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The Distraction of an Unknown World

The Marvel movie “Black Panther” is an extraordinarily produced film that features brilliant actors and – even better – the destruction of countless stereotypes, one of them depicted in the image above: black women as warriors.

The Marvel universe has a tendency to star white actors in its movies; and, while embracing different cultures, say that of Americans or Russians, Black culture had not been strongly explored until the release of Black Panther. This is the first Marvel movie I can think of where a culture other than white or American is the star of the show and is appreciated in a new light. It gives its audience the ability to appreciate a culture which they may not have known a lot about, as African culture has been continually whitewashed since colonizers invaded the country many years ago.

Black Panther defeats not only the white or American stereotype of Marvel superheroes but also the stereotype that Africa may be less modern or technologically advanced than other continents. While Wakanda is not real, it allows the audience to view an Africa that does not give credit to colonists for its success and actually views white people as a bad addition to the continent than a good one.

For example, author Jelani Cobb explains the implications of the scene where Shuri, T’Challah’s younger sister, calls the white F.B.I. agent a colonizer: “When I saw the movie, the audience howled at the inversion, “colonizer” deployed as an epithet rather than a badge of cultural superiority,” Cobb says in his essay, “‘Black Panther’ and the Invention of ‘Africa'”. In this instance, Shuri is disgusted by this white man rather than afraid of him, showing a world that is Black-dominated and conquers the stereotypes of a white-dominated world that are widely accepted by society in current times.

Lastly, though there are countless more underlying meanings in Black Panther, I will explain one more stereotype: the powerful women in Black Panther defeat the societal standard of thinking that women should sit back and watch while men fight. In the film, the warriors of Wakanda are made up of exclusively women, while countless films have almost always made their warriors male. This depiction of women as powerful beings who are not discriminated against because of their sex. For example, in the final fight scene of the film, multiple of these female warriors are killed and it is not seen as any different than if it were a man dying; and instead of taking men with him to find the protagonist at the beginning of the film, T’Challah brings two women.

In conclusion, Black Panther makes many connections that take analysis and a rewatch before realization. Reading articles about the movie and watching videos that feature the directors, costume designers, or others involved in the creation of the film is a gratifying experience that educates the audience about Africa’s culture and traditions and makes the movie-watching experience just that much more rewarding.

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The Moose Dilemma

Having to choose the lesser of two evils: a conflict that nearly everyone must face on a daily basis. As you can see in the image above, many sheep are casting a ballot between a wolf and a lion. While there is no text on this image, the meaning is clear: none of the sheep want to die, but they have to choose who eats them – obviously, neither of these choices are good, but they have to choose.

I will relate this to the reading of the week: the dystopian novel The Marrow Thieves, illustrating the kidnapping and experimenting of indigenous people whose bone marrow will restore the ability of others to dream. This book is riveting in many ways; it illustrates a world that is nearly apocalyptic and not far from what Earth is fast approaching at the moment. Frenchie, the main character in the book, finds a group of indigenous people who are escaping the harvesters after his brother is taken by the marrow harvesters. Over several years, Frenchie is trained to hunt by the leaders of his camp; however, it is clear that Frenchie is more compassionate than his companions.

Now, the moose dilemma comes in. When on the hunt, Frenchie finds a moose quietly grazing before him. In this situation, Frenchie is forced to choose between two evils: whether to kill the innocent moose to feed his companions and risk wasting a large part of it, or leaving the moose alone and risking the starvation of his makeshift family.

Frenchie decides to spare the life of the moose in the end, but he faces intense debate within himself as he approaches the camp empty-handed: “Walking back to the meeting point, I swung between peace with my decision and wrenching regret,” (50). In the end, Frenchie accepts his decision when he sees that two of his peers brought back turkeys, so he didn’t have to worry about the starvation of his family. However, when faced with the Dilemma of The Moose (as I now call it), people often have to live with the regret of their choice, not knowing whether they made the right one. Frenchie got lucky this time.

When relating this conflict to the real-world, one realizes that humans must face the predicament of choosing the lesser evil nearly every single day. A less intense example would be having to choose between two restaurants that you don’t like that much for dinner or choosing whether to shower and be cold for the night, or not shower and stay dirty (beach volleyball life – and yes – I choose to shower every time).

