Ed. 94 - Survival

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Published monthly, The Talon strives to be an innovative student magazine that is entertaining, intellectually provocative, and visually engaging. We are conscious of the responsibility of writing and publishing, and we seek to create a dynamic magazine that is worthy of its readers. We show respect for our readers by exposing them to a variety of perspectives.

Ultimately, The Talon seeks to bring Graded to the world and the world to Graded.

The Talon wants to hear from you! We encourage submissions and ideas for articles and themes from all members of the Graded community. We publish in English, Portuguese, French, and Spanish. We reserve the right to edit submissions for length and clarity. The opinions expressed in the articles are those of the writers and not necessarily of The Talon. For this reason, we do not accept anonymous submissions. Send submissions, ideas, and themes to talon@graded.br.

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About the Cover

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF: Julia Wu & Kyle Bissell LAYOUT EDITOR: Nicole Vladimirschi COLUMNISTS: Ines Gil, Lucas Zuccolo, Kat Aliano, Luiza Gundim, Giovanna Regis, Fernão Mesquita NEWS: Daniel Almeida (Editor), Andrea Ferreira (Assistant Editor), Annie Groth FEATURES: Adam Fertig (Editor), Mariana Lepecki (Assistant Editor), Julia Abreu, Clara Bezerra, Rê Sayão ENTERTAINMENT: Yasmin Della Nina (Editor), Kevin Bengsston (Assistant Editor), Mendel Schwarz, Felipe Marques, Larissa

For this month’s cover, I decided to use Swiss Army knives to create a background pattern since they are known world-wide for their handiness in survival situations. On the front, I also used icons from an American military survival book that conveys risky situations that people must survive, juxtaposing them with the survival skills we use every day at Graded and in high school.

—Dani Reis

We Love Food. You?

We invite you to contribute to our Food edition. What’s your first food memory? What is the link between food and your culture? What do you think of the powerful role of agribusiness in Brazil or the US? What would you choose for your last meal on this earth, if you could? Where is the best feijoada in São Paulo? Do you have any qualms about genetically modified foods? What are the top ten lunches in the school cafeteria?

Articles are due Monday, 11 March to talon@graded.br; they should be between 700 words (with an image or graphic) to 900 words (just text).

Chern SPORTS: Kevin Wolfson (Editor), Rafa Rocha (Assistant Editor) BLOGGERS: Paty Kim, Mariana Bender, Victor Lee COVER ARTIST: Dani Reis PHOTOGRAPHER: Karen Kandelman ▪ ▪ ▪ TEACHER ADVISORS: Josh Berg & Mary Pfeiffer PORTUGUESE LANGUAGE CONSULTANT: Maggie Moraes ▪ ▪ ▪ E-mail: talon@graded.br

Call for Recipes For our upcoming Food edition, we are asking for personal recipes from readers to be submitted, also by 11 March. What is your favorite family dish? What is your best cookie recipe?

Send it through Talonline. After we review all the recipes submitted, we will choose the top 10 and publish them in the magazine. (You can also submit more than one recipe for consideration.)

Staff Applications Are you considered joining The Talon? After March’s Food edition, in our April edition (the Senior edition) there will be an application form for next year’s staff, due in mid-April. Any rising Grade 10, 11, and 12 students are welcome to apply.

A green magazine, five years and counting! Since August 2007, The Talon has been printed on recycled paper.

editors-in-chief

Unchained and Angry Revenge at its finest

Kyle Bissell

V

iolence, revenge, twisted humor and profanity—these would all be reasons to not watch Quentin Tarantino’s most recent epic Django Unchained. Keep in mind, when I say violence, I mean Tarantino violence. If you’ve experienced the horrors of the gimp scene in Pulp Fiction and the brutal torture of the police officer in Reservoir Dogs, you get the picture; this kind of movie is not for everyone. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately—I’m not really sure) I can stomach these kinds of movies, and be truly enthralled by the experience.

Django Unchained tells the story of Django, a slave in the deep South of the United States two years before the Civil War. He is freed by Dr. King Schultz, a former dentist who now roams the South as a very well-paid bounty hunter, who ends up teaming up with Django. After working together for a couple of months, Schultz decides to help Django find his lost love, Broomhilda, a beautiful, German-speaking slave.

The greatest aspect of the movie is identical to what was so exciting about Tarantino’s Inglorious Bastards—the violent revenge of the violently repressed. In Inglorious Bastards, we saw Brad Pitt as Lieutenant Aldo Raine leading a military faction of Jews. They were in Europe for one reason: to kill some Nazis. Tarantino gives us that same primal satisfaction as we see Django take down racist white men one by one, ferociously and without pity. It’s a good way to release all that frustration built up during our History classes.

By definition, this would be considered an exploitation film. An exploitation film is, according to Wikipedia, “a type of film that is promoted by ‘exploiting’ often lurid subject matters.” In other words, a movie that exaggerates certain aspects for seemingly no reason. This could be said of films with excessive violence—think Friday the 13th or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The term itself may put the Django in a negative light, yet, as famed movie critic Robert Ebert puts it in his review, “Faster, Quentin! Thrill, Thrill!” (Which is a play on the title of another legendary exploitation film, Faster, Pussycat!

Kill! Kill!) “What Tarantino has is an appreciation for gut-level exploitation film appeal, combined with an artist’s desire to transform that gut element with something higher, better,

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more daring.” Tarantino is able to transcend the boundaries of exploitation films and thereby produce a masterpiece.

Part of what makes Django work so well is the actors.

Although Tarantino had initially written the film with Will Smith in mind, Jamie Foxx’s hard, stolid demeanor seems to work just fine. Leonardo DiCaprio is able to play a truly despicable character through Calvin Candie. In one scene in which he exhibits violent rage he actually breaks his hand in real life yet the cameras role on. Samuel L. Jackson also takes on an especially challenging role in his character of Stephen. Tarantino does not hold back from pointing out how, sadly, there were slaves who abandoned their own race so as to gain their own advantages. More disturbingly still, Stephen seems to believe in some way that he is white, and loves his captors as he would his family.

Finally, there is Dr. King Schultz, played by Christopher Waltz who rightly won the Oscar this year. Some may remember the opening scene in Inglorious Bastards where Waltz plays a Jew hunter who speaks with such eloquence and formality that the audience cannot help but be drawn in, despite hating his guts. Waltz speaks the same in Django but the hate is no longer there. His otherworldliness compared to drafthouse.com everyone else in the movie may suggest he is being somewhat of a magical character, entering the plot in almost a deusexmachina manner.

Leading up to its release, the film was already grabbing headlines with famed director Spike Lee, known for his films on racism, speaking out against the film. The main complaint was that Tarantino used the n-word far too freely. Here, Lee may have a point. It is not only in this film where Tarantino has no problem with bringing out such heavy profanity. His cameo in Pulp Fiction is just one of countless examples. Is this particular use of words justified for this specific film? I can’t say that I am in a place to make that call, but giving the setting I understand why the word is used so nonchalantly.

Once again, this film is not for everyone, but many think highly of it. If you don’t like it, I’m afraid that you will be frustrated to find that it’s likely to be around for a long time.

editors-in-chief

Unending like 3.1415927...

Lessons of survival from the movie Life of Pi Julia Wu

O

nce, in my eighth grade Humanities class, the teacher attempted to read us Yann Martel’s celebrated novel, Life of Pi. Very few people even paid attention, so the activity was eventually suspended. When the movie came out recently, I recalled the drawing of a boat on the blue cover of the thick book I saw a few years ago, and wanted to see the film mainly because of a sense of remorse for not having appreciated the story when I was first given the opportunity. I realized I was evidently daydreaming back then, for the storyline seemed to me completely foreign and new.

Piscine (Pi) Patel grows up in his father’s zoo in Pondicherry, India. Economic difficulties prompt the Patel family to move to Canada by sea, along with the animals that grace the zoo. A shipwreck takes the lives of all the passengers except Pi, who ends up in a lifeboat in the Pacific Ocean with a zebra, hyena, orangutan, and tiger named Richard Parker.

In a matter of hours, the hyena, which has killed the zebra and the orangutan, is slaughtered by the tiger, a ferocious beast that spends 227 days adrift with Pi. Director Ang Lee takes us on a visually stimulating journey in which a teenager experiences the horrors of loss and fear, copes with distress, finds physical and psychological strength and discovers many of life’s essential lessons in his adventure of survival. I could sometimes relate to Pi in trying to walk in his shoes, but generally his experience and perspective eluded me in powerful and thought-provoking ways.

When the monstrous storm first hit the ship in the film, I told myself I would do everything to survive had I been caught up in it. But I was no longer so sure after seeing Pi lose his family, put up with panicking creatures and lose all certainty regarding what was to come. I could barely picture myself going months without showering or plucking my eyebrows. Without a doubt, my determination was bound to be challenged by the imperceptibility of the light at the end of the tunnel. This is how I understood Pi’s decision to keep the tiger, Richard Parker alive—the two, in fighting and threatening each other’s existence, secured one another’s vitality.

The bulk of the movie is Pi’s struggle to establish his physical security by taming Richard Parker, searching for food, looking out for storms, and constructing an extension for the

boat in the water. Throughout the arduous process, he communicates his thoughts through voiceover, allowing us to follow his survival process intimately. Pi’s experience reminded me of old Santiago’s in The Old Man and the Sea, in which each passing second suggested the addition of physical strain and weariness. The mind, heart, and body seem to be at war with each other, and Richard Parker, like Santiago’s marlin, represents the most primitive version of motivation.

Pi believes that God has a plan for him and guides him towards survival; he believes in a force beyond his own that aids his victory. Though my skepticism steers me away from the will of God—for I like to ascribe more value to Pi’s own choices and willingness—I recognize the significance of his undying faith in whatever it was that kept him going. One of my favorite quotes from the movie, coming from Pi, is “Above all, don’t lose hope.” A simple yet profound claim depending on the circumstances, it reflects Pi’s story. stuff.co.nz One of Pi’s greatest burdens is the fact that he never said goodbye to important figures of his life. He didn’t get a chance to do so with his parents, to his sweetheart in India, or to Richard Parker. Though Pi realizes the importance of letting go, he regrets that he never had an opportunity to put a period on the chapters of his life. He confesses, “What always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye.” When reflecting on this, I wondered if not saying goodbye, even in my own life, symbolizes a hiatus rather than a finale. Then again, I always wish I had bid my dog adieu before he passed. I wonder, if at the end of my phase as a Graded student, I’ll wrap the story up with goodbyes, keeping in mind that I might not see some of my classmates ever again, or transition smoothly and independently into my next phase, letting go of the life I so adored and felt attached to.

Though I know I’m unlikely to physically end up in Pi’s situation, the movie introduced me to a life-changing adventure embodying merits applicable to our everyday survival. In between Pi’s struggles are glowing sea creatures, disobedient waves, breathtaking sunrises, and glistening night skies. And so it goes with life, I guess.

the talon • 3

editors-in-chief

Recently @ Graded Knowledge, suffering, art, competition and more Julia Wu & Kyle Bissell

B

ack to School Students headed back to school after surviving the so-called apocalypse at the end of 2012, and began the year amid the contrast of bright sunlight and thunderstorms. Many of us are still recovering from the revelry of Carnaval, including Seniors who are currently being consumed by senioritis.

Band Trip Once again, the Graded Senior Band and Jazz Band impressed hundreds down in the south of Brazil. Even after 13 years of this trip, the overall enjoyment and excitement only seems to only increase. We can definitely attribute this success to the great work of Mr. Stange and his wife Lika.

Yale MUN Students from all over the world gathered together to discuss world issues in this year’s edition of Yale’s Model United Nations conference. When questioned about their experience, participants exuded excitement and recalled various unforgettable moments.

