Monday, March 18, 2013
3.18.13
Some days you just hear a really good song and it rocks your world.
Some days your nine year-old brother asks you what he should give his girlfriend, and you're like whaaaa?
Some days you have to spill out grand soliloquies detailing your recent epiphanies when no one is around and inadvertently burn your sandwich.
Some days are Mondays. And somehow, they kind of don't suck.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
I cried in French today.
And not even because French "sounds like people trying to gargle marbles".
Today in my French class (which seemed like a romantic idea to take at the beginning of the year), someone made a remark that was worthy of a Texas bumper sticker. "I think everyone in America should be fluent in English." Mme La Prof* stopped her lesson on how to say our nationalities and ethnicities en français and gave a much needed lecture on such ignorant statements. It went something like this:
"I don't care what political party you align with, you could be the most conservative person in the world, or even on the opposite end of the spectrum, but we all need some empathy. When you see someone standing at McDonald's, struggling to get their order straight, with a heavy accent and a fresh citizenship, think twice before you start judging. You guys are complaining to me about how French people and Canadians discriminate against you when you travel to their homelands, yeah? Because you're not fluent in their tongue, are you? Things aren't so easy when you don't have the upper hand."
The class was silent, and the girl who made the remark was suddenly sheepish.
"Look, there are some countries where women are completely subjugated. You might not understand that because we live in a pretty progressive country, but there are countries where women don't get the opportunity to come to school like all of you." This struck a chord with me, as a huge enthusiast for women's rights, and moreover just fundamental human rights. "So they get the chance to come to this country, to work hard, not for themselves. They never had that primary or secondary education, no, they're here for their daughters. So that their daughters can go to high school, get a degree, find a career they're passionate about, and get married, if that's what they choose, because they want to. Not because they have to."
I cried in French today, and it wasn't even because of how much I hate conjugating verbs.
My mother's parents immigrated to America from Mexico. Neither of my grandparents had the opportunity to get a secondary education, as they were forced to work as child laborers. They came to the US just before my mother was born. I can never express how grateful I'll be to them for taking such a huge step for the sake of their daughter, and futhermore, their grandchildren. I guess that short little lecture woke me up a bit. I've always considered myself to be a feminist, but that small moment where we were all just listening to my teacher was profound for me. It solidified everything I believe in, and as Sylvia Plath might say, it touched a human string in the cat's cradle of my heart. It made me realize how lucky I am to have the things I have. I've never considered marriage, as it's not really a priority to me. I've never wanted kids, simply because I feel that sort of life would never equate to happiness for me. I've always thought of myself as a freethinker, but today I realized just what that meant. I have the opportunity to do the things I want-work hard in school, study the things I'm passionate about, become what I wish to be, and seek happiness (whatever that turns out to be). I have that opportunity and I'm not letting go of it. I just wish that everyone had that same chance to pursue their happiness.
And let the record show that by crying, I mean a few tears escaped. It was merely a physical reaction to an emotional stimulus.
Illustration credits to Nick Lu
*my teacher
Today in my French class (which seemed like a romantic idea to take at the beginning of the year), someone made a remark that was worthy of a Texas bumper sticker. "I think everyone in America should be fluent in English." Mme La Prof* stopped her lesson on how to say our nationalities and ethnicities en français and gave a much needed lecture on such ignorant statements. It went something like this:
"I don't care what political party you align with, you could be the most conservative person in the world, or even on the opposite end of the spectrum, but we all need some empathy. When you see someone standing at McDonald's, struggling to get their order straight, with a heavy accent and a fresh citizenship, think twice before you start judging. You guys are complaining to me about how French people and Canadians discriminate against you when you travel to their homelands, yeah? Because you're not fluent in their tongue, are you? Things aren't so easy when you don't have the upper hand."
The class was silent, and the girl who made the remark was suddenly sheepish.
"Look, there are some countries where women are completely subjugated. You might not understand that because we live in a pretty progressive country, but there are countries where women don't get the opportunity to come to school like all of you." This struck a chord with me, as a huge enthusiast for women's rights, and moreover just fundamental human rights. "So they get the chance to come to this country, to work hard, not for themselves. They never had that primary or secondary education, no, they're here for their daughters. So that their daughters can go to high school, get a degree, find a career they're passionate about, and get married, if that's what they choose, because they want to. Not because they have to."
I cried in French today, and it wasn't even because of how much I hate conjugating verbs.
My mother's parents immigrated to America from Mexico. Neither of my grandparents had the opportunity to get a secondary education, as they were forced to work as child laborers. They came to the US just before my mother was born. I can never express how grateful I'll be to them for taking such a huge step for the sake of their daughter, and futhermore, their grandchildren. I guess that short little lecture woke me up a bit. I've always considered myself to be a feminist, but that small moment where we were all just listening to my teacher was profound for me. It solidified everything I believe in, and as Sylvia Plath might say, it touched a human string in the cat's cradle of my heart. It made me realize how lucky I am to have the things I have. I've never considered marriage, as it's not really a priority to me. I've never wanted kids, simply because I feel that sort of life would never equate to happiness for me. I've always thought of myself as a freethinker, but today I realized just what that meant. I have the opportunity to do the things I want-work hard in school, study the things I'm passionate about, become what I wish to be, and seek happiness (whatever that turns out to be). I have that opportunity and I'm not letting go of it. I just wish that everyone had that same chance to pursue their happiness.
And let the record show that by crying, I mean a few tears escaped. It was merely a physical reaction to an emotional stimulus.
Illustration credits to Nick Lu
*my teacher
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Get Louder
 |
| Said book in all its glory |
 |
| I'm thinking I'll do some sort of stop motion with all these cranes soon. |
As I was skimming through the novel, I stumbled on this really great quote. I read it completely out of context so it was probably just something a guitarist said to a drummer, but I took it to mean something kind of profound.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Friday Nights with Bill and Ray
This is the sort of thing that ensues when I get bored in English.
(In a bar somewhere in Chicago, two men in their late twenties lament about their mundane problems. All over a few beers.)
Bill: She was the type of person that got tattoos that said "peace" or something in Chinese.
Ray: You're kidding me. (has a tattoo of marijuana on his neck)
Bill: Not even. And you know what's really rich?
Ray: Hmm?
Bill: She said she was a Sagittarius within ten seconds of introducing herself.
Ray: HAHAHA!
Bill: That just about made me get up and leave and make her pay for her damn tempeh, but, you know...
Ray: I know. But you're a nice guy.
Bill: Something like that.
Ray: (shakes his head in frustration) Working at the burger joint is so tiring, man. It's like every day there's gotta be somebody that 's gotta take it out on me because they caught their boyfriend cheating or they got laid off or they dry cleaner screwed up their favorite suit. It's like, all I wanna know is if you want fries or onion rings, you know what I'm sayin'?
Bill: (nods sympathetically and takes a drink) I feel ya. The office is a drag too.
Ray: I get home, man, and it's a different side of me. At work I'm all smiles and "would you like ketchup with that?", but I walk in that front door and I gotta let it out. Try being quiet for once, calms you down. I've gotta relax sometimes, you know?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)