Sunday, May 18, 2014

In April

The winter harshened itself upon us more than it ever had this year. The biting cold and piercing flakes of snow cut the warmth of my skin. Winter’s wrath weakened my positivity, my happiness. December made me as cold as its air. My smile went unseen for winter’s entirety. I simply could not force myself to smile when there was nothing to smile about. The season made everything repugnant, as it was itself; especially people. I hated the way the trees looked when they were dead. I hated how the birds left the Midwest for southern warmth. I took a cursory glance at my calendar every morning in hopes that the season had changed. Until then, I excluded myself from all but my thoughts.
        Eventually, I was able to flip my calendar to the March page. I counted the days until the Solstice with anticipation. The hope that springtime’s approaching lended to me allowed me to reinstate myself back into extroverted affairs. During that time, I started to walk my labrador retriever again (as opposed to just letting her go in the backyard). Daisy was an old dog whom I adopted shortly after I obtained my MBA a year prior. She had been with me for about a year at this time. When I came back to Chicago from the west coast, I sought mainly two things: a job and a social life that didn’t include my parents. I refused to live with them in Irving Park so I moved to the South Loop. I had an apartment with one room, one bathroom, and an open-concept kitchen/living room. While I was happy to have my own place, I was lonely. Daisy filled this void.
        On our walks I would observe people as they passed me. People are interesting. The fact that no two people are exactly alike fascinates me.
        Weeks passed and I very much enjoyed taking these walks with Daisy as the changing, brisk wind blew against me. I knew it would soon be a warm, springtime wind. I looked forward to that.
        Soon came the beautiful, wonderful month of April. The sun shone so brightly above the blossoming trees and flowers. April was comforting and loving, which was what I needed most. It was on one of Daisy and I’s walks when I noticed someone sitting at a cafe across the street from me. She was young, like me. She had brunette hair that was in a bun. She wore a cropped red sweater with a floral skirt and Toms. For some unbeknownst reason, I found her fascinating. I observed her as Daisy started to pull me north on the block. She was sitting with her legs crossed, swinging her top leg until her foot hit under the table. I liked her and decided that I would cross the street at the end of the block so that I’d pass her. I did so several times. However, she didn’t look up because she was reading Pride and Prejudice, I noted.
I passed her for the fourth time hoping that somehow I could draw her attention away from the book. A pen dropped from the table next to hers and rolled to my feet.
“I think you dropped this,” I said as I handed the pen to her, “here.”
She smiled confusedly and thanked me. There was a brief, awkward silence as I stood there and she smiled at me.
“Austen’s a great writer, don’t you think?” I said.
“Yeah...yeah she’s great. I’m reading this for my English class.”
“Oh you’re in college! Where do you go?” I inquired, hoping that the conversation would last.
“I’m at UofC. I hate reading for school. I’m having such a hard time!” she exclaimed, her leg still swinging.
“I’m a college graduate myself. Maybe I can help you?” I sat down.
We talked for two hours that day about Elizabeth’s social standard and Darcy’s poor first impression, among other things relating to the novel. Daisy circled impatiently around my chair towards the end of the conversation and I figured I should leave. I told her goodbye as we exchanged cell numbers. She told me her name was Piper.
Piper and I texted and talked on the phone often for the next few weeks. Very often. We talked from when we first woke up to when we went to sleep. Every moment I had the opportunity to, I called her. I liked hearing her voice. We decided to meet up again at a park near my apartment. She told me to bring Daisy, so I did. We walked around the park and I admired the springtime weather. Daisy curiously played in the fields of red roses as we walked.
“I love springtime!” I said.
“I like it too but I think I actually prefer winter.” she responded. I was puzzled and asked why.
She said, “It’s beautiful. Have you ever seen a field of pure snow? Or icicles hanging from a tree’s branch? The cold outside makes indoors more fun. It makes me appreciate having a warm place. I love it.”
When she said this I started to love winter too. I began to imagine the pure white snow falling from the sky to the tips of branches. I thought. She was still smiling at me and the sun reflecting from her eyes made them sparkle. I smiled back at her agreeingly and we continued to walk. After a few more rotations around the park, we decided to sit on a bench. I watched people go by as she spoke to me.
“I like you, Cory.” She said to me as I turned my head quickly and looked into her eyes.
“I like you too, Piper.” I smiled. I rested my hand on top of hers and she giggled. We sat together like this for a warm, joyful 10 minutes. It was 6 o’clock and I knew I had to go soon. I had work to catch up on before tomorrow, Monday. I told her so and her eyes looked sad although her mouth was still smiling.
“Ok,” she said, “you will call me later?”
I affirmed that I would call her and smiled. But, I didn’t know what to do after that. I leaned forward and saw the shock in her eyes as I did. I continued. She leaned forwards as well and my heart started to beat faster. I could feel it so heavy in my chest. We kissed. It was a long kiss. She smiled ecstatically afterwards and said goodbye. Then, we both went our separate ways. I smiled the entire walk home with Daisy.
I opened the door to my apartment building and winked at the security guard, Gary.
“Good day today?” he asked.