PGC Test Drive Over 30 enthusiastic juniors competed for positions as PGC leaders on the second week of February, engaging in activities and discussions that lasted all afternoon. The “torch exchange” process for PGC leaders has begun with this year’s applications.

Group 4 Juniors have recently been responsible for the increasing number of students hanging out after school in the science classrooms, ambulating in lab coats and collecting data. In the looming presentations, we can anticipate projects concerning earthworms, water in Ilha do Cardoso, the grass on our field, and a vegan Graded.

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Athletics Based on the winning scores our teams have been putting up (e.g., 32-2 for the softball boys) it seems that Graded athletics will continue its success through the entire school year. Keep In mind that this is Ney’s last year of coaching so, if you haven’t yet, be sure to go to one of the games to see a living Graded legend. Go Eagles!

Harlem Shake attempt Graded, like the rest of the world, quickly developed an obsession for the latest internet sensation: the Harlem Shake. We won’t try to explain it here, so search it up on Youtube and see for yourself.

A Facebook group was created to plan a Graded Harlem Shake but those plans were squashed by the administration that had not been forewarned. Let’s see if we can pull it off in the coming weeks.

College Acceptances You may have noticed the hallway floors have become a little hairier.

This is because Graded students have been making their school proud Lika Kishino with various college acceptances and scholarship offerings. We’re still in February so expect many more haircuts in the coming weeks.

Kaya A few weeks ago Mr. Bair and Ms. Bree welcomed their second child, the devastatingly cute Kaya. Congratulations!

Code Graded High School students once again reflected on their moral standards through the writing of “the Code.” In this edition, we questioned our ethics in the situation of finding money on the ground.

point of view

An Ode to the Present At the brink of a before, about to fall into an after Kat Aliano

Y

ou’ll hear time and time again that time is relative, espe-

my catalogue of happy memories.

cially if you’ve ever found yourself in one of Graded’s TOK

But after I slowly descended Cloud Nine and made

classes. It was Albert Einstein who said, “Put your hand on a hot

it back down to the real world I started to go through the

stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty

steps of pre-college syndrome. My mom—who’s gone through

girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That’s relativity.”

this process with two other daughters mind you—knew these

I prescribe to the belief that we all have our own individual

tell-tale signs immediately and just silently watched as I went

beats, a rhythm that we live our lives by that is affected by

through the motions. I was becoming more nostalgic, more

our internal tempos. Over the winter break I spent a week in

attached to my past: looking at old photographs and talking

Club Med, taking yoga every morning and getting some much

about when I was “young” (which, let’s be honest, makes no

needed relaxation time. By the start of the next week though,

sense). However, in the same breath I was also trying to show

I was dropped into the chaotic world of downtown Manhattan,

my independence, that I was ready to live alone. I was—and still

my steady paced steps not a match for the bustling craze of

am to a certain degree—incapable of living with the knowledge

New Yorkers and their anger when you don’t move as impos-

of being accepted into college and letting that relax me. I was

sibly fast as them.

instead latching onto the past and the future simultaneously.

So, after being traumatized when a woman crashed

Which makes me think: Do we hold on to memories to escape

into me and then proceeded to yell at me (I kid you not, she

the present or just to relish in our past? And even more than

actually uttered these words, that, among other things, she was

that, should we spend such a long time thinking about what

“walking here!”), it hit me that I was going to be spending the

came before and what is coming after?

next four years of my life in that city. And don’t get me wrong—I

We spend so long thinking and living in that “before”

love New York, I love the rude people, the unexpected kindness

phase, anxiously awaiting for the moment and building up the

of strangers, the opportunities and all that jazz. It wasn’t the

hype that by the time we have our first kisses or ask someone

prospect of living in New York that scared me, it was the idea

out or even get into college, the single moment is so fleeting

of living somewhere—anywhere—other than São Paulo, Brazil,

and has been so hyped up that we’re not sure how to feel or

in a place that wasn’t Graded School. Standing in that street

how to act afterwards. Well, for some of those things we have

corner with my toes and fingers numb in the cold of winter I

a pretty good idea of the logical next step because of what

went through one of those moments where time seemed rela-

we’ve seen in movies or heard from friends or just think is the

tive, and I was sure it slowed down, the harsh wind sparking

next best move, but then we just start an entirely new process

in me the realization that there was a high chance that I was

of befores and the hype just starts building itself up again from

having a mini life crisis. Or maybe I was just in shock because

the ashes, like a particularly annoying phoenix. But, if there’s

a stranger had just yelled obscenities in my face. Who knows?

anything that being on the cusp of college has taught me, it’s

But what I realized then, and still am processing, is what a

that Ferris Bueller and every clichéd teenage antihero in mov-

strange moment we seniors are in right now, at the brink of a

ies was kind of right.

before about to fall into the abyss of an after. Before College,

Although most of us are told that time flies when we’re

after High School. Those are two very scary and exhilarating

having fun, a study proved that when we’re enjoying ourselves,

thoughts.

when we’re submersing ourselves in a moment, time seems to

Amazingly enough just a few weeks prior to this par-

actually slow down because our minds wants us to take in every

ticular crisis, I was on the complete opposite of the emotion

aspect of the good moment we’re experiencing. So I say, why

spectrum, overjoyed because “I was going to college!” My

deny what your mind wants, why focus so much on the future

college acceptance story is as cheesy as it gets, involving The

when it’s the present we should be thinking about, when it’s

Perks of Being a Wallflower, the song “Heroes” by David Bowie

great moments that will one day be memories that we should

and a dream school saying yes. I must say though, I wouldn’t

grasp onto for dear life? Remembering is amazing and dreaming

change it for anything because as cheesy as it may be, it was

about the future is quintessentially human, but living in the

also perfect in every way, a single moment I’ve filed away under

present is underrated—and it shouldn’t be.

the talon • 5

point of view

Star Wars Snippets

Digging up some of those timeless scenes Lucas Zuccolo

W

e are now in 2013. Star Wars Episode VII is scheduled to be released in 2015. That means it’s only two years away! Okay, it’ll probably come out during the fall (northern hemisphere), so technically it’s closer to three years. And two years is not really such a short time—I mean, only recently was Episode VII’s director (J. J. Abrams) confirmed. Not to mention the possibility of a delay pushing it back, which... oh you get the point.

Fine, it’s not really that close. But it’s in the works.

Lucasfilm even postponed the release of the 3D versions of Episodes II and III so they could focus on Episode VII, which in itself is already great news. I mean, better never than late in this case, but if they’re going to be released anyways, I hope that moment can wait.

And so, in honor of the upcoming episode, I decided to reminisce on the stories so far by taking a shot at writing up some of the most memorable moments (original trilogy only, of course). And no, this was not just an excuse to re-watch the movies, I promise. Most of them feature some well-known quotes—see if you remember them all!

• The speeder slowed to a stop, parked near the edge of the cliff, and the passengers climbed out. The barren desert stretched out before them; from their vantage point, a sprawled settlement could be seen in the distance.

“Mos Eisley spaceport,” remarked Obi-wan in response to Luke’s unspoken question. “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.” He crossed his arms and grimaced. “We must be cautious.”

• “Don’t try to frighten us with your sorcerer’s ways, Lord Vader,” Admiral Motti sneered. “Your sad devotion to that ancient religion has not helped you conjure up the stolen data tapes, or given you enough clairvoyance to find the rebels’ hidden fortress—” Walking up to him, Vader lifted up his fist, pinching his fingers as though crushing an insect.

Motti suddenly broke off, the snide arrogance vanishing from his face. His face began turning red, as the other admirals stared on, awestruck; he clutched at his neck, but there was nothing there.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” stated Vader in a menacing, matter-of-fact tone.

Governor Tarkin was the first to recompose himself and break the silence. “Enough of this! Vader, release him!”

“As you wish,” answered Vader, turning away and releasing his grip. Motti fell onto the table, gasping for breath.

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As they cruised through the streets, a patrol stopped them. Stromtroopers weren’t a common sight this far in the outer rim; they were obviously here for a reason, looking for something.

“How long have you had these droids?” inquired the leader, motioning towards the back of the speeder, where Threepio and Artoo were sitting.

“About three or four seasons,” Luke answered.

“They’re up for sale if you want them,” chipped in Obi-wan.

The Stormtrooper shared a glance with his allies. “Let me see your identification,” he ordered, the suspicion rising in his voice.

Obi-wan stared at the Stormtrooper unblinkingly.

“You don’t need to see our identification,” he asserted, with a slight wave of his hand.

“We don’t need to see his identification,” the Trooper repeated obediently.

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for,” Obi-wan continued.

The Stormtrooper turned to the rest of his squad.

“These aren’t the droids we’re looking for,” he stated.

Luke gaped at the Trooper, then back at Obi-wan.

“He can go about his business,” Obi-wan added.

He turned back to the speeder. “You can go about your business.”

“Move along.”

“Move along,” the Stormtrooper commanded, waving them past. “Move along.”

• They walked into the cantina, and were instantly greeted by the loud and boisterous atmosphere. Dozens of different alien species mingled, some chatting openly, some keeping to themselves, each and every one of them with a dangerous aura around them. In the corner, a band of Biths played a light and catchy tune, in stark contrast with the chaotic and ominous ambience.

“Hey!” called out the bartender as they took a step in. “We don’t serve their kind in here.”

“What?” asked Luke, confused.

“Your droids,” he clarified, pointing at Artoo and Threepio. “They’ll have to wait outside. We don’t want them here.”

• “Fast ship? You’ve never heard of the Millenium Falcon?” Han asked in disbelief.

Ben shook his head. “Should I have?”

point of view “It’s the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs,” answered Han with a hint of insult in his voice. Obi-wan just stared on.

“I’ve outrun Imperial starships,” Han continued, leaning in. “Not the local bulk cruisers, mind you,” he added, glancing between Luke and Obi-wan, “I’m talking about the big Corellian ships now.”

Luke’s face continued blank and expressionless.

“She’s fast enough for you, old man.”

• “You can tell that to Jabba,” retorted Greedo in Huttese, “He may only take your ship.”

“Over my dead body,” replied Han defiantly.

“That’s the idea,” said Greedo, the manic glee creeping into his voice. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

“Yes, I bet you have,” remarked Han smugly.

Two shots rang out in quick succession; as the smoke cleared, Greedo fell face-first onto the table, a smoldering hole through his chest.

Han slowly got up and started to leave. As he passed the barkeep, he tossed him a coin. “Sorry for the mess.”

• “Look at him, he’s heading for that small moon,” said Luke, tracking the fighter’s trajectory across the field of view.

“I think I can get him before he gets there,” answered Han. “He’s almost in range.”

A mixture of realization and disbelief crossed Obiwan’s face. “That’s no moon, it’s a space station.”

“It’s too big, there’s no way it could be a space station,” shot back Han. Slowly but surely, though, as the Falcon approached the massive gray sphere, the details on the surface cleared up, materializing into something that was unmistakably not a moon.

“I have a very bad feeling about this...”

“Watch out, he’s loose!”

The officers drew their blasters as Han handed Chewbacca a rifle, and all hell broke loose. Bolts zinged back and forth, the smoke and muzzle flashes quickly obscured vision in the cramped room.

“Look out!” warned Luke, hitting the last of the officers as he came dashing into the room.

As quickly as it had begun, the firefight ended; the smoke cleared, with the Stormtroopers on the floor and all the cameras conveniently blown up.

Han jogged over to the control station, dragging an officer off to get at the panels. “We gotta find out what cell this princess of yours is in... there it is, 287. You go get here, I’ll hold them here,” he ordered Luke, motioning towards the hallway.

Han took of his helmet, looking around for a way to shut off the beeping alarm. “Uh, everything’s under control,”

he said into the intercom. “Situation normal.”

“What happened?” inquired a voice at the other end.

