Gettin' Serious in the Classroom

Ahhh… The joys of debate. Ridiculed by actual athletes and cherished by those with no other release. Tis a sport of the ages; necessary for politically aspiring youth and radical individuals that prefer respect. But how do events turn in your everyday classroom? It’s surprising how involved a forced group of students can find themselves.

Classroom debates aren’t new to me. As a seventh grader especially we participated in debates representing everyone from political candidates to corporations wanting land. But in a middle school classroom riddled by performance anxiety and the low self-image most MACATs had, emotions and meaningful progress were hard to infer.

Yesterdays debate was different. Either people didn’t care, and thus acted accordingly; relaxed and calm, or people were way over-zealoused and created chaos for the more focused students. Surprisingly, the different personalities balanced the room out. I found the debate stimulating and educational, but regret that it ended so soon.

Looking back on the actual war, I think every party involved is guilty against their enemy. The whole international community refused any responsibility, although they claim to care about everyone. There was a serious lack of aide from capable countries like the United States and Germany (not portrayed, but definitely to blame considering previous German involvement in the country).

When the U.S. brought up Somalia for the twentieth time I was about to pull my hair out. If the situation in Somalia was bad enough to require help, then the situation in Rwanda was surly just as deserving. All that’s without even mentioning that no one cares about a stupid hole the U.S. got themselves into a few years ago. The situation was the Rwandan Genocide, and if they weren’t going to help they weren’t going to help, but there’s no way you can justify that. In fact, the U.S. looked even more chicken for not helping because of Somalia; it showed that they played favors over equally struggling African countries.

Within the country the rebel groups were just insane.

There is no logical justification for the massacre of Tutsis. The MRND said the Tutsis met their fait for invading “hutu” territory, as if the land belonged to a particular ethnic group. This isn’t Israel. The Interhamwe also offered a favorite excuse of, “ We were brainwashed by the radio station.”. Considering the systematic way in which MRND propaganda was broadcast, this claim has some validity. However, every individual must choose for themselves whether or not they will kill their neighbors because of who has what identity card.

I don’t understand why the RPF went into Rwanda in the first place. Yes, they had to protect their people, but in attempting that they lost thousands of people. Isn’t there a point where you say, okay, let’s try something else? But because they were so small of an… offensive front, I can’t really blame them for anything, or the people that helped them [Uganda ;)].

But the question still remains, and was unfortunately left for military dominance to answer in the actual conflict. What can we do now?

Today's American Scholar

We are still a society suffering from lack of mental challenge.

Yesterday I babysat for a nine year old boy. His mom asked me to make sure he did his boys scout assignment, which was read four pages about citizenship and find an article about local government. After he said he read the pages, I asked him simple questions from the sheet and he couldn’t answer them. He said the questions I asked, using direct words from the book were too confusing. He couldn’t even take information in and put it back out the same way he saw it on the page, which is the one thing we are holding on to as proof of our education system. Yes, we can ask plenty of questions as we saw in class today, but we can’t come up with supported, realistic answers. Also, we are able to ask questions because of our argumentative nature, not necessarily because we want to learn. No one asks questions in math, where they won’t get some public gain from it.

Those are just examples of kids in school, but this inability translate information into intelligent conversations exists throughout all American culture today. As Ralph Waldo Emerson says, “The state of society is one in which the members have suffered amputation from the trunk, and strut about so many walking monsters-a good finger, a neck, a stomach, and elbow, but never a man.” We can’t come together and express ideas as a culture because we’re so focused on ourselves. If people were able to understand, sympathize and relate to others, no matter what how specified our careers and lives became, we could come back together and be ‘one man’. Though I doubt we will ever be able to come back to that.

Goodbye Candy?