“You bet!” I replied as I hopped onto the elevator with Daisy. My legs were too tired to take the stairs, as I usually do. Daisy ran into the apartment as I opened the door, jumping onto her favorite loveseat. I headed to the refrigerator for a glass of water. I sat at my island’s stool and drank. I thought about where my relationship with Piper would go. I only thought of good times to come for us. I sat, thinking, for about 15 minutes. I couldn’t stop thinking about Piper.
As I pulled out my laptop to finish the financial models, I remembered I was supposed to call Piper. It was almost 7 and I didn’t want to call her too soon after leaving each other or too late. I decided 8:30 would be a good time to call her. I worked, inattentively, until then. I checked the time frequently. At 8:30 I called her. It rang several times before eventually going to voicemail. I didn’t know what to do. I continued to work for hours, waiting for a call I knew I wouldn’t receive. I questioned our relationship, myself, and my life in general. I was so flustered but I decided to go to sleep. I needed to rest before the start of the new week. I sat up for a couple hours before I finally fell asleep.
I woke up the next morning and frantically checked my phone. A text from Piper read “Sorry! I fell asleep lol.” I smiled at that and told her not to worry. I got cleaned up and dressed myself in a navy blue dress shirt, black tie with blue pinstripes, and black dress pants. Although no one else in the office wore a tie everyday, I felt the need to do. As Junior Financial Analyst of only a year, I was often held to a different standard than everyone else. I was okay with that. I took a Cliff Bar and left Daisy some fresh food and water for the day.
I grabbed my briefcase and headed for the bus. The entire ride to my office I thought about how silly it was of me to become so flustered about Piper not answering my calls. I laughed to myself sometimes and people glanced at me.
The work day was tough but texting Piper throughout it helped. It turns out my financial models were incorrect. The Senior Analyst, Seth, scolded me a bit for wasting time and money with incorrect models. When he left I ripped my notes and stared out the window at the springtime sun’s reflection off the buildings of downtown Chicago. When I told Piper, she helped me laugh about my screwup. It was good, sometimes, to take a breather and not stress yourself about things that were actually not that important. I worked on the revised financial models the entire day, until 8 - two hours past the end of my usual shift. I didn’t even finish the models that night.
Weeks and weeks passed and Piper and I got to know each other quite well. We met up often for dinner, beach dates, movies, etc. I really liked her and I could tell she felt the same way. The best part was our relationship was just starting to bloom, as time went on it would only blossom into a much more wonderful companionship.
I asked Piper to be my official girlfriend in late June. We were at Oak Street Beach, it was very hot. We shared a towel as an umbrella to protect us from the sun. I kissed her on the cheek several times and we laughed as we told jokes to one another. Spontaneously, in the midst of our laughter, I asked her if she wanted to be my girlfriend.
“Yes yes yes!” she said smiling, “I want nothing else.” I felt that I loved her, even though I’d only known her for about 2 months. We stayed at the beach together until after midnight. It was the best time I’d had with Piper so far. Piper grabbed my hand as we lay down on the shore of the beach. We listened to the waves crash against the sand. We enjoyed the silence that was only interrupted by nature. Piper and I simply enjoyed each other’s company.
Throughout the summer, we spent a lot of time with each other. Piper was all I ever thought about. I loved everything about her. She epitomized summer’s beauty and warmth; her smile, her eyes, her walk. Everything about her was beautiful. In July, I made sure she was aware of my love for her.
“Piper, I love you a lot.” I said. We were sitting on the couches of my apartment. She initially looked surprised at the randomness of my confession. But she smiled genuinely.
“I love you a lot too Cory. This has been so great.” she replied. Shortly after, we went for a walk with Daisy. She held Daisy’s leash this time and lead her around the park. We talked casually as we walked, enjoying the climax of summer. When we walked back to my apartment I opened the door and kissed her, expecting her to leave. She didn’t.
“Can I stay here tonight?” she said, almost nervously.
“Uh yeah, yeah. Come upstairs with me.” I muttered.
I made her spaghetti that night and we sat at my “dining room table” (a fold-out lawn table in my kitchen) and ate. We talked but the entire time thoughts raced through my head. I was nervous that she wanted to stay over. We watched TV, read, and talked until 1:00 that night, nervously and subconsciously avoiding my bedroom.
“I wanna lay down she said.” as she shot me a cursory glance but quickly looked away upon making eye-contact.
We went into my bedroom. I locked the door as if someone would walk in and interrupt what was going to take place. Whatever would take place. We enjoyed ourselves that night for the first time, together. To this day, I still consider that the best night of my life.
The summer went by fast. We enjoyed ourselves several nights a week together. We loved each other. It was the realest love I’d ever experienced. We told each other we loved each other everyday. We talked for several hours everyday. Piper and I were invincible together. She was the only person I truly cared for.
It was in late August when Piper’s senior year started. She was excited to graduate and I was excited for her as well. I worried about her life after college but I knew I’d be there to help her through whatever challenges she met. I thought I knew, at least. Because of our conflicting schedules, we didn’t get to see one another as often. She had schoolwork to do and I had a job to take care of. We still loved one another and talked but it wasn’t the same as the climactic summer we had together. We talked about the new atmosphere in our relationship in the beginning of October.