“Uh, we had a slight weapons malfunction, but uh... everything’s perfectly all right now,” Han answered, getting nervous. “We’re fine. We’re all fine here now, thank you. How are you?” he added, wincing at his own awkwardness.

“We’re sending a squad up,” the voice informed.

“Uh, uh... negative, negative. We had a reactor leak here now. Give us a few minutes to lock it down. L-Large leak, very dangerous,” Han stuttered.

“Who is this?” The suspicion was evident now. “What’s your operating number?”

“Uh...” Han glanced around, then picked up his blaster, shooting out the intercom. “Boring conversation anyway,” he muttered. “LUKE! We’re gonna have company!”

• From the window, they could see the hangar bay.

“You came in that thing?” Leia mocked, motioning towards the Millenium Falcon, sitting in the center of the room with a squad of Stormtroopers standing guard. “You’re braver than I thought.”

“Nice. Come on.” replied Han dryly.

Exiting to the hallway, they ran straight into a squad of Stormtroopers.

“It’s them! Blast them!” exclaimed the squad leader; Han managed to get off the first shot while they fumbled with their holsters.

“Get back to the ship!” he yelled back as he ran off after the Troopers, Chewbacca hot on his heels.

“Where are you going? Come back!” exclaimed Luke.

“He certainly has courage,” Leia remarked with a hint of sincerity.

“Yeah, but what good will it do us if he gets himself killed?“ They rushed back in the direction of the ship.

Turning a corner, Han ran straight into an entire platoon; his bravado was instantly replaced by surprise, which quickly gave way to slight chagrin. He managed to get a single shot off out of reflex before turning heel and running back the way he had come.

In the meanwhile, Luke and Leia ran into a dead end; a chasm with the sole bridge retracted.

“I think we took a wrong turn,” Luke remarked. Down the hall, a group of Stormtroopers turned the corner and opened fire.

Leia jumped to the controls and slammed shut the blast doors, cutting of the blaster shots. “There’s no lock!” she cried out in frustration.

Luke improvised by blasting the panel with his rifle; “That ought to hold them for a while.”

They both turned their attention back to the chasm.

“Quick, we’ve got to get across! Find the controls that extend the bridge!”

“Ah,” sighed Luke, “I think I just blasted it.”

the talon • 7

ponto de vista

Tragédia anunciada Haveria como evitá-la?

Luiza Gundim

N

essa altura, acredito que todos já tenham se cansado de ouvir notícias e mais notícias sobre o incêndio que vitimou mais de duzentos e trinta jovens na boate Kiss, em Santa Maria, Rio Grande do Sul. Quando tragédias assim acontecem, há várias maneiras de analisar o ocorrido. Embora a mídia brasileira já tenha explorado quase todas as questões que envolveram o desastre de Santa Maria, inclusive as que beiram o absurdo como “ligações telefônicas entre as vítimas do incêndio” e “conheça as vítimas”... ofereço-lhe agora, caro leitor, minha humilde opinião sobre o assunto.

Já sabíamos Vivemos num país em que, como todos sabemos, chove em demasia no verão e há inúmeras moradias irregulares em áreas de risco. Mesmo assim, as autoridades só lembram de “resolver” o problema depois que a terra já deslizou. Foi assim em Santa Maria. Sabíamos que a comoção só se manifestaria depois da tragédia. Sabíamos que não havia fiscalização o suficiente para prevenir que um incêndio causasse tantas mortes. Aceitávamos o fato de que a segurança ineficiente da boate não protegeria os clientes. A ineficiência da máquina administrativa era, e ainda é, evidente, mas só a levamos em conta quando torna-se responsável pela morte de tantos jovens. A tragédia era iminente.

O ato de legalizar fora da legalidade Não importa se foi o alvará vencido ou o tamanho reduzido da única saída, ou até o número de pessoas além da capacidade.

Parece que temos o péssimo costume de burlar a lei por motivos que não deixam de ser egoístas. E que surjam mais provas, mais culpados, mais evidências de que o estabelecimento em questão não deveria estar funcionando. Tragédias desta magnitude não poderão ser evitadas se a lei, a fiscalização e a ética continuarem a ser desrespeitadas assim.

Um brinde ao jeitinho brasileiro Legalizar na ilegalidade, embora evidente com os chamados “culpados” pela catástrofe, é apenas um reflexo do que acontece diariamente em diversas situações na sociedade.

Estacionar em vaga de idoso, usar identidade falsa para ser aceito em lugares onde menores de idade não podem entrar, todas essas ações que normalmente são consideradas inócuas, são fatores que levam indivíduos a achar que manter aberta uma boate sem extintores de incêndio e sem pessoal treinado para situações de emergência, não vá causar problemas. É o chamado jeitinho brasileiro que, dependendo da situação, só nos prejudica.

Não adianta buscar responsáveis Foi o dono da boate? O corpo de bombeiros? Os seguranças que supostamente não deixaram as pessoas sair? Difícil dizer.

8 • the talon

É mais provável que tenha sido uma combinação de fatores que levaram ao acidente. É claro que a justiça procurará culpados, e haverá de condená-los. Não digo que seja uma ação errada, mas acredito que deveríamos nos preocupar mais com a prevenção de tragédias subsequentes, para poupar mais vidas jovens e inocentes.

Até que ponto somos nós os culpados? É fácil dizer que os outros são culpados. Mas somos nós que aceitamos um serviço de má-qualidade, sem saber se está de acordo com a lei ou se há saídas de emergência suficientes no local onde estamos. Toleramos o intolerável. Quantas vezes entramos num restaurante sem saber se tem um alvará de funcionamento? E quem presta atenção nas instruções de emergência ao entrar no avião? Devemos prestar mais atenção nos detalhes. E temos que ser mais exigentes.

Um fim ao complexo de inferioridade Sim, a tragédia aconteceu em Santa Maria, Rio Grande do Sul, Brasil. Mas poderia ter ocorrido em outro lugar do mundo. Incêndio não é privilégio de país pobre, principalmente quando já houve tantas situações parecidas em “países de primeiro mundo.” O incêndio na boate The Station em Rhode Island, em 2007, também foi causado por efeitos pirotécnicos. Já no clube Cromañón, em 2004, em Buenos Aires, o fogo foi instigado pela falta de extintores e outras medidas de prevenção de incêndio. No Cocoanut Grove, em Boston, morreram 492 pessoas na década de 40. Não somos os únicos. Chega desse complexo de inferioridade frente a outros países.

Cultura de prevenção Não nos enganemos. Há uma pequena diferença entre o Brasil e os outros países. Todos os exemplos acima resultaram numa melhora na legislação e fiscalização dos estabelecimentos.

Acidentes podem acontecer no mundo inteiro, e a diferença está na maneira como encaramos o ocorrido. Nada serve como consolo para aqueles que perderam entes queridos, mas certamente podemos agir para que isso não aconteça novamente e criar a chamada cultura de prevenção.

E agora?

Toda a comoção causada nas redes sociais, na mídia internacional, todo o esforço gerado não pode se esvair sem que algo seja feito. Agir. Não podemos esperar que a próxima tragédia aconteça para abrirmos nossos olhos. Senão, virá o carnaval, o fim do verão, depois o outono e com ele o esquecimento, prevendo o perigo de mais uma tragédia anunciada, e que, mesmo assim, fingimos não conhecer, como se preferíssemos acreditar que tudo foi mera fatalidade.

ponto de vista

Não existe amor em SP Os pioneiros da guerra civil tupiniquim ensinam os belicistas do norte Giovanna Régis tualmente há uma acalorada discussão política nos E.U.A.

A

lerância, entendimento, colaboração, harmonia, compaixão...

a respeito do alto número de vítimas fatais decorrentes de

A solução parece simples, parece até clichê, de tão mal

ataques com armas de fogo. O governo norte-americano, que

interpretada: precisamos de educação. Não, não é pra termos,

sempre foi permissivo quanto ao porte de armas, entra agora

além da aula de artes, música, filosofia e sociologia, aula de

em uma polêmica: sim ou não? Os argumentos são ilusivos e o

armas de fogo ou segurança pessoal (embora, se pensarmos

país não sabe o que fazer (boa sorte, Obama!). Então, como

bem, não seria tão má ideia assim) no currículo oficial aprovado

bons vizinhos, temos que compartilhar nossa experiência; e

pelo MEC. Mas o conhecimento, infelizmente, continua sendo

nada mais que oportuno para tentarmos, ao mesmo tempo,

a chave para a condição humana, para a nossa sobrevivência.

encontrar uma solução para a onda de violência que assolou

A simples noção de que todos somos seres humanos e devemos

São Paulo nos últimos meses.

nos respeitar mutuamente parece banal para alguns, mas é

Em 2005, o Brasil passou por um referendo sobre a

inegavelmente rara; especialmente para aqueles moleques

questão do porte de armas: ilegal ou não? O país falou e o go-

que não têm vergonha, nem cara-de-pau, e quebram o vidro do

verno ouviu (ou pelo menos gostaríamos de acreditar que foi

seu carro pra pegar seu rádio, o rádio! Ou aquele engravatado

assim), e hoje o porte de armas para civis é ilegal. A questão

que senta num escritório com ar-condicionado em Brasília e

gira em torno da segurança brasileira, como se o problema fosse

decide, na calada da noite, que o preço da gasolina tem que

a arma e não o atirador. Em 7 anos, por exemplo, a violência

subir. A situação tem que mudar, concordo. Mas existem dois

paulista aumenta exponencialmente e São Paulo sofre nas mãos

lados da mesma moeda.

do PCC com dezenas de mortes todos os dias enquanto, paralela-

Quando os Estados Unidos aprovaram a Lei Seca no co-

mente, a blindagem de carros na cidade lucra no mesmo ritmo.

meço do século XX, dado que a bebida alcoólica pode ser fatal,

Até que ponto, então, a ilegalidade do porte de armas,

foi registrado um recorde do consumo de bebidas alcoólicas.

confirmada pelo referendo de 2005, trouxe calma e segurança

Hoje, a consciência de que o álcool traz consigo consequên-

para as famílias brasileiras que continuam à mercê dos crimi-

cias irrevogáveis é bastante comum por lá e a fiscalização do

nosos portadores de armas? Quem quer ter armas, tem armas

consumo é até tão grande que se cria um movimento oposto

e ponto final. Não é porque o casamento homossexual é ilegal

– afinal, trata-se da terra dos livres. O governo estado-uniden-

que não existem casais gays, nem porque a maconha é ilegal

se se responsabiliza por permiti-lo, e cria regulamentações

que 1,5 milhões de usuários deixam de desfrutar da erva diaria-

específicas, punições e uma fiscalização assustadora. É claro

mente no país. Ou seja, aqueles que estão dispostos a infringir

que tragédias continuam ocorrendo, mas o governo diz ter

a lei o ponto de roubar e sequestrar, estão dispostos a traficar

total e completo conhecimento sobre elas. Se uma iniciativa

armas (e já que estamos chutando o pau da barraca, chutemos

preventiva e bem-preparada fosse possível para o porte de

de verdade... quem quer parar na pistola? É o fuzil a resposta,

armas de fogo como é para a licença de direção, todas as

rapaziada! Daí, sim, teremos uma real vantagem sobre esses

armas brasileiras seriam, no mínimo, rastreáveis e, no melhor

trouxas pagadores de impostos). Mas quem foi que disse que

cenário, portadas por aqueles que passam por rigorosos testes

fogo se apaga com fogo?

psicológicos, teóricos e práticos além de pagar uma taxa para

Se no último sábado, quando um amigo meu foi abor-

o futuro “DETRAN da arma”.

dado à mão armada, ele tivesse puxado seu próprio revólver

Mas, francamente, se nem o país maravilha que é os

do bolso e disparado contra seu malfeitor, o único resultado

Estados-Unidos está conseguindo manter tal posição quem será

teria sido um banho de sangue na Giovanni Gronchi e a confir-

que conseguirá competir? Se correr o bicho pega, se ficar o

mação errônea de que o porte de uma arma de fogo aplaca o

bicho come. Alguém se voluntaria a ser tribute?

sentimento de constante perigo e risco de vida a que estamos submetidos nas grandes cidades. É como se a vida, nesse caso, se tornasse uma brincadeira. E é esse o problema: a vida não deveria ser brincadeira pra ninguém. Deve haver respeito, to-

the talon • 9

ponto de vista

O Refúgio Uma crônica sobre a rotina Fernão Mesquita

C

ansei de tanta mentira. Cansei dos dias iguais, da rotina.