One of life’s most painful rites of passage is letting go of Trick-Or-Treating. I’ve said before that its one of my most favorite holidays, and that holds true, but the looming fact that one day I’ll have to give it up is uber depressing.
This year my immune system scammed me out of the deal. I had strep throat that was progressively getting worse because I left it untreated, and in fact was working myself harder than usual in spite of the stinging pain in my throat. By Saturday it caught up to me so much that I could no longer deny it. I was exhausted and in pain even though I’d started antibiotics already; so much for a rainy, windy, cold night of collecting free candy.
I already had my costume all planned out, and haven’t had the heart to accept that I missed Halloween and put it away. I also didn’t carve the pumpkin, but that, unlike my imperishable costume, is about to rot a whole through my dining room table. I can’t wait until next year and pretend this Halloween never happened, which means I have to accept that it’s not the end of the world to miss my candy snatching, feet aching tradition.
Next year I’ll probably go out anyway. My costume will probably still fit and I’m likely to look just as old or just as young depending on how high I make my voice and how eager I make my face when I say, “Trick-Or-Treat!”. But how long after that can I keep going? Mrs. Walega says she’ll give candy to anyone in costume, no matter what the age, but no way is she accepting the “This hat is my costume.” gig. Other teachers, however, talk about how we’re too old in high school to go trick or treating. So which is it? I don’t need other people to validate my opinion, but I do need an appropriate amount of research on who will actually give me candy when I ask for it.
Two years ago I probably should have known I was growing out of Trick-Or-Treating when I asked for a water bottle instead of the unopened, chilled cans of Pepsi one house had on their front lawn. Knowing what is good for you, what you need, and wanting something with no flavor but major health benefits takes a lot of the magic out of All Hallows Eve. So I don’t know how I feel about my own growing up right now, but I do know that I love Baby Ruth and Three Musketeers (who by the way always have adult women in their “guilt free” commercials) with all my heart.

A Lack of Meaning

Budget cuts affect students more than any political high horse in Lansing could dream. Limited funding takes away from the richness of a learning and turns schools into forced institutions rather than valuable life experience.

I first noticed something was up with the school district when in fifth grade the A.I. (Autistic Impaired) program at my school suddenly disappeared. My curiosity for people not like me and need to nurture made me closer to the kids in that program than many of my “peers”.

One boy in particular stuck out. Maybe because he was younger, maybe because I could related to him more, but most likely because of how he felt about me. For any reason, I remember Jacob very well. He had light, light hair and very pale skin. He was a little shorter than the ridiculous “intercom” on the upper-el playground. He wore the most peculiar ring around his neck that he sometimes chewed or sucked. His teacher said it was because he ground his teeth.

Initially I was drawn by how babyish he was. In his first year at McKinley, he was anywhere between five and eight, but he acted more like a one year old. Here enters my need to nurture.

So I followed him around the play ground for a day or two and “helped” him with the playground equipment. I asked all kinds of questions of the A.I. teachers, but they were for some reason unhappy about my curiosity. Their attitude towards me was so strange; in fact, I ignored it until they broke my heart.

The teacher I only remember from her wrinkled face and Bride of Frankenstein hairdo decided it was a bad idea for me to play with Jacob, and told me I wasn’t allowed to anymore. I brushed it off like I did with all upsetting things at the time, and put it aside to ponder later.

The next day I was sitting on the chains that I loved to balance on or swing from or hang upside on. Today, I was just sitting. The night away from school hadn’t been enough to pick me up.

I don’t think he was looking for me. It’s hard enough for a normal five year old to remember someone without any reason to, or hint about it. But when he stumbled across me I got up to walk away. I was literally turning around, and Jacob grabbed my hand.

As you can imagine, the Bride of Frankenstein was not pleased. She looked at me with a scowl as Jacob led me around to his favorite part of recess- climbing up the stairs and running across the bridge. I was flustered and at a loss of words when she opened her mouth, but my loyal friend came to my aid with, “He came to her.” The woman looked puzzled, then pleased. It should have struck me as strange, but I was so excited to have my friend back and still upset with her that all I could think of was escape.

The year after that was fifth grade. On the first day of recess I ran expectantly to the playground, only to find it empty for all I was concerned. After two days of a no-show, I peeked into the A.I. room to find it empty.

Again I was crushed, but I was too big now to fuss over my emotions.

The rest of the year was lacking something I now understand to be depth. When everyone in your environment is a bird of the same feather, it’s hard to find individual personality. Merging the elementary schools only increased this affect, but that is another topic for another blog.

If we want to mold well rounded, unique and sympathetic children, we can’t afford to cut special programs. If the goal, however, is to produce ill adjusted, apathetic drive by shooters, budget cuts are the way to go.

I would opt for the first, and be willing to lay the ground work for a better future, even if it means less money for state prisons and poorer roads. Unfortunately, what I want for myself and my future children, my niece and nephew, doesn’t match up with what the present generation wants for themselves.

New car anyone? How ‘bout an all interest mortgage?

My Take on World Hunger

You go throughout your entire day satisfied and nourished. Your mind is running on all cylinders and your stomach is calm and quiet. Never once do you wonder how else it could be. Never once do you have to ignore a growling stomach. Never once have you given up your food so that a younger sibling or your own child could eat.

