electronics. Who knows, maybe this green craze will wear off, but maybe not!

Loss, Hope, and Pride

Today was a sad day at my high school. At the end of third hour, our principle announced the loss of one of our freshman students, his name was Martin. From the announcement, I learned that Martin had been in band and that he was a vibrant wonderful young boy. This was evident as the classes poured out after the bell had rung, an eerie silence settling over the narrow hallways, and downward glances couldn't hide the tears stuck in so many students' throats. I like to think that this silence was the sound of 2000 ears listening for Martin's voice, hoping it would resound once more. The silence spread across the lawn at lunch, an unusual and unsettling sound in a place that is so often filled with raucous joy. There were few words to be said over our meal, and instead we simply peered at circles of warriors, weeping, remembering, and comforting one another with hugs and pats. Counselors patrolled the campus, giving a much needed hug to any student with tears in their eyes and shocked expressions. The girls bathroom was rife with more tears, and it was a very hard place to be for long. I did not know Martin, in fact I had never heard his name, and yet it stuck to my thoughts like a leech all day long, often bringing me to tears at his mention, or at another student's pain. It is hard to describe the feeling of walking into a hushed classroom and noticing a red wet face huddled under the comforting arm of a caring teacher. It is hard to describe the lump in my throat when I looked up to see the stars on the ceiling, in place for wish week, turned into memorials for a lost life, so many testimonies to a wonderful life young man. Every tear, every hug, every exclamation of grief and pain was felt in the hearts of every student, and I have never before felt as if my breaths and thoughts matched precisely those of the strangers I shared the hallway with. I am touched and saddened by Martin's passing, and all I can say in his memory is that I have never been more proud to be a warrior.

Struggling With Paratactic Structure in Naked Lunch

As I embarked on my second semester ALIS (American Literature Independent Study) novel, I chose a piece of literature that I knew full well would be the most challenging read of my life, William Burroughs's Naked Lunch. I was searching for a novel that challenged me as a reader, but also as a citizen. I wanted something highly controversial and somewhat unknown. This novel fits both categories, and also challenges every single societal ideal that has been drilled into my brain. This text would never be taught in a high school classroom setting due to its various obscenities, however, I found it to be a launch pad for many varied paths of questioning and realization. This is where my problem resides, in choosing only one (or two) of these realizations to build my critical essay, which begins with composing a thesis statement. I struggled today to make any progress with narrowing down my thoughts and forming anything closely resembling a thesis statement - which is usually no sweat for me during the writing process. If anyone reading this post has read Naked Lunch, I would very much appreciate some perspective of narrowing down a topic. The school of literary criticism that I have chosen is postmodernism, which allows me to focus on every aspect of the novel rather than just one. I am intrigued by Burroughs's intentional paratactic structure (sentences and paragraphs that use punctuation like ellipses rather than connecting words and phrases) and lack of plot. I have read essays that assert this to be his way of stating the manipulative power of language, but I find this idea relatively hard to grasp. This post may not be of any use to those who have not read this 'novel', but I thought I should put it out there in case somebody can offer some helpful hints. I should add that though this book was challenging and obscene, it is a powerful and singularly important text, especially for teenagers, which showcases the many facets of drug culture, and indeed, American culture at large. I would recommend it to any curious (and brave) readers.

Dear Mr. President...

Dear Mr. President,
You amaze me every time! After reading your letter to the American people about the disastrous economic crisis, I felt a renewed sense of hope, as I always do after hearing or reading your words. You emanate hope as the sun emanates warmth. I was, and still am, proud that you have the courage to include education in your long list of steps to help our failing economy. Many people have doubted that this will improve job loss and recession, but I believe in education above all else. I believe that with a greater public education system, we can inspire more students to work to their full potential, and give them a safe-haven from the degrading effects of a failing economy. We can ensure that more students will be able to prepare themselves for the challenging job markets with a college education, one that they won't spend their entire paycheck on in years to come. We can give them a place where they don't need a checkbook to attain what they desire, where passion and hope for the future trump cynicism and failure. I find, in this place, a second home. I want you to know, Mr. President, that the most certain future we can build for this country is one that continues to grow and change, and this growth, this change, resides not in the capital building, but in the classroom.
Many thanks and much hope,
Hannah