Cansei de mim e de me deixar sempre em última opção.

Cansei de procurar meus amigos. Cansei de mentir pra mim, pra ver se dói menos. Cansei de me preocupar com quem não se preocupa comigo. Cansei de sofrer e de acordar indisposta, cansei de sentir o coração bater mais forte, com uma sensação de arrependimento, de erro. Cansei de tudo.”

– Clarice Lispector Cansei.

Cansei, cansei, cansei. Cansei de tudo e de todos. E fugi. *** À beira daquela represa, sinto os sons do vento, da água e da própria respiração se misturarem e formarem um estrondoso silêncio. Estou calmo, e percebo ter chegado a um lugar maravilhoso.

As cores do sol a cada momento provocam tons diferentes, seja no chão envermelhado, nas árvores secas ou no próprio céu. Fechando os olhos posso sentir toda essa combinação tocar-me a pele, e todas as frustrações se esvaem como que filtradas pela beleza de meus arredores. Todos os sentimentos vêm a tona mas apenas a paz e a tranquilidade permanecem, enquanto todas as preocupações são levadas pelo vento, se dissipando no ar. Paz. É tudo que eu preciso.

Nas noites, mergulhadas na escuridão total, é possível ouvir a música criada pelos animais escondidos na densa e virgem mata. É como uma bolha imaginária, excluída do mundo real e da selva de pedra em que vivia ultimamente. O sono, ajudado pelo pequenino, porém potente, ventilador, bate rapidamente e um novo dia amanhece num piscar de olhos.

Na vida que levava, era um prisioneiro do cotidiano, do dinheiro e dos negócios. Minha vida se tornara uma grande e interminável rotina. Mesmo que involuntariamente a vida de qualquer um cai numa rotina recorrente. Mas para mim, a vidinha mundana, as tardes intermináveis martelando um teclado num cubículo claustrofóbico, o salário que pagava certinho as despesas do mês, o carrinho popular... Nada disso me cativava, me excitava. Precisava de algo a mais.

E foi naquele lugarzinho perdido no nada que encontrei refúgio. O afastamento total e a impossibilidade de comunicação com o mundo exterior me agradava profundamente.

10 • the talon

E tudo era novo. O suor gratificante de um longo dia de trabalho, as mãos calejadas pelos afazeres campestres, aquele cheirinho de capim molhado. Tudo era mais simples e ao mesmo tempo mais instigante.

Os dias iam passando e minha alma adquiria uma leveza jovial, alegre, como se um peso tivesse sido retirado de minhas costas. O leite coberto por natas, o cheiro vivo do matagal e o pio vibrante dos passarinhos eram como a quinta sinfonia para meus ouvidos, um aroma rústico para meu olfato, um manjar dos deuses para meu paladar. Aquele pequeno sítio agradava todos os meus sentidos completamente.

Estava feliz. *** Semanas, meses, e quando vejo, um ano se passara.

Acordo. Escovo meus dentes e procuro cuidar dos afazeres da vida rural. Tiro leite da vaca. Tomo. É o mesmo gosto de sempre. Colho as frutas do pomar. Provo um morango. O mesmo gosto.

A paisagem é a mesma. Os mesmos montes ofuscados pela neblina. Os mesmos ipês que florescem na primavera e logo secam. A mesma represa. Ir àquela represa, olhar a mesma paleta de cores formar-se e repetir-se todos os dias. O local perdia seu mistério, sua aura.

Encontro os amigos no bar de seu Divino.

– Tudo bão? – pergunto.

– Bão!

– Intão tá bão.

O mesmo não-assunto de sempre. A mesma bebida de sempre. A mesma vida de sempre.

Sempre. Eis a questão. As coisas sempre caem no sempre. Nos acostumamos muito rapidamente às coisas novas. E é assim, rapidamente, que caímos na rotina. Tais coisas novas tornam-se ligeiramente velhas, substituíveis, abandonáveis. O “novo” é uma qualidade efêmera.

Mas isso não significa que esqueci o refúgio. Estou procurando por outro, pois é assim, nessas coisas novas, nesses momentos passageiros de plenitude, que encontro meu abrigo.

news

Xi Jinping: Reformer or Conservative?

We keep asking the wrong question

Daniel Almeida

M

uch has been said and written on the prospects for reform in China since the eighteenth Communist Party Congress last November, but very few analyses offer anything that is truly original or illuminating. This shouldn’t be a surprise, given that most commentaries try to address questions, such as “Are the new leaders reformers or conservatives?” “Does Xi Jinping have enough power to push through reforms?” “What must the new leadership do if it serious about reform?” While such questions are not completely invalid, they inevitably lead to highly subjective and speculative conclusions that are of very limited value.

Better questions are needed in order to produce more useful analyses and forecasts of China’s political development.

Such analyses should start by recognizing two facts. First, the new leadership’s various initiatives and pronouncements after taking office indicate that it fully accepts the need for change. Second, to quote American political scientist Samuel Huntington, the leadership is clearly aiming at “some change but not total change, gradual change but not convulsive change.” In short, the leadership wants controlled reform, not a revolution or regime change.

In this context, instead of asking if Xi Jinping, General Secretary of the Communist Party of China, as well as the Chairman of the Party Central Military Commission and his colleagues, have the desire and power to launch substantial reforms, it might be more useful to examine this question: To what extent is the new leadership alert to the risks and pitfalls of reform and how does it intend to deal with them?

How do they attempt to manage the risks then?

First, in all his major speeches since becoming party leader, Xi Jinping has repeatedly and unequivocally stated that China must adhere to Marxism and the socialist path so as to carry out reform under the Communist Party’s leadership.

While these speeches are bound to disappoint liberals and many foreign China watchers, they fulfill two crucial purposes: reassuring conservatives who worry that reform would lead to Soviet-style collapse of the party and the state, and sending a clear message to liberals to discourage them from advocating for radical change.

Second, recognizing the importance of finding the right methods, the new leadership has refrained from drawing a de-

tailed roadmap for reform, opting instead for an approach that combines (loosely translated from Chinese) “top-level design” and “crossing the river by feeling the stones.” This approach leaves room for adjustments and corrections should any reform measure go awry. It favors phased reform over shock therapy and also ensures that the leadership does not have to show its hand too early, which could serve to alert and galvanize the potential opposition.

Third, the leadership stresses that in deciding how fast and vigorously to push through reform measures, the main consideration is that stability should not be jeopardized. In Xi Jinping’s words, the degree of intensity of reform and the speed of development must match the level of social tolerance for them.

Finally, after taking office, the leadership quickly launched new initiatives aimed at fighting corruption, curtailing the privileges of officials and curing bureaucratic malaise. In contrast, it has proceeded cautiously on the issues of media censorship, freedom of speech or freedom of information.

This shows that the leadership has prioritized reform measures that images1.wikia.nocookie.net have the broadest popular support and promised concrete benefits to the populace over reforms that appeal most to liberal intellectuals and that tend to raise expectations and stimulate discontent rather than increase satisfaction with the government’s performance.

While China’s new leaders have given clear signals that they are mindful of the challenges and risks of reform and will work hard to maintain a steady course, they have not articulated the goals of the reform they have vowed to pursue. We do not know how much change Xi Jinping wishes to bring out. In Xi’s decision to hold back from outlining a reform program lies a risk of fueling the charge that he is not a genuine reformer.

In other words, there is no point in asking how far reform will go under Xi’s leadership, since in his vision it will never stop. Whether they believe Xi’s promise of unending reform, given the difficulties of implementing reform in China’s present condition, pundits should give Xi and his colleagues more time before drawing conclusions on their commitment to reform and their chances of success.

Sources: news.xinhuanet.com; online.wsj.com

the talon • 11

news

500 Days in Antartica The re-creation of an astonishing rescue mission Andrea Ferreira

E

veryone likes a good survival story, from that of Aron Ralston, who managed to survive being trapped inside a canyon under an 800-pound boulder by amputating his own arm, to that of sixteen passengers aboard the plane carrying the Uruguayan rugby team, which crashed in the Andes mountains in October, 1972. We are awed by these spectacular human beings. Out of the forty-five people on board the Uruguayan pane, seventeen died due to the crash or related injuries within the first two days, another person due to injuries sustained on the eighth day, and eight more from an avalanche. The shocking survival of the remaining sixteen is what has inspired scores of movies and books, as these cold and starving passengers resorted to cannibalism to stay alive. These are, of course, remarkable real-life survival stories.

There is also Survivor, which is one of the longest running reality shows ever with its twenty-two seasons, which sends participants to a secluded area (usually an island or jungle) and forces them to survive on necessities that can only be won in challenges, and the popular trilogy-turned-box-office-hit, The Hunger Games. The success of this program and movie show how people can’t seem to get enough of survival tales. With the clear success of these stories, it was only a matter of time before some crazy adventurers decided to recreate famous survival stories for themselves, which is exactly where Tim Jarvis, an Australian explorer, and his crew of five come in.

The inspiration for the Aussie’s journey comes from that of the polar explorer Ernest Shackleton’s 1916 journey, which he called the Imperial Transantarctic Expedition, one of the first attempts at reaching the South Pole through travelling across the Antarctic Ocean. Aboard a ship rightfully named, Endeavor, Shackleton and 27 of his friends and devoted crew members began their expedition, undoubtedly having no idea that they were about to be stranded in the world’s coldest ocean for nearly two years.

The crew’s story of survival is definitely one worth learning about, as, even after a century, many still recognize it as the most astonishing rescue missions ever. After successfully sailing for one month, temperatures dropped to so low that the ship was frozen solid and sunk. The crew was forced to abandon ship and seek shelter on Elephant Island, which was barren of resources necessary for survival. That’s when Shackleton and five others set out on small lifeboat, the James Caird, that they had managed to salvage, and with the promise of finding help for the remaining 21, rowed for over two weeks (travelling a distance the equivalent of 1,482 km, the distance

12 • the talon

of roughly 35 marathons) through giant icy waves until reaching the island of South Georgia. Their journey didn’t end there, for upon reaching land they had to travel an additional 32 miles along a treacherous mountainside before finally reaching help.

While Jarvis was surprisingly not the first to attempt this expedition’s feat, he is arguably the craziest. To keep his voyage as accurate as the original, Jarvis actually reenacted the whole scene: his boat is a replica of the Endeavor’s lifeboat, and he only brought equipment that was used in the original voyage (only things found in the early 1900s are to be brought).

This means that, while attempting to trek the South Georgian mountainside, all he and his crew had to climb was a small bit of rope and an axe. Amongst items deemed appropriate were handmade sleeping bags from reindeer skin, an ever-tasty and nutritious mixture of concentrated fat and protein called pemmican, and even a brand of whisky called “Whyte & Maccay,” Jarvis proudly admitted, as this was said to be Shackleton’s favorite brand. In fact, the only alterations that Jarvis’s expedition underwent from the original were better emergency gear and radios.