This is not the case for millions of people worldwide. Men, women, and children go without food or even clean water on a regular basis. People here, in Livonia; people up the freeway in Detroit; people across the Atlantic in Europe, struggling through wars and nuclear accidents that cause devastation and, you guessed it, hunger. Starving people live near and far, all around the world. But many of the more fortunate people can only see the distended bellies of children in Africa.

World hunger is the most ridiculous, unnecessary, cruel problem we have today. There is enough food to go around, but people are selfish, ignorant, and unable to understand issues that don’t affect them. Human services groups are often turned away in countries that purposely want to starve their citizens.

Take Darfur for example. The government punished the citizens for protesting because of their awful policies by denying them food, help from other countries and even sending gangs to kill any citizens they can. Thankfully, there are some relief camps, but relief camps cannot solve all our problems and cannot last forever.

I think there is a lot more work going on today to help the hungry then there was in the past. Groups like UNICEF( http://www.unicefusa.org/work/), World Vision (http://www.worldvision.org/), and FreeRice, (www.freerice.com/), are working hard to help hungry people in many different ways. They are all organizations Americans can be a part of, and even children can help with. FreeRice is my personal favorite, because it teaches you languages, geography, math, and art while you help donate food.

The trouble now, when we have sufficient supplies to feed, clothe, employ, and house struggling people in broken down nations, is getting relief groups into the country and working on ground level to turn things around. I don’t think its too much to ask of powerful governments (take U.S. for example) to step in, even if they are unwelcome, and fix this problem.

It’s not too much of a stretch for us to invade Iraq for absolutely no reason. It’s not too much of a struggle for us to invade Afghanistan when they killed all of 3,000 people. Yet it’s too much for our government to invade countries that are starving their people. Or even to provide enough aide for people within the United States that are hungry.

Friend Dumping

Just before I walked into the computer lab for my fourth hour class, I was disturbed by an all too true comment. I had provided a "letter of grievance" that I tried to defend as a note to someone I usually call my favorite person. Its important for you to know this isn't because I like them more than anyone else. Its more of a admiration of their perspective, even though I often disagree. Anyhow, he was not pleased to address my grievance but has been caving a lot (comparatively) recently to my requests either out of lack of sleep, or my preferred theory, response to my endearing nature.

My problem was his insistence on doing the one thing that bothers me. By bothers I don't mean the same as irks, or upset or any of the other words I commonly use to spice up an opinion but don't really mean. By bothers I mean something that shakes me to the core; something that I take seriously. And said person has been not only doing the one thing that really bothers me, but I believe genuinely enjoying the reaction it takes a lot to get.

So aside from my true admiration for my favorite person, there is a bit of camaraderie that I value but I'm not sure if they do.... Its on a level with personal experiences that are hard to understand unless you have them in common. In fact, I have not yet found someone that can really understand it if they haven't experienced it themselves, and half the people who have deny the ramifications. So I appreciate what I assume they understands about me, and what I think I understand about them.

In response to my grievance, which I craftily posed as a question, they said, "You're right, I'm a complete blank. You should friend dump me. "

Now, I hope you understand how serious of a loss that would be. This is, after all, my favorite person. But its got me thinking about how common these scenarios go down. Usually without as clear a procedure, leaving people not only at a loss, but confused as to why.

How many teenagers are going around lost and confused? How many lost teenagers carry that into adult hood? How many adults pass those feelings on to their children?

It has recently been assigned to me to examine my own pattern of pushing people away. The whys, the whens, the hows. Its not pretty. But neither are other people's patterns. One person said to me, "If you don't like freaks, walk away right now." Innocent enough, and even a bit "clever" when considered amongst their close friends. But how serious is that below surface level?

I don't know.... It just bothers me how reckless people have become about their relationships. I don't think I'll turn my back on my favorite person. There has to be a way to make things work.

Fake It 'tIll You Make It

I walked over the threshold with clouded eyes. My body had been up for two hours but my eyes apparently had not. People came in disjointed parts; a head… a finger… a knee. The clock on the wall ticked by and I silently reminded myself not to fidget. Five… Ten… Fifteen minutes…

The teacher didn’t show up until three minutes after the first bell, and made a point to apologetically read her own sign about punctuality. I found myself in front of a basic seating chart with pictures instead of names. My face was in the back row, three over from the cabinets or three over from the windows, which is truly a gift for someone as directionally impaired as me. I was still pleased when I walked up the wrong isle and had to slide between the hard plastic chair and the wall, so it didn’t bother me a lick.