“Do you think things have changed a bit, Cory?” she asked me.
“Between us ,you mean? A little bit. We’re just busy is all. I still love you the same as always.” I said with a shrug.
“Mhm, of course. I just wanted to make sure.” she nodded.
Things had changed a lot actually. In only a few months of dating, I feel both of us had grown up. At the time, I talked myself out of those thoughts. I figured that it was probably just having to get back into the swing of things that was lessening my interest. I still loved her but “us” just wasn’t as special as it used to be. Exiting the honeymoon phase is a natural thing in all relationships. Fall introduced Piper and I to this change.
Fast forward to the middle of winter, January. As the weather cooled down so did my passion and love for Piper. She was irritating. She was clingy. I felt as if I had to force myself to love her. We talked as often as we did during the summer but now it felt like too much. I couldn’t tell that the cold winter weather was affecting our relationship. All I knew is that being with Piper felt obligatory. We were comfortable with one another to the point where we took each other for granted.
I noticed that being in a relationship with her made me unlike myself. I wasn’t interested in the same things and I was always irritable. She stressed me out to this state.
On Saturdays, Piper would come to my house and usually spend the night. On one of these nights, we were sitting watching TV. It was almost like we weren’t even together, we barely said anything. I was bored with her.
“Do you have food?” she said provocatively.
“No, I just swallow my spit all damn day.” I responded sarcastically
Her frowning face glared at me.
“You are really a jerk,” she got up, “I was trying to prompt you to fix me some food.”
“You know where the kitchen is, Piper. Go ahead. I’m not stopping you.”
“You used to care…” she muttered under her breath.
“What’d you say? I can’t hear you when you murmur like that.”
We argued a long time that night. I eventually kicked her out, slamming the door behind her. I heard her crying down the hallway to the stairs but I didn’t care at all. She deserved it.
Piper and I didn’t talk for at least 3 days after that Saturday night. It was our first real argument. After that, we talked only sporadically and when we were together we were uninterested in each other. We forced each other to be together because we used to love each other. The memory of our love seemed too much for us to give up. We tried to ignore the dire state of our relationship as it existed presently, but it eventually proved impossible.
A few months went by in which we were uninterested in one another. We still talked and we still said “I love you” but we didn’t really mean it. In early April, she called me, crying.
“Cory, cory, I love you. I want us to work. I miss you. I miss how things used to be. I miss talking all day and all night and being together and staying over and loving one another. Please, can we turn things around?” she said hysterically. I could barely understand her.
“No. No, Piper it doesn’t work that way. We can’t just decide we don’t hate each other anymore. My admiration is not a switch you can just turn on or off! This is months and months of problems building up. Things will never be the same. We can work on it, I guess. But it won’t be immediate.”
I knew saying this would upset her. She wanted me to come crying back to her as she tried to do. She wanted everything to be perfect. The fact that she thought that was realistic was annoying. I had to say no, it’s only the truth.
“Ugh Cory. It’s not that difficult! We can just love each other!” she was getting angry.
“No, I said.” I hung up.
Afterwards, I thought about Piper and I. I knew she was extremely stressed out and I wasn’t helping. I felt sorry for her. Her dad had died recently of a stroke, she was struggling to finish college, and I was treating her this way. It was too much for her. I cried a little bit knowing what I was putting her through. I couldn’t sleep. I texted her around 2 a.m.
“I’m sorry Piper. I know you want things to be as they were before but they can’t be, I don’t think so at least. I want them to so I will try as hard as I can. I shouldn’t have said no earlier. I’m sorry. Let’s meetup tomorrow?” I wasn’t expecting an immediate response.
After work that day, I still hadn’t received a response. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep if our argument wasn't resolved. I decided to pay her a visit. When I got there there were police cars parked outside. I saw her mother’s car parked outside the home. I tried to run inside and a police officer stopped me.
“Hold on, stop stop. What are you doing?” he inquired.
“What happened? My girlfriend lives here.”
He looked at me squarely and said, “I’m sorry. She’s gone she…”
“What do you mean gone?” I said. My eyes opened wide and I raised my voice.
“She shot herself in the chest at about 1:30 in the morning.”
I started to cry. I thought it couldn't be true. This was a nightmare. I ran up the front stairs into her house. I saw her mom crying in the front room. I couldn't stand to look at them. The police detectives were searching her home. I heard one say they had the pistol she used to shoot herself. I went upstairs to her room, the body was already removed but the blood was still on the hardwood floor. I opened her nightstand drawer. There was a note.
It read, “If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you has silenced me on this subject forever. I love you, goodbye.” she signed the date “April 3rd” on the bottom.
I cried uncontrollably as a detective put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me.
“I’m so sorry!” I wailed through my tears, “I’m sorry.”