His planned voyage was undoubtedly easier than the original one despite Jarvis’ attempt to stay as close to the original as possible; for safety purposes the crew had a modern boat (with modern-day technology and abilities) following their every turn in case of emergency. Also, Jarvis decided to forgo the extra 500 days stranded in Antarctica of the original voyage. Despite these added protections, Jarvis crewmember, Nick Bubb, still held apprehensions about the journey. According to him, the fact that the boat was outdated, for example, lacking a part called the keel, meant the boat could have easily overturned in the choppy waves. On top of this, the crew was also without navigating technologies, as they used celestial navigation, so even a cloudy day will proved to be problematic.

Even his decidedly more optimistic leader agreed that “there is a certain amount of luck involved” in recent interviews.

Jarvis and his crew are certainly six of Shackleton’s most devoted fans, as they claim the main motivation behind risking their lives was to honor the almost century-old journey and its incredible navigator—not break any records. Being an environmental scientist, he was quick to add that the voyage also benefitted knowledge over climate change in Antarctica.

Whatever Jarvis’s intentions were, he has collected fans around the world.

news

Surviving Sexual Slavery From books to reality Annie Groth

R

oom, by Emma Donoghue, is a novel about a young woman in her early twenties who lives in an 11-by-11-foot room with her son. They spend their days talking, exercising around the table, watching TV, and playing a game of seeing who can scream the loudest. Each day Jack, who is 5 years old, loves to play with Eggshell snake and watch his best friend Dora until he has to go in wardrobe at night when Old Nick comes and makes the bed squeak.

This is the fictional reality of a girl kidnapped on her way to her college class, brought into a soundproof room where she has spent the last seven years in. Her capturer abuses her almost every night and has even conceived two children with her, one of which survived birth. This story may seem too horrible to be true and that is why it is fictional, but truth is, reality is much worst than that.

January 11th marked the National Human Trafficking Awareness Day in the U.S. Not only is it a day to raise awareness, but to remember the hundreds of thousands of victims who suffer from human trafficking and abuse, including but not limited to: sexual exploitation, forced labor, and extensive domestic work. The U.N (United Nations) estimates that 700 thousand people, including children, are annually enslaved in the world. This is a worldwide issue that must be acted upon. Unfortunately, over the years this type of trafficking has become much more organized and violent. It is now the fastest-growing business of organized crime and the third largest criminal enterprise in the world.

But why traffic a human being? As Alessandra Serano, an Assistant United States Attorney for the Southern District of California puts it, “You can sell drugs once, but you can sell a girl thousands of times.”

In the US alone, the FBI estimates a total of 293,000 teenagers and children are suffering from human trafficking at this instant. One of these victims, Asia Graves, was first trafficked when she was only 16. She had what experts call the key to the perfect victim: vulnerability. Graves was recently

homeless, had a drug addicted mother, and had been molested when she was younger. One night, a group of girls approached her on the highway where she had been living and offered to clean her up. They got her food, a place to shower, and new clothes to wear. She asked them where they had gotten all their money from, as she noticed they seemed to only still be in high school. They told her they were escorts and made $2,000 dollars a night. After a terrifying night, which Graves only made $40 dollars from begging, the girls abandoned her.

The next night, a man picked her up again with the promise of giving Graves a warm place to stay at and better clothes to wear. Little did she know, this would be her first trafficker.

She was taken across the U.S, being exchanged from dealer to dealer, until finally she found herself helping recruit girls like she once was.

Now 24, Graves works for a non-profit called Fair Girls, one of many organizations which helps educate usatoday.com schools and students about the issue. She says she considers herself lucky as she is now studying to receive a diploma for Political Science. The sad truth about sexual trafficking is that for a lot of victims it has no end. The way this story usually ends is through death by either a drug overdose as drugs are often a way of keeping control over victims or through a beating that has gone too far.

What the book Room and the real life case of Alicia Graves have in common are the horrors of sexual trafficking.

One tells it through the eyes of a woman desperately trying to live day by day so she can take care of her son Jack. The other victim actually managed to turn her life around by joining an organization that tries to help people who are in the same situation she once was. No matter how personal the details of sexual exploitation can be, one thing remains the same for all victims: the desire to survive.

Sources: cnn.com; usatoday.com; fbi.gov

the talon • 13

features

Dealing with the Past Long German words are the best Adam Hunt Fertig

B

ad things happen. A lot. On the news, we hear about war after war, dictatorship after dictatorship, massacre after massacre. A lot of this talk about the apocalypse seems to be stemming from the “bad state the world’s in.” The thing is, the world’s always in a bad state somehow—sad, but true.

Rather than indulge in a melodramatic tirade bemoaning the loss of dignity in a corrupt society (which many people talking about sad events do), I’d like to focus on the less tragic part of tragedies: getting over them. Moving on after a tragedy is by no means less painful than the tragedy itself, but at least it means things will be all right eventually. My question, though, is how a culture comes to terms with its unpleasant past. How does a culture survive a traumatic event? Germans, living up to their reputation, provides us with a ridiculously long word for a philosophical problem: Vergangenheitsbewältigung. It’s a mouthful, but it literally translates just as “dealing with the past” (by the way, Germans have not one, but three different words for this idea, the others being the equally difficult Geschichtsaufarbeitung and Vergangenheitsaufarbeitung).

Studying Vergangenheitsbewältigung is fascinating because each culture handles it differently. And a nation’s struggle to come to terms with the past is quite telling about their culture because; as novelist George Santayana said, “those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.”

As you can probably tell, Vergangenheitsbewältigung originated in a place that’s a strong example of it: Germany.

After the horrors of World War II and the Holocaust, Germany knew it had some making up to do, both to the world and to herself. And many agree that she has done more than enough in that regard. The immense Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin, for instance, is a constant testament to the nation’s atonement. In a darkly ironic twist of events, though, the protective covering on the blocks of the memorial was manufactured by the same company that manufactured Zyklon B, the poisonous substance used in gas chambers.

Politician Wolfgang Thierse responded to criticism of this by simply saying, “The past intrudes into our society.” Germany, along with South Africa, is often praised as countries that have overcome its past in a healthy way. Yet, at least symbolically, Germany has not yet “healed.”

Perhaps the exact opposite of this can be seen in Spain. The Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) and the subsequent dictatorship are not nearly as well known as the Third Reich, especially to younger people. Internationally, there has been much less discussion about the oppression that occurred. On a national scale, too, there has been silence. When the dictator

14 • the talon

Francisco Franco died and the transition to democracy began, politicians and the elite reached an unspoken agreement to not speak of the atrocities of the regime. This was known as the Pact of Forgetting, and it was in place until 2007 when the Law of Historical Memory was passed. This policy of historical silence has rubbed off on Spain’s people as well. There is very little talk about the Civil War, and, as a result of this, many argue that the nation has suffered. For example, much of the violence and tyranny was directed at Catalonia, a province of Spain. Without openness about this violence, an increasingly dangerous rift has developed between Catalonia and Madrid.

This can be seen in the bull-and-donkey bumper stickers on Spanish cars, and matches between Real Madrid and FC Barça are not only competitive, but political. After all, as author Javier Cercas put it, “The national sport of Spain is not soccer, it’s civil war.”

Not only that, Cercas says, but “war is the continental sport of Europe.” The endless cycle of tyranny and bloodshed means that there are certain recurring issues when it comes to Vergangenheitsbewältigung. There’s always the question of justice versus truth, for one thing. When a nation’s past is revisited, some say the goal should be assessment and discussion of tragedies, while others say the goal should be prosecution of those responsible for them. Understandably, victims want compensation, but that just seems like it would prolong the cycle. Another popular technique for dealing with the past is, bluntly, waiting for those involved to die.

There are no consequences if there are none affected. But if you consider that proper recovery requires participation of those involved, all that means is that there’s a window of opportunity for reconciliation.

The bottom line is that whatever fancy German word you have for it, reconciliation with the past isn’t easy for a country—or, for that matter, an individual. The concept of Vergangenheitsbewältigung applied to one’s personal traumatic past is an equally painful ordeal. Maybe a more important question than “how does a culture survive a traumatic event?” is “how do we survive a traumatic event?”

If history has taught us anything, it’s that there’s no right or simple way to do it. It’s also taught us, though, that if we don’t face the past, we won’t recover from it. Only by going through this catharsis, either as citizens or humans, can we survive.

Sources: goethe.de; bbc.co.uk

features

Science Has It...

Finding your inner cave-dweller Mariana Lepecki

I

t’s a warm summer day around 2.9 million B.C. You’re enjoying a nice stroll in the shaded area of the woods near your cave when you suddenly find a tree covered with ripe fruit.

Immediately taking advantage of this serendipitous moment, you begin to climb the tree, too hungry to think about anything other than your stomach.

While you enjoy your fifth mouthful of fruit, you suddenly hear a faint rustling of leaves coming from the branch above you. Before you can even think about descending from the tree, a spotted feline jumps on your back and begins to claw at you. You wrestle with the beast for what seems like hours, using up all of your strength to push its massive body away from you. Your heart beats rapidly while 10,000 butterflies take over your stomach. When you finally succeed, your body freezes as your brain begins to process its next decision—one that would ultimately save your life. Should you meekly run away and keep your life, or fight viciously in the hopes of returning home as the bravest specimen of your species?

Though the reference to an Australopithecus africanus1 may be a little outdated, our chemical and physiological responses to survival situations remain exactly the same as those of our ancestors.

Commonly known to most as “the butterflies in my stomach feeling that makes my heart beat really fast,” the term “fight or flight” response was coined by American physiologist Walter B. Cannon at the turn of the 20th century. Today, it is known as the first stage of the coordinated response, or “stress response,” a bodily procedure that involves the communication between the sympathetic nervous system2, the hypothalamus3, the pituitary gland,4 adrenal gland,5 liver and thyroid gland6.

Here’s how the reaction works: while it seems like your body and brain are frozen and incapable of reacting to anything, they are actually breaking a lot of sweat trying to help you survive your emergency situation.

Stage 1 The “fight or flight” response starts when your sympathetic nervous system sends various signals to your organs.

The reason your heart begins to beat rapidly is because this signal 1 One of Homo sapiens’ earliest relatives that contained a combination of human and ape-like features.

2 One of the two main parts of the autonomic nervous system that controls automatic responses to emergency situations.

3 A portion of the brain that connects the nervous system to the endocrine system.

4 Located at the bottom of the hypothalamus and helps connect it to the endocrine system.

5 An endocrine gland that releases hormones in response to stress.

6 One of the largest endocrine glands that controls how quickly the body uses up energy and its sensitivity to hormones.

leads to a secretion of a chemical known as norepinephrine, which stimulates your heart and blood vessels by increasing your heart rate, blood pressure and blood flow. Moreover, this signal stimulates your lungs to expand your airways, a process which brings more oxygen to the body due to the increase of breathing. The signals also stimulate the breaking down of stores of glycogen found in your liver.

Stage 2 Because the processes of Stage 1 cannot be kept up for very long, it is now about time for the “resistance” stage to kick in. It is here that the hypothalamus sends signals to the pituitary glands to secrete various hormones, such as the andrenocorticotropic, human growth and thyroid stimulating hormones. The andrenocorticotropic hormones act on the adrenal gland, causing it to stow cortisol (a steroid hormone that increases blood sugar). The human growth hormone, on the other hand, acts on the liver encouraging it to secrete insulinlike growth factors. Finally, the thyroid stimulating hormone acts on the thyroid gland and causes it to secrete thyroid hormones.

These hormones enable the liver to break down glycogen and release glucose, stimulate fat tissue to break down fats and release fatty acids and cause skeletal muscle to break down protein and release amino acids. In the last step of this stage, the glucose, fatty acids and amino acids travel through the blood to millions of cells that use them for energy, providing more sustained supplies of energy (consequently generating an appearance of increased stamina).