I didn’t realize my muscles had been slightly shaking until they started to stop. The desk was like a wall between me and the rest of the class and I took comfort in that. If I kicked one leg out and rested it on the metal supports I might look even more relaxed, so I tried that and prayed it helped a bit. Slouching was difficult when I wanted to hear what was going on, but it was probably not cool to sit up straight, and they were already going to think I was a nerd because I was a freshmen in a class of mostly sophomores and juniors. I used my lounging leg to force my back into the chair. How anyone could find it comfortable is a mystery to me.

The teacher passed out a syllabus everyone neglected to pick up on the way in. It was very simple, like the seating chart. One sided with bullet points of important information. I was starting to get an impression of this class that my mother would not approve of, but came as a breath of fresh air compared to the three to five pages of specific instructions passed out by every teacher in my MACAT classes. The words “Easy peasy.” slipped into my psyche, and I didn’t bother to refute them.

I straightened up infinitesimally because it was becoming downright uncomfortable to lean back so much and rolled my shoulders out as nonchalantly as I could. I couldn’t tell you a single thing the teacher said after the first ten minutes but I looked at her almost exclusively; unlike anyone else. When I did slip away from her fierce eye contact there wasn’t much to see. Some of the kids were on the verge of sleep. Her posters all talked about success and might as well have been black and white. I was better off watching the teacher and her pleading eyes even if I didn’t bother to take notice of her moving lips.

Anyhow, the time did pass and the bell did ring, miraculously. I got out of my seat slowly and made my own pace to the door. Gym might be fun. My teacher there was the same from seventh grade, and she was quick to make a joke.

Absentmindedly my arms started to swing, and like they will, every five steps or so, my legs did a little hop.

Alphabet Introduction

A

As a firm believer in a healthy lifestyle, I eat an Apple everyday. Usually I like Gala apples because they bruise less than others, or the Golden Delicious. I don’t like Granny Smith apples because they are very sour, and my mom likes mackintosh, but they seem really mushy to me.

B

Because I don’t get an allowance I try to do a lot of Babysitting. Right now I have a job on some weeknights watching a nine year old while his mom goes to work meetings. He is really rambunctious, so we have to do lots of activities before I ask him to do his homework, which his mother usually puts on me to do. I also babysit a one and a half year old that’s my sisters friends kid. He is so cute and I get paid ridiculous amounts because they stay out late.

C

Currently I consider myself Christian. Of course, things like that tend to change quickly with me.

D

Daffodils are my favorite flower. They don’t give off too much pollen or weird smell, and they’re yellow which is really pretty. I think most people don’t like them because they’re cheap, but I don’t care about that.

E

Everyday over the summer I made Eggs. They cook really quickly so I had to watch them close, but it was interesting to throw around different herbs and spices. The reason you’ve never seen eggs with garlic is because it doesn’t taste good, and of course I learned that the hard way.

F

For one of my electives, I’m taking French 2. Le francais est le meilleur beau langue. J’aime mon classe de francais trés beaucoup!!! Je aussi joue de la Flute.

G

Green is my favorite color. It started off as dark green, like a green Crayola crayon, but I’m starting to appreciate the different shades of green. My nails are actually a neon green color right now. I’m also in the Stevenson GSA and like posting “graphity” on my friend's Facebooks.

H

My name is Heather. My mom wanted to name me Bridget, but my sister picked Heather so she used it. I’m pretty happy with it because I’ve only met three other Heathers in my life. Its a type of flower that I think is mostly in the U.K. and comes in white and purple naturally.

I

It Irks me when people walk on the wrong side of the hallway, even though I do it sometimes when I’m trying to get to the other side. It slows down traffic and has gotten me into a few colissions. I’ve thought for a few years now that every school should have stop lights and stuff in the halls at busy intersections, which is pretty much everywhere except D hall.

J

Jammin’ is one of my favorite pass times, whether its with other people or by myself. I like (heehee) roots rock and alternative… ska… (all of which you can in fact jam to if you set your mind to it) and like everyone else, hip-hop. “Jams “ are really important to me… its like music speaks to my soul, and in fact I usually can’t keep from dancing.