She was gone.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

In April (work in progress)

    The winter harshened itself upon us more than it ever had this year. The biting cold and piercing flakes of snow cut the warmth of my skin. Winter’s wrath weakened my positivity, my happiness. December made me as cold as its air. My smile went unseen for winter’s entirety. I simply could not force myself to smile when there was nothing to smile about. The season made everything repugnant, as it was itself; especially people. I hated the way the trees looked when they were dead. I hated how the birds left the Midwest for southern warmth. I took a cursory glance at my calendar every morning in hopes that the season had changed. Until then, I excluded myself from all but my thoughts.
           Eventually, I was able to flip my calendar to the March page. I counted the days until the Solstice with anticipation. The hope that springtime’s approaching lended to me allowed me to reinstate myself back into extroverted affairs. During that time, I started to walk my labrador retriever again (as opposed to just letting her go in the backyard). Daisy was an old dog whom I adopted shortly after I obtained my MBA a year prior. She had been with me for about a year at this time. When I came back to Chicago from the west coast, I sought mainly two things: a job and a social life that didn’t include my parents. I refused to live with them in Irving Park so I moved to the South Loop. I had an apartment with one room, one bathroom, and an open-concept kitchen/living room. While I was happy to have my own place, I was lonely. Daisy filled this void.
           On our walks I would observe people as they passed me. People are interesting. The fact that no two people are exactly alike fascinates me. You can tell everything about a person by observing how they walk in the rain. The transition from winter to spring was perfect for this. Most of the time, people who don’t hurry in the rain have nowhere to go, they’re just enjoying life as it is. They are rather simplistic individuals. People who hurry in the rain don’t want it to affect their appearance because they view the way they look as important.
           Weeks passed and I thoroughly enjoyed taking these walks with Daisy as the changing, brisk wind blew against me. I knew it would soon be a warm, beaming springtime wind. I looked forward to that.
           Soon came the beautiful, wonderful month of April. The sun shone so brightly above the blossoming trees and flowers. April was comforting and loving, which was what I needed most. It was on one of Daisy and I’s walks when I noticed someone sitting at a cafe across the street from me. She was young, like me. She had brunette hair that was in a bun. She wore a cropped red sweater with a floral skirt and Toms. For some unbeknownst reason, I found her fascinating. I observed her as Daisy started to pull me north on the block. She was sitting with her legs crossed, swinging her top leg until her small foot hit under the table. I liked her and decided that I would cross the street at the end of the block so that I’d pass her. I did so several times. However, she didn’t look up because she was reading Pride and Prejudice, I noted.
I passed her for the fourth time hoping that somehow I could draw her attention away from Jane Austen’s words. A pen dropped from the table next to hers and rolled to my feet.
“I think you dropped this,” I said as I handed the pen to her, “here.”
She smiled confusedly and thanked me. There was a brief, awkward silence as I stood there and she smiled at me.
“Austen’s a great writer, don’t you think?” I said.
“Yeah...yeah she’s great. I’m reading this for my English class.”
“Oh you’re in college! Where do you go?” I inquired, hoping that the conversation would last.
“I’m at UofC. I hate reading for school. I’m having such a hard time!” she exclaimed, her leg still swinging.
“I’m a college graduate myself. Maybe I can help you?” I sat down.
We talked for two hours that day about Elizabeth’s social standard and Darcy’s poor first impression, among other things relating to the novel. Daisy circled impatiently around my chair towards the end of the conversation and I figured I should leave. I told her goodbye as we exchanged cell numbers. She told me her name was Piper.
Piper and I texted and talked on the phone often for the next few weeks. Very often. We talked from when we first woke up to when we went to sleep. Every moment I had the opportunity to, I called her. I liked hearing her voice. We decided to meet up again at a park near my apartment. She told me to bring Daisy, so I did. We walked around the park and I admired the springtime weather. Daisy curiously played in the fields of red roses as we walked.