Stage 3 Though most responses to stress usually stop at stage two 2and gradually reach homeostasis (stability of the human body, where temperature and sodium levels are kept at a constant level) once more, Stage 3 represents the last stage of the “stress response.” Known as “exhaustion,” it is caused by prolonged exposures to cortisol, which in turn decreases your body’s energy stores, wastes muscles away and weakens the immune system. The body can no longer respond to stress and becomes more vulnerable to disease.

And there you have it—your body’s amazing work during life-threatening seconds. So the next time you narrate a “near death experience” you might think twice about recalling how you “froze,” opting instead to describe how your sympathetic nervous system kicked some serious chemical butt when sending out signals to your organs! Or maybe not… If you don’t want to put your friends and family to sleep…

Sources: humanorinins.si.edu; brainimmune.com; curiosity. discovery.com

the talon • 15

features

To Beach or Not to Beach How I survived a rainy summer Julia Abreu

W

hen you think of summer in Brazil, the first two things that most likely come to mind are sun and beach. That’s what I thought I was going to experience by staying in Brazil over break: The postcard image of a golden beach covered by a gleaming blue sky, and the happy people making their way to the lukewarm ocean to refresh themselves from the excruciating yet welcome heat. For some reason, this summer was different.

By the end of November, I was pale and sickly-looking, because school tends to do that to a student in her last years of high school. My biggest wish was for vacation to come soon so that I could travel to the beach and regain my color. My bags were packed, and I didn’t forget my sunglasses either, but little did I know that they would remain in my bag for most of the trip. If you went to any Brazilian beach over vacation and experienced more rain than sun, you’ll understand my complaints, but if you did get a large amount of sunlight throughout those six weeks, then I’m jealous.

We arrived at the beach after many hours of traffic, thinking that it would be at least a little sunny. We were so wrong. It was raining so much that all we could do was sit in the living room and watch TV. I don’t like watching TV, so that was already a bummer on the first day. Then, more and more people from my family started to arrive after they’d spent many hours in the car as well, and no one could leave the apartment because of the horrible weather. Imagine your whole family just sitting there in the same area, watching Globo and eating.

Out of nearly twenty days spent at the beach, at most 7 were sunny. I can’t complain that my New Years party was rainy, because surprisingly, it was sunny all day and did not rain at night. However, it’s still disappointing to remain indoors when it’s summer at the beach.

With so much rain, all that was left to do was homework. I had plenty of work and time to do it, but I was so annoyed at the weather that I couldn’t even concentrate (maybe

16 • the talon

because I was lazy as well). My friends and I would ignore the rain and just walk outside or along the beach, and go to the pool even if it was pouring. And when I wasn’t defying the rain, I was at the overcrowded supermarket buying junk food, or inside my apartment playing Angry Birds on the iPad. Great way to spend my vacation! As for all the homework I had, I would do it late at night, after I’d spent my whole day doing lots of useless things.

I’m not going to complain that much, because I did regain my color from the few days I spent toasting under the sun, and I enjoyed my time with family and friends. The issue that probably bothered everyone who went to the beach this summer is that this year had way too much rain and way too little sun.

As I woke up on my last day at the beach to return to São Paulo, guess what the weather was like? Sunny. It felt like a curse from the sky, because I couldn’t even enjoy that day since we were leaving in the blogs.estadao.com.br morning. We were left with a feeling that those weren’t our real vacations and that somehow, school isn’t back yet and the sun will shine again. I wish.

The amazing ending to this story is that as I was hoping for Carnaval to be sunny, it was so sunny that I complained about so much heat. It’s ironic how we often wish for something so much and when we get it, we end up wishing for something else. My Carnaval definitely made up for the awful rainy vacations, and I was able to actually enjoy the beautiful beach days with gleaming sun. I spent great hours tanning under the sun and swimming in the refreshing ocean. What I learned from my bad experiences was that even if it rained during my Carnaval or any other break, I would somehow manage to do even more things than I would if there were sun. I’d go to the beach (except if there were lightning strikes, because people have died in the water during storms) and buy some corn, pastel, and ice cream. Chances are, I’ll get soaked, but that’s what a bikini and swimming shorts are for.

features

Change or More of the Same?

It’s the economy, stupid Clara Bezerra

Y

ou know, last week he gave an interview, Governor Clinton did, where he sounded as if he was getting ready to measure the drapes in the Oval Office. Well, I’ve got news for you.

Not so fast. I believe that, come November 3rd, my opponent and his saxophone will be playing that old Buck Owens classic, ‘It’s Crying Time.’” —George H. W. Bush; at a Bush-Quayle Rally in Missouri, August 21 1992.

The 1992 United States Presidential Election saw as its main candidates two men on opposite ends of the political spectrum: on one side, young, innovative, Bill Clinton, and on the other, former president and experienced national politician George H. W. Bush. When the media released scandalous information regarding Governor Clinton’s personal life, his opponents seemed certain that his campaign would fail. However, defying expectations, Bill Clinton was able to secure his political survival, aided by Bush’s disastrous first term—which left Americans yearning for change—and a brilliant staff that changed the way campaigns are structured.

Bush’s first presidential term, which lasted from 1988 to 1992, brought with it a series of negative impacts on the American people, leaving circumstances favorable for changes in the political system. Despite his promise in his acceptance speech that he would issue no new taxes, in 1990 the President increased taxes to reduce the 492 billion dollar government deficit. Both the national debt and unemployment rates increased during his term, the former rising from three to four trillion dollars, and the latter from 5.5 percent to 7.5 percent. His military expenditures were immense: he worsened the American recession through his involvement in the first Gulf War, and the cost of his ironically-named “Operation Just Cause,” the 1989 invasion of Panama to depose military dictator Manuel Noriega—whom he claimed placed United States nationals in danger—was more than 163 million dollars. Bush’s re-lection would inevitably lead to more of the same. The United States, therefore, was ready for an ideological change.

Bill Clinton’s unconventional 1992 presidential campaign, which successfully shifted the focus away from the debate regarding his character and towards his proposals, guaranteed his survival as a political figure and ensured his victory. Throughout the election, the Republican Party had two main points against

Clinton: his long-lasting affair with Gennifer Flowers, and his dodging of the Vietnam War draft. The immediate reaction of Clinton and his staff—led by two brilliant men named James Carville and George Stephanoupoulos—was to deny and evade both allegations. However, when this didn’t prove to be an effective strategy, they began to question the importance of persistent questioning regarding Clinton’s character rather than his policies. In interviews, besides referring to Bush’s previous broken promises and the country’s economic situation, Clinton, Carville, and Stephanoupoulos adopted the slogans, “Don’t forget health care,” “Change versus more of the same,” and “It’s the economy, stupid,” to emphasize to the American people that they should focus on issues that are truly important, rather than be swayed by trivial attacks on Clinton himcbsnews.com self. His opponents were not able to alter their own tactics in a way that would undermine Clinton’s new strategy, and their personal claims against the Democratic candidate lost validity. With the firm conviction that “outside of a person’s love the most sacred thing that they can give is their labor” (The War Room), and with the unbreakable belief that Clinton was the best choice for the United States, the Governor’s presidential campaign sent him to the White House, ending the Republican domination of the position.

Much like his campaign, Clinton’s presidency redefined and modernized government. He balanced the budget for the first time in thirty years and passed the North American Free Trade Agreement, which removed trade barriers between the United States, Canada, and Mexico, while maintaining a sense of humor that brought him closer to the public. Today, his influence carries on: he is one of the most active former presidents of the United States, leading a foundation that employs over 1,400 people in a fight against poverty, climate change, and disease in more than 40 countries. Although Clinton had his missteps, it is undeniable that his charisma and dedication made him an effective president, a powerful figure, and, above all, a political survivor.

Sources: data.bls.govontheissues.org; topics.nytimes.com; webspace.utexas.edu; nytimes.com; forbes.com; history. com; gpo.gov; data.bls.gov; time.com; The War Room; biography.com

the talon • 17

features

Wordplay After Doomsday Do this crossword puzzle to celebrate your continued existence Features Team

A

CROSS 1. Lonesome ______ was a male Pinta Island tortoise. He is believed to be the last known of his subspecies and died in 2012.

2. If you’re a guy and your head is ______, you probably survived senior year.

4. The gastronomical grail of Graded.

7. A local government district in Seoul, South Korea. The name of this district has recently become part of the title of a very famous song.

9. The highest population growth rate in the world is from this country in the Middle East.

10. This is the original first name of a character in a novel written by Yann Martel who had to survive adrift in the companion of a Bengal tiger.

12. Humans can only survive for around one week without this.

14. It is hard to survive Graded High School if you choose to ______.

15. This song by the band Destiny’s Child was released on May 1, 2011 in the United States.

16. The phrase that refers to a natural process resulting in the evolution of organisms best adapted to the environment is called survival of the ______.

18 • the talon

DOWN 1. This person went 21 days without food, surviving only on occasional sips of water.

3. First acronym that comes to the mind of most juniors and seniors when the word “survival” is said.

5. This country in Asia has the highest infant mortality rate in the world.

6. Graded’s weekly guide to survival.

8. Many people believe this is necessary for social survival.

11. Irish writer Michael Scott wrote: “The strong survive, but the ______ triumph.”

13. This person has survived a long while at Graded.

features

From Broadway to the UN MUN escapades

Pooja Singhi

Guest Contributor

L

ast month, eighteen students travelled with Ms. Stoneman, Mr. Potter and Ms. Hinshaw to frigid New Haven, Connecticut for the Yale Model United Nations conference. On the way, we stopped at bustling New York to sightsee. I had the tremendous pleasure of being one of those students. On the January 19, Graded delegates and faculty left their summer vacation getaways, from South Africa to Spain, in order to explore the Big Apple. Over the next four days, we did many things, from watching the award-winning Broadway musical Wicked to eating at the famous Hard Rock Café, and from shopping on Fifth avenue to remembering 9/11 at the memorial.

However, the part of the New York City experience that I and many other delegates enjoyed most was visiting the United Nations Headquarters. Upon witnessing the billowing flags at the front of the building, I was immediately struck by the astounding phenomenon that is the United Nations. In front of me waved the heritage, the patriotism, the culture of Nicaragua, the country I was representing; India, the country of my relatives; Brazil, the country that I live in; the United States of America, the country I call home; and all the other nations, the countries of my friends. The fact that all these nations from around the globe can rationally and regularly discuss the fate of seven billion individuals shows the power and importance of the United Nations in trying to achieve the impossible: international cooperation in addressing world issues.

After passing the elaborate security screenings and finally stepping through the doors of the United Nations, we were greeted by our tour guides, two women, from South Africa and South Korea, who wore the garments of their native countries.

From their awe-filled expressions upon describing the workings of the United Nations General Assembly to their traumatized tone of voice when explaining world-hunger statistics, it was evident that the two women held an extraordinary passion for international cooperation, a passion that motivated them to give five tours daily with repetitious information and little pay in the hopes that one of the individuals in their audience would be motivated to join the United Nations and benefit our world.

After the UN visit, we did some ice skating at the Rockefeller Center and had a four-second television appearance on The Today Show. Then my fellow delegates and I, as well as our three teachers, waved goodbye to New York City and boarded a two-hour bus ride to New Haven, the home of Yale University.

Upon reaching Connecticut, hundreds of delegates attending the Yale Model United Nations Conference endured the chill and trudged across the university’s campus to the cathedral in which the opening ceremony was being held. With its

grand gothic architecture and aged stained glass, the cathedral proved the perfect atmosphere to ponder the importance of Model United Nations, as well as the actions of all 1300 students in front of me. From political leaders to motivational speakers, education has repeatedly been affirmed as the only path to a better planet. Model United Nations promotes the education of millions of students around the world on past, current, and future international dilemmas, not through lectures or textbooks but rather by encouraging students to develop problem solving skills and creativity in order to advocate for the betterment of their own global community.

