When Stereotypes Collide

Most of what I saw at the Apple Pie exhibit surprised me. Like most Americans, I know my country is viewed negatively, but such feelings usually come from across the ocean. I didn't expect to encounter so many works of art pointing out the hubristic horrors of America in one little room. At least it was fun.

Out of all the art, however, Greta Pratt's Man Eating Turkey Leg, Disney World, Florida got me thinking about more than "what is that?" or "ooh, that's scary/pretty/wha-huh?"



When I saw it, I remembered all of those irritating, nerve-grating readings we had where cultures collided. Here, we have two stereotypes--chubby, pasty, turkey-munching white guy and the typical representation of an Indian--within the same space, chilling, each slightly turned toward the other. It was kind of ironic. My culture is so quick to point fingers and differentiate, but sometimes we need to realize that fingers may point right back.

¡¡Script Frenzy 2010!!

For those who either read or have the capability to scroll down my journal page, I wrote about NaNoWriMo back in November. ScriptFrenzy is similar, only different. Here's a quick overview from the site:

Who: You and everyone you know. No experience required.

What: 100 pages of original scripted material in 30 days. (Screenplays, stage plays, TV shows, short films, and graphic novels are all welcome.)

When: April 1 - 30. Every year. Mark your calendars.

Where: Online and in person (if you want!). Hang out in the forums, join your fellow participants at write-ins, and make friends by adding writing buddies online.

Why: Because you have a story to tell. Because you want a creative challenge. Because you’ll be disappointed if you missed out on the adventure. Because you need to make time for you.

How: Sign up. Tell everyone that you are in the Frenzy. Clear your calendar. (US participants: Get your taxes done now!) Start some wrist exercises. Have fun!

The 5 Basic Rules of Script Frenzy

1) To be crowned an official Script Frenzy winner, you must write a script (or multiple scripts) of at least 100 total pages and verify this tally on ScriptFrenzy.org.
2) You may write individually or with a partner. Writing teams will have a 100-page total goal for their co-written script or scripts.
3) Script writing may begin no earlier than 12:00:01 AM on April 1 and must cease no later than 11:59:59 PM on April 30, local time.
4) You may write screenplays, stage plays, TV shows, short films, comic book and graphic novel scripts, adaptations of novels, or any other type of script your heart desires.
5) You must, at some point, have ridiculous amounts of fun.

That's right, November isn't the only month for writers! This April, over 20,000 people will gather together for a whole month of words, words, words! All will write, many will question their sanity, and some will win. And even if you lose, you still get some pretty awesome bragging rights. I would know. :)

If you're interested or if you're rolling your eyes and wondering why you bothered to read this, check out ScriptFrenzy.org instead. If you know a kid or rather write with some, check out ywp.scriptfrenzy.org too!

I hope to see you this April! Best of luck baiting and bagging your muses!

So Much More

It amazes me.

Here we are, day in and day out, reading about revolutionaries, navigating their ideas and their work, exploring our thoughts on their thoughts from the safety of a classroom. We've tasted the tales of Smith and Edwards, Wollstonecraft and Fitzgerald, Lincoln and O'Brien. We've bent our backs over biographies, cramped our hands because of essays, burned out our brains over the bombast of writers long dead. It's time-consuming, it's thought-provoking, it's brain-breaking... it's fun.

But have we done anything?

My writing has improved, expanded, my mind is more open, but I'm still trying to churn out blogs and rough drafts and failing fantastically! My completed writings are gathering dust, fly legs and skin particles atop grades derived from late nights and long hours. It makes me sad. It makes me wonder why I'm writing if my words mean nothing more than the number penned onto my paper.

Do our words mean anything more than an assignment? Than busywork? Who else besides this AP Comp Class will hear us? I thought writers wrote with reason. What happened to the purpose behind the pen?

Don't misunderstand--AP Comp has been one of my favorite classes ever. I love it; I look forward to it! I'm sad we have only a few weeks more. But as with most of school, I've learned more interacting and listening to people than I have from any homework.

All I want is a reason. Not a "college peeps love a good essay" or "it'll help you in the future". College is important, sure, but who evaluates a person solely on their grades and rhetoric? That's stupid. People are so much, much more than that. And my future? What about my now? What about yours?

So let's do something! Write a revolution! Put purpose into our papers! Herald our own halos instead of looking back at the historic, over-glorified greats! We are a generation made for a waiting world and we are more than our test scores, so why are we damning ourselves to our desks?

I have ideas, and I can't be the only one. Call me greedy, call me crazy, or call me out for what I am--someone who is sick and tired of being sick and tired.

The rant ends here. Homework calls.

The Devil Baby at Hull-House

Oh dear Deity.

While I liked how this essay dipped into a difficult subject, it was a painful read. Why? Because I'm freakishly sensitive, but more so because it was true--not the baby, but what it represents.

It's unnerving how much that baby stood for. Abuse, neglect, all kinds of misfortune and fear personified into that child, spreading like wildfire from the tongues of abused, neglected, unfortunate, fearful women. Those women faced the devil and went through hell and back day after day after day. And they accepted it. They accepted it. And that killed me most of all.

I've seen women without voices. I've been without a voice. It's hard and scary and lonely and when an opportunity comes, you latch onto it, sometimes repeating what you said; sometimes unraveling everything to whomever will listen, but you're talking. It’s an outlet and you take it. You hold on as long as you can too, knowing it’s rare a person honestly listens, honestly gives a darn—and if you lie to keep them there, so be it. Besides, sometimes, like in The Things They Carried, it’s less what you say and more what you mean.

It amazes me how contradictory "humankind" can be. Still today people are resorting to fables to find power, and it's not always women. Parents and politicians alike rely on fear to get their message across, teens spread rumors to gain power and popularity, priests cry from pulpits, and so on and on and on. I'm pretty egalitarian, and I'm not foolish enough to believe that the world will change for the better overnight, but I think that things like the above can be stopped before they'd even begin.

Be nice. Be kind and caring and capable of listening. Be who you are and allow others the same. Most people hate hearing this, and I often wonder why--is it because they've heard that godforsaken golden rule thousands of times? Because it's true? Either way, (y)our all is made up from each individual one, and if we keep damning each other, we're going to have a very awful all.

Sing

I am a girl
with eggshell skin
and bluebird eyes,
nesting among
every color and
every song.

We sing our souls,
sweet and fleeting,
loud with meaning--
blue jay and blackbird,
robin and raven,
together.

We cannot fall,
only fly.
We cannot sink,
only sing.
We cannot apart
what we can do together.

Every color--
every chorus--
This is America.

And this is beautiful.

Self-Reliance Rocks

"Everywhere I am hindered of meeting God in my brother, because he has shut his own temple doors, and recites fables merely of his brother's, or his brother's brother's God. Every new mind is a new classification."--Emerson's "Self-Reliance", page 106

First of all, thank you, Emerson! Throughout most of AP Comp, I have felt irritated with the writers (I'm looking at you Smith, Edwards) so it was nice to actually read something I not only like, but largely agreed with for once. Yay!

Anyway, I chose this passage because of how Emerson immerses his writing in things that would make the average Pope protest, like Pantheism. What I get out of this passage is that we all have our own reality, our own morals and credos, but that we shut away our truths for someone else’s truth—be it by your parents or pastor or whatever. This is sad. We are all different; let’s not conform at the peril of our selves. Share your ideas, sure, but don't shut them away.

I’m odd, I know, but I honestly believe that realities differ from person to person. Perhaps not significantly, but enough that we tend to mold matters for ourselves. It’s interesting to think and write about, at least. Thanks again, Emerson!