“I love springtime!” I said.
“I like it too but I think I actually prefer winter.” she responded. I was puzzled and asked why.
She said, “It’s beautiful. Have you ever seen a field of pure snow? Or icicles hanging from a tree’s branch? The cold outside makes indoors more fun. It makes me appreciate having a warm place. I love it.”
When she said this I started to love winter too. I began to imagine the pure white snow falling from the sky to the tips of branches. I thought. She was still smiling at me and the sun reflecting from her eyes made them sparkle. I smiled back at her agreeingly and we continued to walk. After a few more rotations around the park, we decided to sit on a bench. I watched people go by as she spoke to me.
“I like you, Cory.” She said to me as I turned my head quickly and looked into her eyes.
“I like you too, Piper.” I smiled. I rested my hand on top of hers and she giggled. We sat together like this for a warm, joyful 10 minutes. It was 6 o’clock and I knew I had to go soon. I had work to catch up on before tomorrow, Monday. I told her so and her eyes looked sad although her mouth was still smiling.
“Ok,” she said, “you will call me later?”
I affirmed that I would call her and smiled. But, I didn’t know what to do after that. I leaned forward and saw the shock in her eyes as I did. I continued. She leaned forwards as well and my heart started to beat faster. I could feel it so heavy in my chest. We kissed. It was a long kiss. She smiled ecstatically afterwards and said goodbye. Then, we both went our separate ways. I smiled the entire walk home with Daisy.
    I opened the door to my apartment building and winked at the security guard, Gary.
    “Good day today?” he asked.
    “You bet!” I replied as I hopped onto the elevator with Daisy. My legs were too tired to take the stairs, as I usually do. Daisy ran into the apartment as I opened the door, jumping onto her favorite loveseat. I headed to the refrigerator for a glass of water. I sat at my island’s stool and drank. I thought about where my relationship with Piper would go. I only thought of good times to come for us. I sat, thinking, for about 15 minutes. I couldn’t stop thinking about Piper.
    As I pulled out my laptop to finish the financial models, I remembered I was supposed to call Piper. It was almost 7 and I didn’t want to call her too soon after leaving each other or too late. I decided 8:30 would be a good time to call her. I worked, inattentively, until then. I checked the time frequently. At 8:30 I called her. It rang several times before eventually going to voicemail. I didn’t know what to do. I continued to work for hours, waiting for a call I knew I wouldn’t receive. I questioned our relationship, myself, and my life in general. I was so flustered but I decided to go to sleep. I needed to rest before the start of the new week. I sat up for a couple hours before I finally fell asleep.
    I woke up the next morning and frantically checked my phone. A text from Piper read “Sorry! I fell asleep lol.” I smiled at that and told her not to worry. I got cleaned up and dressed myself in a navy blue dress shirt, black tie with blue pinstripes, and black dress pants. Although no one else in the office wore a tie everyday, I felt the need to do. As Junior Financial Analyst of only a year, I was often held to a different standard than everyone else. I was okay with that. I took a Cliff Bar and left Daisy some fresh food and water for the day.
I grabbed my briefcase and headed for the bus. The entire ride to my office I thought about how silly it was of me to become so flustered about Piper not calling me. I laughed to myself sometimes and people glanced at me.
    The work day was tough but texting Piper throughout it helped. It turns out my financial models were incorrect. The Senior Analyst, Seth, scolded me a bit for wasting time and money with incorrect models. When he left I tore them and stared out the window at the springtime sun’s reflection off the buildings of downtown Chicago. When I told Piper, she helped me laugh about my screwup. It was good, sometimes, to take a breather and not stress yourself about things that were actually not that important. I worked on the revised financial models the entire day, until 8 - two hours past the end of my usual shift.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Old Money, New Money, and Everybody Else