A profound speech by a Yale professor and the tapping of the Secretary General’s gavel kicked off the conference and, for the next three days, the majority of our time was spent scattered among a variety of committees and delegations. I represented the country of Nicaragua on the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women (UNCSW), in which we debated the horrifying issues of human trafficking and sexual violence and reproductive health support; however, the rest of Graded’s delegates spent their weekend discussing everything from the commercial use of outer space to small-arms trade.

From hurriedly scribbling a resolution with El Salvador and the Dominican Republic before the end of our unmoderated caucus to passionately speaking in defense of Nicaragua’s ban on abortion, I truly enjoyed all aspects of participating in the UNSCW because I had the opportunity to express my views on topics that really hit home, considering my parents and grandparents were born and brought up in the country with the highest rates of human trafficking worldwide. However, the most rewarding part of the conference was having the opportunity to interact and collaborate with other delegates both from the US and abroad. Both in and out of committee sessions, the intelligence and opinions of other students challenged and excited me through our heated discussions ranging from contraceptive methods in South America to the establishment of National Help Hotlines in Asia. These delegates changed my perspective on global affairs, convincing me that Model United Nations was not just an activity to add to your resume but rather an effective means of developing future world leaders.

The emotional and reflective closing ceremony marked the end of the thirty-ninth-annual Yale Model United Nations Conference as well as our escapade to the boisterous city of New York. Overall, the experiences that we had everywhere, from our formal committees to our visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, made this trip remarkably eye opening and enjoyable.

the talon • 19

features

Joaninha no porão A arte de fazer arte

Fabio Rocco

Guest Contributor

N

a escuridão do porão, um sorriso. Era um sorriso torto, quase verde. Torto porque era um sorriso enrustido, e verde porque era meio doentio. Agora, num momento de pura (ou não tão pura) felicidade, ele escapulira. Uma vez só não há de fazer mal.

A solidão do porão certamente conseguiria pulverizar todo e qualquer resquício de sentimento. Afinal, para que sentimento? Se a arte é a mais bela expressão da simetria do mundo em nossa volta, para que sentimento? Se as inquestionáveis equações de Newton refletem nossa lógica superior, para que dar ouvidos às incertezas de Rousseau? Eram muitas as convicções que cirandavam na cabeça do vulto no porão. Elas gritavam também, de tal forma que o constante zumbido de perguntas sem respostas já não ressoava mais em seus ouvidos. Era nessa paz de espírito que ele finalizava sua obra prima.

A noite é uma grande névoa de conflitos e resoluções, amores e desamores. É o lar das mais puras intenções, daquelas que sobrevoam tudo e todos, leves, homogêneas e independentes. A noite é dos amantes, dos amados, e dos que querem amar, mas não é só deles. A escuridão também abriga os compulsivos, os cientistas malucos, os raivosos, os revoltados, e, acima de tudo, os vultos. Vultos como este, no porão, que acabava de ver todas as suas certezas ganharem forma e cor no quadro que pintava, tomadas pela aura misteriosa e maluca da noite.

Formas estas que se resumiam a linhas retas e a ângulos exatos e cores que não passavam do preto e branco. A noite é de fato uma faca de dois gumes, e o quadro, certamente, uma obra de arte.

Todavia, a noite não é eterna, e a luz do dia tem sua hora e seu lugar. Pouco a pouco a escuridão evaporava e o vulto do porão transformava-se. Não era mais um vulto, mas sim um homem. Um homem que adorava acordar com o cheiro do almoço que a mãe preparava todos os dias, enquanto ele, enrolado debaixo das cobertas quentes, esperava pelo aviso de que a comida estava pronta. Chegando à mesa do almoço, ganhava sempre um doce beijo na testa. O carinho materno era tudo de que precisava, tudo que amava e queria. Talvez por isso morasse com a mãe ainda.

20 • the talon

Aquela manhã não fora diferente. Depois de tomar uma deliciosa sopa, acompanhada de assuntos fúteis, o homem beijou a mão da mãe, retribuindo-lhe o carinho, e voltou para o quarto. Sentou-se junto à janela e ficou a examinar a pequena horta no quintal. Verde, alface, laranja, cenoura, azul, céu, vermelho. Era uma joaninha que escalava o vidro da janela, de cor viva e alegre. O homem sorriu, sem saber exatamente por quê. Sentiu uma certeza crescendo no seu peito, mas não sabia exatamente o que era. Passou o resto do dia a fazer trabalhos de casa, a falar com a mãe, e a sentar-se junto às janelas. Assim foi quase todos os dias. Não tinha amigos e não gostava muito dos primos.

Já era noite novamente. E, novamente, era um vulto que se encontrava no porão, suado e estressado, e não um homem. Percebera que sua arte não estava realmente concluída e isso irritava as convicções em sua cabeça, fazendo-as gritar mais alto que nunca. As linhas paralelas e perpendiculares, os ângulos calculados, os tons de preto e branco, todos estavam na medida certa. Porém, faltava ao quadro um detalhe, um toque especial. A agonia blogspot.com da dúvida logo deu lugar ao desespero, que só chegou ao fim horas depois.

A noite parecia interminável, mas o vulto não percebera o passar do tempo, nem mesmo as loucuras que fizera nas últimas horas. Finalmente havia completado sua obraprima. Era um quadro repleto de linhas e formas absolutamente simétricas. Mas não era somente em preto e branco. Nele havia novas formas, todas da mesma cor. Eram pequenos círculos vermelhos, espalhados por todo o quadro. Círculos quase perfeitos, cada qual com sua pequena peculiaridade.

Até lembravam joaninhas. Um pouco de cor não faz mal a ninguém. Um pouco de cor não há de fazer mal. Só um pouco.

Só um pouquinho.

Estava o vulto tão preso nos próprios pensamentos e medos que não escutou os últimos berros desesperados da mãe.

Também esqueceu-se de lavar a navalha, que agora pintava a mesa velha do porão de um vermelho vivo e alegre.

features

Pro tempo engatinhar O avesso do avesso

Maggie Moraes

Faculty Contributor

E

então, se tudo passa em branco eu vou pesar a cor da minha angústia e no olhar saber que o tempo vai ter que esperar”. (“O Tempo”, letra do grupo Móveis Coloniais de Acaju) Vinha dirigindo pela marginal Pinheiros, rumo ao trabalho, sete e trinta da manhã mais paulistana impossível: chuva fina, tráfego idêntico ao rio à esquerda, arrastado, oleoso. A paisagem fez-me lembrar Caetano em Sampa: “E foste um difícil começo / Afasta o que não conheço / E quem vem de outro sonho feliz de cidade / Aprende depressa a chamar-te de realidade / Porque és o avesso do avesso do avesso do avesso”. Tudo cinza, chumbo, metal. Uma fatal agonia me oprimiu os olhos. Pensei em fechá-los para o que me rodeava. Impossível, é claro. Na verdade, nada era claro, era tudo metal, cinza, chumbo. Eh, cidade! Os carros, tanto os podres fuscas ferrugem, como as poderosas vans cintilantes, monstros móveis de insulfilme escuro.

Podres poderes igualados em suas cavernas. A feiúra rugia e rugia alto.

E foi então que o tema desta crônica me invadiu a mente, vindo da traseira imunda de um caminhão, em que uma placa, ainda mais imunda, dizia: “Não dá pra correr e aprender ao mesmo tempo, tem que refletir (sic)”. Essa frase me fez parar em meio à minha própria subordinação ao tempo e por alguns instantes consegui mandar as horas pra outro lugar. Se tudo o que somos está posto à prova a todo o momento, quis testar ali mesmo minha capacidade de não me pôr à prova, por um segundo apenas. Foi quase que uma sensação de liberdade.

Cada um carrega seu sintoma de aprisionado – podemos chamá-lo de vício, os mais diretos chamam de fraqueza mesmo – e, mais difícil do que se sentir livre ou de achar resposta que resulte em liberdade, é traduzir seus significados, pois mesmo a liberdade, em alguns momentos, parece ideia vazia deles.

Mas, quando nos fazem crer que buscar sentidos é desperdício, fica fácil passar a entendermos tudo como absolutamente compreensível: a guerra fica compreensível, a fome tornase aceitável, e até mesmo a morte estúpida de um jovem de apenas 14 anos, atingido no rosto por um sinalizador durante uma partida de futebol, passa a “fazer parte”... O tema retorna à mente. Penso na boca rota daquele escapamento de caminhão, exalando o fumo do diesel mal processado pela bomba injetora: é preciso muita cautela com as palavras. É possível retorcêlas infinitamente, fazê-las dizer o que quisermos. E se a gente não presta atenção, acaba intoxicado pela mentira venenosa. Acreditando nela.

Ocorreu-me, ainda, naquele momento de estranha calma, que, em nossa sociedade, blogspot.com convencionou-se deixar a perfeição para os deuses, mas na falta de deuses resta-nos um complexo demasiado imperfeito.

Não sei se acredito na perfeição, mas sei que parece haver neste mundo um grande medo de tentar ser melhor, acompanhado, infelizmente, pela castração da liberdade de evoluir. Ainda sem respostas, seguimos solitários, com o medo da chance e a esperança da sorte. O que será que nos leva a adotar comportamentos destrutivos? Não. Não estou lhe colocando à prova. Já fomos reprovados.

the talon • 21

features

Surviving a Cultural Mindset Life of women in India

Faria Nasruddin

Guest Contributor

I

magine having to fight for your life on a daily basis, waking up every morning and being terrified to leave your house.

This is the reality for women living in some parts of India, and these women (and a surprisingly large number of their male counterparts) are coming out en masse to protest against this kind of threat.

Violence against women is one of India’s most common crimes. The number of rapes reported in 2011 was 23,582, which is about 22,000 more than in 1970. These are the cases that are reported, as many remain silent due to the fact that there is a cultural stigma in India when concerning rape, and women’s place in society.

Much of India still maintains the mind frame of eras past, where women are confined within certain limits.

Though India is not the only country with this issue, it is one of the countries where it has become a crisis. Crime against women has integrated itself into the culture and some of the population still lives with the idea that women are inferior to men. Not only that, but some men in India believe that women who are modern-thinking or ambitious are to be treated with disrespect and deserve what happens to them because of this independent attitude.

Crime against women aren’t limited to rape: they also include domestic violence and the act of illegally demanding a dowry.

Out of this dowry system emerged “gendercide.”

To begin to understand where the degradation of women starts, you must hear the disturbing story of Sumanjeet, an Indian woman who was due to have a daughter. Her daughter would not be alive if Sumanjeet had given into her relative’s pressures to abort her child, because it was a girl and this girl would become a financial liability. “Why are they killing girls, while they’re still in the womb?” Sumanjeet asked, as other cases of gendercide occur across the country. Infanticide occurs because families across India believe that females are a financially liability due to their dowry.

The act of giving a dowry is still in practice, though it has officially been a crime since 1961. Dowries are still a prevalent concept in India, and domestic violence that occurs there is directly related to unlawfully demanding a dowry by verbal or physical means. The Protection of Women from Domestic

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Violence Act of 2005 should help, but it doesn’t guarantee security and change. A 2012 study by UNICEF shows that more than half of Indian adolescent males think it is acceptable for a man to beat his wife under certain circumstances. A dowry still being acceptable is a powerful example of how this mindset hasn’t just appeared, but that it is cultural, passed down from, prolonging the degradation of women.

New Delhi’s chief minister, Sheila Dixit, addressed the issue of degradation after what people are calling the Delhi Rape Incident, Where a young woman entered a bus and was brutally beaten and raped by six individuals, including the bus driver.

“The girl was returning home at night with her male companion in a city where people believe…you know… you should not be so adventurous.”