K

Kittens are so cute. I got Kiki, who is technically not a kitten any more, in February two years ago. She was six weeks old. I remember her belly was huge compared to the rest of her body because she snuck dog food at her last house. Her tail also stuck straight up for almost a month after we got her. I also have a dog named Kimba, who is middle aged right now. She’s named after my mom’s favorite kid show, Kimba the White Lion. I’ve only ever seen a movie of it that I wasn’t into that much. That just reminded me, Kiki is named after a witch that finds herself in her only skill, which she doesn’t start off good at, flying. The movies an Asian anime called Kiki’s Delivery service. I loved watching that (and still kinda do) when I get sick. It just makes me feel better.

L

Love is the meaning of life. Who cares about 42? Knowing the numbers of the Universe won't make it any easier to navigate.

M

Michelle is my middle name, my niece Kayla’s middle name, and my nephew Drake’s is Michael. The story of it came from my brother. He used to play with dolls and trolls and tell stories about them. He said when he grew up he would buy a trailer and live by the river and have a hundred kids named Michael and Michelle. He was really upset that I was a girl when I was born because he already had two older sisters that picked on him enough, so my mom let him pick my middle name. When Drake was born, my sister’s first kid, she let me pick his middle name, and so the tradition began.

N

Night is my favorite time to do things. The feeling of being out in the dark sets off some kind of fun button in my brain and I make some of my best, uninhibited memories.

O

Openness has always been my philosophy, but I won't preach that its right. Occasionally I replace idealistic ideals with what works in the real world. But it's all good. Okra is my "nickname", given to me at random by a kid I barely knew but really wanted to. I still use it as my own inside joke sometimes. I usually spell it with a C though, because when I first started I didn't know the right way and Ocra sounded right.

P

Painting is perfect for my creative days. I usually don't make a masterpiece. Heehee. That is a bit of an overstatement. I'm not very good. But I still like to paint none the less.

Q

I went through a phase of making up words, and the one that stuck the most is Quirpy. It was the most useful because it described a situation many of my awkward friends and I found ourselves in. Basically it means, you have said something about someone else that wasn't intended to offend them, because it is blatantly obvious anyway, but ends up offending them. Then the phrase you used and the situation you find yourself in are both Quirpy.

R

Most of my free time is spent Reading. Yeah, I know how nerdy that is, but it keeps my attention more and has more feeling that watching TV. I like to imagine what's happening in a book and feel what the characters are feeling. I guess its a bit of escapism, but I would probably be reading anyway even if that wasn't the case.

S

Several people have commented on my habit of bursting into Song. Its not random, no matter how strong a case has been made against that. My singing is usually related to something a person has said, as in, they have the same word in them no matter how otherwise unrelated the two sentences may be.

T

Trick-or-Treating is one of my very few upheld traditions. I suppose that is why I like it the most. Some of my earliest memories are from trick or treating, from back when I was two and three even though I don't remember anything else from that age. Its also the first memory I have of my aunt Mary. I went to her house to Trick-or-Treat and we dumped all the candy on the floor to trade. The next day I asked if I could go back and do it all again.

U

I keep an Asian Umbrella above my bed. Its pink, with flowers painted on it. At the store I wanted a blue one, but it wouldn't open all the way so the lady wouldn't sell it to me. Between four and nine I had an obsession with umbrellas. I had one of those plastic ones with the rounded ends. All I remember was that the ends were yellow. Then when I got older I wanted a big one that would cover me and my backpack while I walked to school. And by big I mean huge. This thing was more than half my height when I got it. Now I obviously still like umbrellas, but I've taken to one we had since the 80s that has a zebra strip pattern.

V

Vintage clothes are like gold to me. I don't mean the bad kind. The fashion mishaps that never should've happened. I like the good stuff like Olivia Newton John's ending outfit in Grease. I actually used to have a poodle skirt when I was eleven that had a record or a poodle on the back or something.... I loved it very much, but the more I love something the more I wear it, and that does not equal preservation.

W

Water can quickly mesmerize me. It actually has an electric pull towards the oxygen in our bodies, and while that is just amazing to me, I can understand why people have little patience for it.

X

Xanthous, a fancy word for yellow is one of my favorite colors. I hinted on that it reminds me of childhood. Its also like tangible energy. And yellow water color works so well to brighten up a picture or even make it look like there's light coming off something specific.

Y

Yearning for something to do this past summer, I stumbled across Yoga. Its one of the best things I've accidentally done, then purposely followed through with. I'm so much more flexible, balanced (it is quite pathetic how much I used to, and sometimes still, fall or trip or slip or skid), and calm (if and when I want to be).

Z

My biggest fear is of Zombies. I don't care if it is "impossible" to come back to life and eat people after you get bit by a person. My brother got into zombie games and movies when I was very impressionable, and old habits die hard.