Of course, these are modest situations when you relate them to problems that are illustrated in the novel and that are currently occurring in the real world: risking oil spills so we can have electricity, slaughtering animals so we can eat, polluting the air so our cars can have power, and draining lakes so we can have water, as well as countless more predicaments. In all, the dilemma of the moose very well characterizes the human trait of selfishness that conquers everyday life and decision-making, as well as the decisions that humans make which determine the future of Earth itself.

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Fancy Conversation

Today I will be addressing a topic that I find very interesting: making arguments. In high school, I would never have imagined myself saying a sentence like the former. However, after 5 weeks in a college-level writing class and with plenty of new information in my brain, I am actually starting to find certain things to be much more appealing than they previously were. In chapter 7 of The Craft of Research, the authors make crafting claims and supporting them seem far less intimidating by connecting it to regular conversation.

This chapter makes it evident that rather than thinking of research papers as big, scary essays that we just want to finish writing, these papers should be enjoyable and exciting to craft by treating them like you would a casual, friendly argument. In common arguments, whether between friends, family, or strangers, you make claims, give your reasons, then use evidence to support your claims. Acknowledging and responding to the claims of others is also a daily occurrence in regular conversation. In the chapter, the authors state that using these same steps to craft a paper is simple: “there’s nothing arcane in any of that, because you do it in every conversation that inquires thoughtfully into an unsettled issue”(108).

Most people make claims every single day, just in regular life. For example, times such as right now when an important election is near, conversation is centered largely around politics, and arguing is often part of this conversation. This happens on social media quite often too – people will post media that makes a claim, viewers will comment on the post with conflicting views, and more will join into the conversation with their own claims and reasoning to support their views. I think that recognizing this idea – and understanding that essays and research papers are just fancy types of conversation – makes approaching a new piece of writing far less stressful.

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I Blame The Teachers

I like to say that I’m a good writer – but not great. And personally, I blame the teachers. After nearly 14 years of education, I am finally learning how to share my voice effectively because I’m not afraid anymore. In the very first blog post of my college career, entitled “Strength”, I analyzed the fact that students are told to silence their own voices or else they won’t sound professional, and that this is actually not the best approach to writing. This affected me personally, as I used to read essays of other students and feel like mine did not match their level of academic greatness because they used bigger words than me. That blog post was a mere three weeks ago, yet life has changed quite a lot since then. I’ve written countless things and I’ve learned a lot too.

First, I’m not as scared as I was 3 weeks ago. We had to peer edit essays in English class, and I was scared that they would be absolutely scholarly and mine would be trash, but I found that my fellow college students are equally as good, if not worse at writing than I am. I found repetitive sentences, incomplete clauses, and grammatical errors in their essays, the same errors that I was so worried about in my own writing. In the They Say/ I say Chapters that we read, Graff and Birkenstein touched on metacommentary and connecting sentences. When I thought about these chapters, I realized how much I wasn’t taught in high school. My teachers never emphasized the importance of connecting sentences; hence, my fellow students always filled their essays with sentences that didn’t relate to each other and didn’t relate to the thesis itself, of course causing them to lose points. I did it too. But even then, our teachers didn’t tell us how to fix it – they told us to make it relate to our thesis, but how?

Metacommentary is another subject that I don’t think I ever heard before today. Of course, its meaning can be inferred, but I am certain that my high school English teachers never uttered that word in my four years there. “Metacommentary is a way of commenting on your claims and telling others how – and how not – to think about them,” (Kraft and Birkenstein, 131). As I view this definition, I realize that I never thought that I, the author of my own writing, am supposed to actually give my opinions and clarify my claims with my readers. Much like we were forced to silence our own voices to write academically in high school, we also felt afraid to clarify with our own thoughts and opinions on the subject because we thought it was unprofessional when that would’ve made our writing so much better. We were always told to say “them” not “you” as if the audience is a stranger. I want to write knowing that my voice and my opinions are important. There is a living, breathing person behind this keyboard.

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So… Hero or Not?