In The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, monetary prosperity and luxury are main themes in the novel. Acquiring that monetary prosperity and means to luxury is part of the "American dream" that is embodies by several characters in the novel, such as Jay Gatsby. The novel has introduced to types of wealth: old money and new money.
Old money is manifested in the East Egg. The major aspect of East Egg, old money-acquired wealth is it is part of traditional, lineal success . Those considered old money are entitled to special privileges through established connections. Often times, old money individuals aren't really worthy of their wealth and were lucky that they were born into an old money family. While they do work hard to maintain their wealth (more often than not), their status protected them from any major challenge to success.
New money is manifested in the West Egg. West Egg, new money wealth is acquired through entrepreneurship, innovation, and oftentimes luck (e.g. the death of an extremely wealthy family member results in an influx of inherited money). New money individuals must prove themselves to those who've established their wealth for several generations. I would argue new money is the harder of the two options for acquisition of wealth because new money individuals have to compete among the capitalist society to acquire and maintain wealth. Old money individuals have a "safety net" to fall back on if they, at any point, fail.
Everybody else is defined as not new money or old money, but no money. While the "Roaring 20s" serve as the paragon of success through the American dream for some, most were excluded. People of color, women, and immigrants weren't taken seriously in this society and therefore fall under the category of "no money". The Great Gatsby paints the image of luxury and wealth for the majority of Americans but that is simply not true. Fitzgerald only paints that image regarding Americans that matter to him, and his exclusive society.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Thankful

This Thanksgiving, we must think about who we are thankful for. In McCarthy's 7th period English II class I'm thankful for Bella Fertel and Henry Ferolie. Bella's ideas inspire my own thoughts and promote deeper thinking from me in class. I am really thankful for her and I don't think my cognitive abilities would be so developed without her. Henry's more often than not very confrontational and looking for a chance to debate an idea with someone. Although it can be a little much at times, I'm thankful for it. He pushes me to my limits and forces me to thoroughly evaluate my ideas. I'm pushed to think of creative ways to convey my points. I wouldn't be as good a student if it wasn't for these two amazing people in class challenging me to excel everyday. Thank you guys for making me better, and happy Thanksgiving to all!