Solitary Confinement

After listening to this story from NPR on the radio, I found myself struggling with the idea of solitary confinement, and other ways that men are punished. One of my favorite quotes is this one, by Eugene Debs: "While there is a lower class I am in it; while there is a criminal element I am of it; while there is a soul in prison, I am not free”. This is what I contemplated as I listened. I thought of the fact that we only get one chance on this earth, one chance to make a life that fulfills us. And to think that one mistake (granted, one huge mistake) would warrant 36 years in a solitary cell 23 hours a day, after a trial that was biased by prejudice. I find it so tragic that a human life can be thrown away so easily, even if it is the life of a murderer. Now, don't get me wrong, murderers should be punished. However, I disagree with this idea of solitary confinement, and I disagree with our inherently unjust justice system, and I disagree with the idea that criminals never get second chances. Especially if it is only because of their race. I am an idealist, and ideally, I would live by Debs' quote, and consider myself not to be free while one human life rots in a cell. However, it is a corrupt world in which we live, and it would take a mighty wind to reverse the dangerous course of our justice system. Can this wind ever begin to blow?

Freedom Writers

I just finished watching "Freedom Writers", a film about a teacher who united students who were expected to fail, and made it possible for them to succeed. Of course, I was inspired by this true story. It made me think about all the wonderful teachers that I have had, especially Ms. Smith. I am a student assistant for her this year, and I have found out some amazing things. I already knew the lasting effects of Smith's compassion and devotion to her students through personal experience, but I learned the depth of her compassion when reading through the comments of some of her non-honors freshman students. Though the grammar was hardly perfect, the voices of these sometimes forgotten students was clear. They wanted her to know that she meant something to them. There was one student in particular, who admitted that he was not trying as hard as he could be in school. He talked of how much Ms. Smith had inspired him to do more with his mind. He talked about his desire to succeed in her class, because he believed in what she was teaching him, and he finally believed in himself. I remember going through the rest of the day wishing that every teacher could have that kind of an effect on their students. My school has many amazing teachers, most of whom care deeply about each and every one of their students. But I still worry about those kids who do not get the opportunities that I have in my amazing classes. I worry that they have been told all their lives that they cannot rise above, and that they must fail, because that is what they have always done. They settle for D's just because they are not F's (Ms. Smith has found a way around that of course!) and they hate every day that they have to walk through the doors of this amazing school. People blame it on video games, TV, and many other elements of modern culture., but very rarely do we blame it on the ideology that they have carried with them since that first F, the ideology that tells them of their incompetence, because they must be stupid if they cannot pass that one class, or even that one test. It starts with one grade, or one comment, or one lack of a comment, and it turns into a hopeless life. How do we change this? I don't have the answer to that question, but I do know this: teachers like Ms. Smith can, and will change the lives of their students by showing them that they are not failures, and that at least one person cares about them. It is inspiring to know that these people still exist, and that I get to walk the same halls as them every day of the week.

Frederick Douglass

Our English class read The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave this past week. It had been a while since my peers and I had discussed racism, not since freshman year. We have been having some interesting discussions on race in America. For the student opening activity that my group is doing on Chapter 11, I created this blog which will lead the students to a fishbowl on the discussion tomorrow (Wednesday) at around 1:15. If you are up for a discussion, jump in, or just read the interesting comments that are sure to pop up. I love that our teacher is allowing us to teach each other this book, because I really enjoyed creating this blog and I think we really understand the implications of his text.