Today’s blog post will be about Charlie Gillis’s controversial article, “Let’s Redefine Hero”. To summarize, Gillis uses this article to address the application of the word “hero” in a modern world. He argues that too many people are defined as heroes these days; that victims of terrorism and people doing their jobs being addressed as heroes takes away from the real heroic acts, such as the firefighters who died on 9/11 and people like Daniel Francis who crawled into a burning RV to save a young girl. Obviously, Gillis’s views are controversial, as everyone’s definition of “hero” is different; however, I will explain my stance on the topic.

On one hand, I agree with Gillis. People are so decorated nowadays for committing simple acts of human decency. One topic I couldn’t stop thinking about when reading this article was boys. Social media has its way of honoring young men who are simply being decent. For example, parties: a boy who doesn’t spike a girl’s drink, or who takes away a drink that he knows is spiked, is not a hero. He is being a nice, decent human being. Likewise, if he didn’t take the drink away, he would be the opposite of a hero. The meme that I featured, recognizing a coworker as a hero for trading shifts, is another situation that supports Gillis’s view: trading shifts with someone is not heroic, it is nice.

While his subject is not that of boys or trading shifts, Gillis represents the same stance with his opinions on Toronto Transit Authority’s recognition of its employees for doing the bare minimum: “The acts, however, turned out to be little more than gestures of common decency — the kind we should be ashamed not to do,” Gillis noted. Of course, it’s nice of you to stop your car if a child wanders into the street, but what else would you do, run them over? I think there are actions that make people decent, and actions that make people heroic. For example, when that child wanders into the busy street, those stopping their cars to avoid striking the child aren’t heroic – they’re decent. However, the person who risks their own life to run after the child and rescue them is, plausibly, a hero.

On the other hand, Gillis made some statements that did not sit right with me. He mentioned members of the military and victims of terrorism, arguing that their recognition takes away from real heroic acts. I think most Americans agree that marines and people alike (firefighters, police, etc.) are heroes. These people risk their lives and often die to keep countless people safe, and that is undoubtedly heroic. Furthermore, there are many victims of terrorism who are heroes. Rick Rescorla was a veteran who rescued countless people from one of the Twin Towers on 9/11 before he succumbed in the collapse; Todd Beamer and other passengers on Flight 93 stormed the cockpit of their hijacked plane, crashing it into a field before it could reach the Capitol building. These are just a few examples of victims who are also heroes. Nevertheless, people can recognize others as heroes with varying degrees.

Doctors are just one out of several types of workers who are considered to be heroes by many people.

To conclude, Gillis’s article is certainly controversial and destined to arouse negative feelings in people. In my opinion, his general idea is reasonable, however, some of the examples he uses are downright wrong. While it is acceptable to not recognize certain people or groups as heroes, stating your dissent for their recognition is disrespectful. As I said in my Dead or Alive post, not everyone’s heroes have to be yours, too.

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what if things were different?

*Warning: Mentions shootings, guns, etc.*

In my common application essay for college, I wrote this: “Advocacy cannot last only a week, and it cannot last only a month; advocacy must be everlasting. The minute we stop persevering – the minute we stop having faith – the world returns to how it was.” While it is quite terrifying and extremely painful, the American youth have been abandoned to fight for reform by ourselves, often being told “it’s too late”, “too bad”, or “just accept it”. I say we shouldn’t accept it anymore.

In her speech at the March for Our Lives in 2018, Emma Gonzalez expressed enormous emotion as she named the victims of the Parkland massacre, then stood in silence for six minutes to represent the time it took for the shooting to occur – 17 deaths in just a handful of minutes. “Six minutes and twenty seconds were over, she told her audience: the period of time it took Nikolas Cruz to commit the massacre,” Rebecca Mead explains in her detailed description of Gonzalez’s effective speech (and lack thereof). The hundreds of audience members looked on in shock, grief, and sadness. Ironically, Gonzalez’s silence meant even more than her words.