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

I Celebrate Myself

Self-reliance and self-appreciation were big aspects of the Transcendentalist Movement. Those ideas have carried over for years and years and are a big part of our society. There are two extremely opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to celebrating oneself. The first end is being over-modest. We live in a society that tells award-winners to thank everyone else before acknowledging the fact that they worked hard to win the award, if they acknowledge that at all. In this society, it's inappropriate to talk about yourself too much without being prompted to do so by the other person in the conversation. Over-modest people don't fully appreciate themselves (even if they believe they do) and will never be self-reliant because they don't believe they are skilled enough to carry out all tasks. They don't celebrate themselves. The opposite end of the spectrum is being self-centered. Self-centered people never acknowledge those who put them in the position to accomplish what they've accomplish. Many Americans were offended when President Obama said "If you've got a business, you didn't build that." However, this statement could not be more true and is applicable to several situations. If an individual is extremely smart they were not born smart. There were several teachers who aided their mental development. You didn't get their on your own and it's completely ridiculous for someone to say that they did! There is not one person who has been 100% self-reliant and has needed no help from other people. So there has to be a medium between the two ends of the spectrum! Celebrate yourself because yes, you've worked hard and have earned your accomplishments, but acknowledge those who put you in the positions do so. One must realize that is a combination of both their own hard work and the assistance of others that has led to their success, not one or the other.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Poe

   Poe's works are known for being mysterious, haunting and ominous. He has shown himself to be a stickler about attention-to-detail and uses these details to create a story that demands analytical and cognitive skills from the reader. This is why Poe's stories are so popular in educational systems around the world. Not only are they challenging, but they are interesting. He creates a world for readers to envelop themselves in using sensory details, characters of great personality, and of course attention-to-detail throughout the entire world. I enjoy this kind of reading because it requires me to push myself to read between the lines and serves as a challenge for me. However, I don't enjoy having a deadline attached to the reading because it typically takes me longer to comprehend and fully understand all of the details of the story.

   Like his stories, Poe too was perceived to be a mysterious man by many. This trait most likely started developing when both of his parents died when he was only 3 years old. He was sent to live with John Allan who had aspirations of Poe being a wealthy businessman. Poe, however, objected and wanted to become a writer as his childhood hero, Lord Byron, had. Later on in his life, Poe faced extreme poverty and tried gambling to overcome it. When this failed, he was publicly humiliated and looked for an outlet to his frustrations. He went back to doing what he had loved doing from childhood: writing. Throughout his life, Poe used his stories as an outlet for all his emotions. I think this is why he and his writings take on a similar persona of mysterious and ominous.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

What Is An American?

There are many criteria for being considered an "American", in my opinion. The first and most obvious criterion is that you have to be a citizen of the United States. To fully understand what it is to be an American, one has to live in the country and experience its lifestyle. However, one cannot state that because they are a citizen in the country, they are an American. Secondly, an American believes in democracy and takes every measure to attain, practice, and preserve it. The definition of democracy is "a government in which the supreme power is vested in the people and exercised by them directly or indirectly through a system of representation usually involving periodically held free elections." Another definition is "an organization or situation in which everyone is treated equally and has equal rights". An example of  a group of people who didn't practice democracy would be the US citizens who oppressed African-Americans through the slave trade and neglect of civil rights. They did not believe that everyone should be treated equally and had equal rights. They also did not believe that African-Americans should be represented in the system. Lastly, the third criterion for one to be considered an American is to accept individuality and diversity. America is considered a "mixing pot" of all kinds of people from different kinds of cultural background. If one cannot accept that another person may believe or behave differently than them, then they don't deserve to be called an American. This also merits the act of being an individual. To me, this means that nobody can tell someone else how they should or should not behave without proper justification (e.g. the law). Religious groups that condemn others and tell individuals that they are damned by God for something like homosexuality aren't composed of Americans. They don't believe in the practice of individuality! There is too much variation, in terms of kinds of people, in the country for others to be constantly passing judgment on someone else for their differences. Americans must be accepting of others. In synopsis, an American is someone who is a citizen of the United States. This citizen is democratic and every measure that needs to be taken to promote the practice of democracy is taken. Lastly, they are accepting of people from all walks of life and don't suppress the opinions and actions of others that contrast their own.