A Return to Reading

After taking a transcendental mini-trip to the glorious mountains, I came home full of disappointment that I could not live among the trees here at home. I was disgusted at the prospect of watching a pointless TV program, and I felt the need to open my mind a little and walk around in the many unfurnished rooms of my imagination. I opened up the fragrant pages of Brave New World and finished what I had started only two days earlier. What a wonderful novel, I highly recommend it. After finishing that, I searched through my bookshelves (which are alphebatized and entered into a spreadsheet, hehe) and decided that now would be a good time, after having just watched "Into the Wild", to read the book that inspired it by Jon Krakauer. Ever since discovering the life of Chris McCandless in my English class, I was fascinated and enthralled by his journey and his ideals. It was hardly challenging for me to embark on this short book, and it was a wonderful experience. I started reading it at 7:00 on Wednesday night, and it was finished by 12:00 the next morning (that included about nine hours of restful sleep, mind you). After consuming this extraordinary story of survival, I decided to continue my journey into the mind of McCandless by reading one of his favorite books, Dr. Zhivago. I'm a little more than a hundred pages in, and I'm loving it. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I have returned to reading after a few months that were littered with other mundane activites that inevitably come with high school life, and I am happy to be back. By the way, if you, my dear reader, are ever in the mood for a four way connection between some great books, read On the Road, Anthem, Into the Wild, and Walden. Your mind may tire a little, but it is so worth it to find the plethora of parallels between these wonderful pieces of literature!

PSAT...rific!

Today I took the PSAT, which is ironic because I was taking the practice test for a practice test of the SAT, even though I already took the SAT for practice in 8th grade! It's funny the way these things happen. I have always been opposed to standardized tests, but eager to be successful when I get back my scores. I always take risks, writing essays (though not for the PSAT) that answer the prompt, but in a creative and roundabout way. I am not a nervous test taker, and I never feel "pressed" for time. Today, I found myself staring at a sentence in the writing portion, knowing which answer I should put down but wanting to reword the sentence completely. I thought to myself, pencil in hand, "Wouldn't it be great if I could just rewrite this sentence in my own words in a way that makes more sense?" I'm sure many people have felt this way about similar sections, but then again, who isn't at least a little dissatisfied with standardized tests (besides those who write them)? Of course, I will continue making myself into a score until I apply for college, eager yet dissatisfied. Maybe someday "they" will understand that each student is an individual, and that quantifying that individuality is a crime against education. But then again, maybe someday we'll ride hovercrafts, you just never know!

Sophomore Year...

It wasn't until I reached this year that I realized how fortunate I was in all of my classes as a Freshman. I had a history teacher who understood that her role as a teacher was not to tell us what to think, but to encourage us TO think. I had an English teacher who pushed the boundaries of education, encouraging us to become "professional learners" who cared more about the big picture and the personal growth than the grades or standardized tests. I feel like I had my own little team, a support group that showed me why and how education can work for me, instead of the other way around. After a summer of personal discovery and intellectual growth, I came back to the same amazing place where I had learned so much the year before, only to find myself back in the very same setting that I thought I had escaped. The first day of school, I entered history class, eager to see how cultures of the world interacted with one another. I was, sadly, dissapointed by a teacher who seems to care little about his students and even less about their learning growth. The class consists of an endless barrage of notes, memorization, and regurgitation of useless information. There is no discussion, and I feel like the world is getting smaller instead of larger. He might as well be standing 200 feet away speaking through a microphone for how much he listens to our opinions. Math is, as ever, seemingly useless. It consists of notes, problems, and tests over and over again in a never-ending cycle. I get through it, but somehow miss the point. Chemistry is hardly cohesive, jumping from subject to subject and laden with busywork that I see no point to, except for the insuing grade. For all of my whining, there is one thing to rejoice in, my Honors American Literature with a wonderful teacher who challenges us to read between the lines and forget about the grade. I feel free in her class and even if I didn't need to be there every day, I would go.

I guess the point of my little rant is this, I am fed up with an education system that seems to care nothing about me as an individual, instead caring only about me as a test score. I am tired of infinate campus (which is hardly infinite), teachers who are afraid of change, and tests that simply show how well we can retain the one-sided lectures of our old-fashioned teachers. I want a teacher, like my two wonderful English teachers, who is there to guide, not to dictate. I want a teacher who understands that grades are not the end all, be all. I want to come to a school where my excitement over a recently read novel is not looked down upon by my peers, but respected and even common. I want every teacher to embrace technology instead of fear it, and give us every opportunity to explore ourselves and the world of learning. Only through highly personalized education can we combat drop-out rates and careless students.

I feel alone in my student body, one of the only remaining students who looks forward to meaningful assignments and learning. We need a change, and we need it now.