One assumes that the subject of dying children brings out a little bit of empathy or sadness from people, especially those in government – after Columbine, Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook, Parkland, and the hundreds of shootings in between, it is expected that reform would arise. Literal six-year-olds are being killed by guns; how can that not arouse some type of despair in people (not that children of any age dying is any less sad)? Even after countless rallies from those who don’t accept it, we’re still in the same place as twenty years ago. Instead of deciding to take away guns, they decided that we should have school shooting drills. To think – we used to think fire drills were scary. The terrified screams of my peers during those shooting drills really showed how well we adjusted to that change.

In front of a makeshift memorial for the 17 victims of the Parkland, Florida school shooting, 3 women hold each other in grief.

Why does devising plans for fighting against a shooter have to be a regular part of the school curriculum? Aren’t students supposed to be learning how to make their lives better, not fight for them? Why is it that my friends, ranging between 15 and 19 years old, are fighting more for mask-wearing and social distancing during a pandemic than most of the adults I know? It seems as though the adult generation has decided that when things get bad, they need to be accepted as the new “normal” rather than fought against.

Besides school shootings, the way adults have been dealing with the COVID pandemic is another example of unacceptable acceptance. I can’t help but well up in tears as I read the article, “An Eternal Hero: Whistleblower doctor who sounded alarm on coronavirus dies in China.” I think about how different life might have currently been if people had taken Coronavirus more seriously at its beginning.

Less than 10 months ago – when the article was written – 30 thousand cases were a multitude, unimaginable to the rest of the world. Now, the world has surpassed 30 million cases – more than 1 thousand times that. As I watch groups of people walk by in public spaces – often adults, and often not wearing masks – I feel a certain resentment towards the world. Instead of fighting to return our society to the way it was – through policy, perhaps some time inside, and simple human decency – we’ve accepted the constant existence of a virus that kills people and decided that that’s just the way it is.

Before the Pandemic was better understood and mask-wearing became a requirement, Americans resorted to raiding grocery stores and stockpiling goods.

My point is that sometimes, acceptance isn’t the right approach for certain things in the world. Things that kill people in vast amounts – like school shootings and deadly viruses – do not deserve to be on the same list that “going to the movies” or “having fruit snacks at lunch” is found. These horrors aren’t normal and shouldn’t be labeled as such. Children don’t deserve to die anymore – no one deserves to die anymore.

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Dead or Alive

When I was five years old, I was bitten by a bulldog in the yard of my parents’ veterinary hospital. My sister, in shock, ran inside. My mom then held me for dear life, struggling to prevent the dog from getting at me again and trying to loop a leash around its neck. It felt like hours passed as we screamed for help, but no one came. Suddenly, my first hero then emerged – she was a teacher at the kindergarten down the street. She had heard us screaming and ran barefoot up the hill between our two buildings, ignoring the risk of any pine needle or rock that might cause her discomfort, so she could help us. She became my hero that day. When I think about it now, almost thirteen years later, she gave no second thought to the situation, her only intention to help whoever was screaming; she didn’t even put her shoes on. I wish I knew her name so that I could thank her. My mom gave the teacher the leash which she held through the chain-link fence and ran inside with me, where my parents and their employees dressed my wound and proceeded to drive me to the emergency room. While waiting for the doctors, my neighbors brought me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (I couldn’t eat them in case I needed surgery). They became my heroes too.

Just a few years later, I was walking around barefoot at the bottom of a waterfall when my foot slipped and a rock sliced a hefty cut into my big toe. Bleeding profusely into the water, I needed a little bit more than a bandaid. After struggling to find our family friend who had the first aid kit while my mom held my toe tightly with her hand, they were able to secure my wound (still bleeding extensively, unfortunately). Our family friend then proceeded to carry me up multiple flights of stairs to return to the trail, and my dad carried me over two miles on his back to the bus stop. On the bus, an old woman gave up her seat for us because the rest were taken. Our family friend, my father, and that woman also became my heroes that day.