Following the incident many women (and men) protested against this kind of brutality and championed laws that should be used to handle these situations. At a protest held January 1, placards stated: “Don’t teach me what to wear, teach men not to rape.” This was a reminder to many editon.cnn.com of why India needs to experience a rapid change in this cultural mindset.

News of the New Delhi rape got a massive international response and unveiled the truth about the mind frame in India. This one horrific event brought at least some change to India, provoking protests from both genders. It shows that the views of the younger generations are drastically different from the previous ones. The progressive nature of these young men and women speaking out illustrates their outrage and is to be applauded. Hopefully, this will force Indian leaders to acknowledge the crisis and enforce changes. These protests showed, both locally and internationally, that the women in India are much more progressive than perceived and are taking the necessary steps to expose these atrocities. This issue isn’t only occurring in India, but the people of India are saying enough: that women should be given the same respect as men. These protests, along with the other steps the country has been taking over the last decade, such as literacy rates going up and maternal mortality rates going down, show that progressive Indians are a force to be reckoned with.

Sources: edition.cnn.com, wikipedia.org

entertainment

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entertainment

Music is Food

A valid proof on the edibility of the songs we listen to Kevin Bengtsson

I

t was not long ago that I was having an enlightening conversation with another member of the Talon staff in which, at some point, the topic of discussion turned to the idea that music is a lot like food. “How so?” they asked. “How is it not?”

I responded.

The evidence in favor of my argument is endless and will be brought to the table in this article. The evidence against it? Well, there is none. Music is food, period.

Let’s start with the basics: how do we describe music? This is where the original argument for this article was conceived. I was trying to give a rough description of a song I was listening to and, being an instrumental track, I had to resort to talking about how it sounded rather than the message it conveyed. My attempt started off along the lines of “…and so the song begins with this delicious synth bass—” before being oh so kindly interrupted by my friend, “HAHA, a delicious bass? What?!” Yes, I thought everyone knew that synthesizers are delicious. As I began to ponder this, I realized that almost every single aspect of music can be described using adjectives usually allocated to foods and foods only.

“That melody is sweet like a tootsie roll,” “what’s that spicy salsa song called?” or even “woah, what a disgusting/nasty bassline.” Maybe I’m just crazy, but all of these seem like apt descriptions of music. They all give you at least an idea of what the song sounds like, don’t they? And they don’t sound out of place either; if I said that baseball was a “sour sport,” that wouldn’t really work, but descriptions like that work for music.

The obvious conclusion, then, is that music must be food.

Not convinced? Let’s take a look at love songs. Love songs are food for the heart. We enjoy them much like we enjoy food and we can sometimes even take them for granted.

Fortunately, love songs are all over the place and we can listen to them whenever we want. At Graded, food is readily available and we can purchase it whenever we want at the snack bar. They come in all shapes and sizes too and guess what? Food comes in all shapes in sizes as well. It is only when we don’t listen to a love song in a really long time that we realize how essential they are to our survival; they are to our hearts what food is to

our metabolism. Food tastes best when we’re dying of hunger.

A romantic tune is the best when we’re dying of lovesickness.

Delving further into this completely valid analogy, a song’s composition is nothing more, nothing less than a musical recipe. Five ounces of guitar are added to two teaspoons of piano; a cup of a groovy drumbeat is then added to the mix and topped off with a sprinkle of a great vocal melody to create a tasty tune—see what I did there?

Let’s cut out all this abstract nonsense and get to real, technical musical terms. Did you know that there’s an entire genre of music named after a delicacy? It’s called Bubblegum Pop, and before you go thinking it’s just some obscure and esoteric outlier in the huge universe we call music, I will warn you that it’s much more present in our lives than you would think. If you have ever heard a song by Carly Rae Jepsen, you have come across this genre. It’s quirky, childCitation is Trebuchet MS 8pt Italic like and colorful pop music that appeals (mostly) to the younger female demographic.

Finally, we get to the last factor that will determine music’s validity as food: edibility. Can music be eaten? Some— most, probably—will argue that in no circumstance can music be eaten, but let’s just take a look at this: music and experiencing music is a form of knowledge and acquiring knowledge. If we can devour knowledge, then we can, by the transitive property, devour music. Ergo, music is food. I rest my case.

The article you have just read is riddled with an abundance of fallacies that would make any TOK teacher within a radius of ten thousand kilometers cringe. I dedicate this one to all of you. That said, I remain convinced that music is nothing but sonic food. I don’t know about the rest you, but I’m going to go back to feasting on the scrumptious buffet that is my iTunes library.

the talon • 25

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sports

The Harbowl Family Feud at the Super Bowl Kevin Wolfson

A

n eternal war has torn through the ranks of the National Football League and reached a new battlefield. The sometimes not-so-friendly rivalry that exists among siblings in families has escalated to the most watched sporting event in the United States. Some might say football is a head-to-head physical sport, but in this year’s Super Bowl, emotions picked up the pads and headed out to the field.

Jim and John Harbaugh are brothers. They are also the head coaches of the two Super Bowl contenders, the San Francisco 49ers and the Baltimore Ravens, respectively. Yeah, awkward. Little brother and big brother battle it out for the second time in their professional football careers. Yet this time, it really counts. They aren’t fighting over toys as they did when they were kids. This time they are fighting over the most coveted trophy in American sports.

It is not a coincidence that two of the National Football League’s best coaches are brothers. It all started with their father, Jack Harbaugh. Mr. Harbaugh is a former National Football League player and coach, and an avid fan of the sport. Both his playing and coaching careers were extremely successful and this inspired his two sons, John and Jim, to make football their life as their father had.

Jim, the youngest of the brothers, has had a quite impressive career. He played college football at the University of Michigan and then continued to play quarterback in the National Football League for 14 years. Athletically, he achieved many great feats: he won the Rose Bowl as a senior in college, and was nominated for the Heisman Trophy that year. He also led the Indianapolis Colts to the AFC Championship game in 1995.

However, one might say that he has had more success with a clipboard instead of a football in his hand. He first started coaching at the University of San Diego, where he led the team to two consecutive Pioneer League championships. He then moved up to coach at Stanford University, where he directed the team to two bowl berths, one of them the Orange Bowl of 2011. He now coaches the formidable San Franciso 49ers, where he’s had two playoff appearances and one Super Bowl

appearance.

John Harbaugh had a surprisingly similar career. He played college football as a defensive back at Miami University and then moved quickly into the coaching role. He served as assistant coach for several universities such as Morehead State, Western Michigan, University of Cincinatti, and Indiana University until he became the special teams’ coach of the Philadelphia Eagles. Since 2008 he’s been the head coach of the Baltimore Ravens, and his success has been stellar. With a head coaching career record of 63-30, the Baltimore Ravens have, under his leadership, finished in the AFC North’s standings either first or second for the past five years. It probably does not need to be said, but John Harbaugh was AFC and Superbowl Champion in 2013 after fantastic regular and post seasons.

Both of the Harbaughs have admirable records with impressive accomplishments. They also have strong teams with unique capabilities of ravaging through the opponents. In mythological terms, the Super Bowl embodied a sphotos-f.ak.fbcdn.net battle between Zeus and Poseidon on America’s biggest stage.

The battle was fought hard. The big brother gained an early lead and maintained it throughout the game. Up to the first half, the clash seemed hopeless for San Francisco.

Unexpectedly, after Beyonce’s exquisite performance, San Francisco scored twice, bringing them very close to Baltimore.

Yet, there was no cigar for Jim Harbaugh.

Ultimately, only one brother could emerge with victory.

John Haurbaugh told Peter King from Sports Illustrated that he was “totally devastated” for his little brother. Yet Jim Harbaugh was not a good loser. A lot of criticism has been aimed towards Jim Harbaugh for complaining about the refereeing after the game. NFL.com says John was “a picture of graciousness,” but Jim was the annoyed little boy.

So, how will they act from now on? Will Jim hold a grudge against John for the rest of his career? Maybe his life? I would love to know how awkward the Harbaugh Thanksgiving Dinner will be this year…

Source: nfl.com

the talon • 35

sports

The Polarizing Legacy of Ray Lewis Champion? Murderer? You call it.

Rafael Rocha

R

ay Lewis had waited a long time for Superbowl XLVII. Too long, almost. At age 37, he no longer had the same acceleration, speed, and stamina of his best days. It was undeniable that his physical condition had taken a toll on him and forced him to set his priorities straight. On October 14 of last year, Lewis tore his triceps playing against the Dallas Cowboys, only to have surgery on it three days later. According to prognostications, his return was set for early January, which would coincide with the wild card round of the playoffs. Ravens fans could breathe again. Ray Lewis was going to be ready when it mattered. It could have stopped at that: Ray Lewis gets injured, Ray Lewis comes back a few months later. Hooray. But that’s not how the story finished. On January 2, Lewis announced he would retire from the game after the season was over, telling his teammates to regard Baltimore’s postseason as “his last ride”.

Lewis’ fierce demeanor on the field had been established during his career, infused by his passion for and knowledge of the game of football. If you ask most NFL players about the history of the league, they won’t really know much about it, and why should they? It’s irrelevant to this day and age, right? Lewis disagrees. He had carefully studied and analyzed the history of the most successful middle linebackers in NFL history. A common denominator among them? “A passion for the game,” he says. “You can study and lift weights and all that other stuff but without that passion you’ll never be a great middle linebacker. You have to be the most relentless, the most competitive guy out there.”

It’s not hard to see that Lewis had taken that message to heart throughout his 17 seasons in the league. That combination of passion and intense preparation and analysis for each game he played in paid its dividends throughout his career. Lewis was not simply a great player, but an ardent student of the sport. His colleagues who were around him regularly emphasized the fact that he was always in the film room, analyzing his opponents’ tendencies, and looking for various ways to get an edge over them. Practice and dedication pay off, and Lewis is a testament to that fact.

That is one side to Lewis’ story. The other is much uglier. On January 31, 2000, Lewis was at a watch party for Super Bowl XXXIV. Suddenly, a fight broke out between Lewis’

36 • the talon

friends and another group of guys. The result was the death of two young men, Jacinth Baker and Richard Lollar. Lewis, along with his companions, were accused of murder. Interestingly enough, the suit Lewis wore to the party was never found, and Baker’s blood was found in Lewis’ car. However, Lewis was eventually acquitted of charges and stayed on probation for 12 months, while being fined $250,000 by the NFL. The point here is not to try to conclude whether Lewis was guilty or not; that was a lengthy process which involves too many details for me to evaluate. What remains, though, is a huge stain in Lewis’ career, one that has made a legion of football fans despise and mock him. Many people also question whether the process to acquit Lewis of charges was properly handled. Despite that rather big blemish on his legacy, Ray Lewis was and is currently involved in many philanthropic organizations.

He founded the Ray Lewis 52 Foundation, which seeks to contribute economic and personal assistance to unprivileged youth, mostly within the region of Baltimore. As a result of his generous off-field actions, Lewis was given the “Act of Kindness” award in 2006.

Judge him as you wish; Ray Lewis has ohio.com had remarkable on-field success contrasted with dubious and perhaps even disgraceful off-field issues. His legacy is ambiguous. Nevertheless, his story is fascinating for the passion, the contradictions, the mystery surrounding the murder incident, and the inspiring speeches he gave to his teammates in the huddle. Professionally speaking, his career could not have ended in a better way for Lewis: He retired as an NFL Champion, the ultimate prize for all of his contributions to the sport. Oh, and did I mention that a mere five days after hoisting the Vince Lombardi Trophy, another Ray Lewis announced he would begin his college career? Yes, you read that right: He too will play for the University of Miami. Teen sensation Ray Lewis III, that is, the son of the better-known Ray Lewis. Here’s to hoping that his career will be just as successful on the field as was his father’s, with a lot less off-field drama as well.

Sources: csnphilly.com, wikipedia.org, cbsnews.com, StampedeBlue.com, espn.com