It took me some time to realize it, but my mom is also one of my heroes. She will do anything to put my life before hers, whether it’s walking on the outer edge of a steep trail, or taking the outside edge of the sidewalk when we walk around our neighborhood – and I feel the same way about her. Not only will she risk her life for me, but she has been through a multitude of unpleasant experiences herself: she almost died after giving birth to me, was bitten on her face by a dog, suffered ligament tears in a ski accident that forced her into months of physical therapy, and has had more dislocated shoulders than I can count (she has had surgery by now, thank god). While suffering through bad experiences doesn’t always automatically make someone a hero, the way they deal with those experiences does. My mom’s strength through pain makes her a hero to me.

I was able to avoid further health-threatening injuries for a few years after the waterfall incident, but the journey into middle and high school introduced me to a new type of pain: depression. Searching for ways to heal the sadness within me, I did things that I will always regret. High school was better, as I found friends who distracted me from the pain I was feeling. I often wanted to let go, but I stayed for them. It wasn’t until I met Sebastian, who changed my life. Within a year of knowing him, I could already feel the sadness fading away. Now, after nearly two years of dating him, I am happier than I have ever been. While so many people were able to rescue me from physical pain, Sebastian saved me from myself.

It is evident that my heroes are real people who supported me in times of sorrow – even bringing me a sandwich in the hospital was still someone going out of their way to make me feel better. While I haven’t been in any severe incidents for a few years, I know that if anyone were to save me in the future, that they would be another hero of mine. Reading about people who perished while saving others is often gut-wrenching to me, and I know that I would want to be that person: the person who jumps in front of the bullet or storms the cockpit to save the lives of many.

The Real Heroes are Dead, an article written by James B. Stewart in The New Yorker, explains that it is often the people who sacrifice themselves for others who are the real heroes; they don’t make it out alive. Rick Rescorla was one of these people – a Vietnam war veteran who rescued thousands of people from the collapsing buildings on 9/11, eventually succumbing himself. The first chapter of Heroes, by Allison and Goethals, makes a similar point: heroes are often people who make great sacrifices for the best of others, and in turn, face great suffering themselves. “The best heroes don’t just perform remarkably moral acts; they are willing to pay the ultimate price to do so,” (45, Allison and Goethals). While my own heroes are only people who I have interacted with and who have affected me personally, I have no doubts that those who have sacrificed themselves – whether it be Irena Sendler, the passengers of flight 93, marines who fight our wars, and many more – are heroes too, dead or alive.

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Strength

Chapter 9 of They Say/ I say led me to a great realization – I have been trying way too hard. I have loved writing since I was a child, even creating my own book in the first grade (I still have it on my bookshelf). However, academic writing has not always come so easily to me. I find essay writing to be incredibly difficult, especially when it is based on a rubric full of requirements that I’m not so sure how to fulfill. In AP history and English classes, I would peer-review essays of my classmates and bask in amazement at their writing skills; I was horrified at the same time because I believed my own work was nothing compared to theirs. After reading this chapter, I have come to understand this: perhaps it wasn’t a lack of skill that kept me from enjoying and flourishing through essay writing, but the pressure put on me from a young age by teachers saying that I had to alter my own voice in order to be a successful writer.

This chapter of TS/ IS informs us that successful essay writing, or writing in general, doesn’t have to be a different version of your own voice. Rather, it should be a combination of your everyday voice with a more academic, refined version: “It means creating a new voice that draws on the voice you already have,” (118, Graff and Birkenstein). Knowing the point that you are trying to make and communicating it effectively is reasonably the most important part of writing, but trying too hard to sound scholarly or intelligent often causes the intention to be lost in a sea of huge words that even the writer doesn’t understand; I admit, I am guilty of this.

“Translating academic-speak into everyday-speak can function as a thinking tool that enables you to discover what you are trying to say to begin with,” (125). As a writer and student myself, it’s all too true – people often don’t know the point they’re trying to make until they begin writing.

As the chapter states and as I personally believe, it shouldn’t be necessary to become a new person every time an academic essay needs to be written. Simply, it is important to first understand what you want to say, then take baby steps to alter (notice I said alter, not completely transform) the piece until it reaches its desired academic level without sounding fake – or like a sixteenth-century English playwright (sorry Shakespeare!) I know that the other students at my competitive high school were not the only ones struggling with this problem. Hopefully, in the future, teachers begin to advise their students that academic writing should have to silence your voice – it should strengthen it.