The reason we keep on fighting BY ELEANOR MARSHALL
eleanor.marshall@wsspaper.com
I
t is too much. It is too much to organize events and organize the clothes in my drawers and organize the jumble of thoughts and tired unthoughts in my brain. It is too much to get up in the morning and try. And it is too little.Why do we do it? We are crazy. We are one tiny dust mite on one single eyelash in the blink of the earth’s eye, not to mention the unfathomable body of the universe. But even Atlas just has to shrug every once in a while. And so what? So what about the enormity of time and space and ourselves and beyond ourselves and our to-do lists and to-don’t lists and to-dream lists? So what about the greatness we haven’t achieved and the goodness we didn’t feel up to because we were sweating the big stuff? So what if we are crazy? Because we are crazy like Alexander Fleming who discovered mold is the world’s best antibiotic. We are crazy like Vincent van Gogh who cut off his own ear and saved it while capturing the mystic of the night
better than the night itself. And we are crazy like my cousin who announced that she likes being late to kindergarten so that she can walk in front of the entire class and they can compliment her dresses. Who doesn’t? I am beaming just to think I am in a category with people like that. So what if I am also in a category with compulsive facebook checkers and tone deaf singers and blurter outers? Because what I really am is something. And think of all the categories that’s in. It can be something special, or something else, or something not nothing. And so we are. And so. And so it is another day and my alarm clock makes wave noises and I almost wish I were on an island, but on second thought I’m glad I am here. And I’m glad that snow was falling this morning for one of the last times until winter because it punctuates the blooms with another kind of bounty and reminds us to notice the seasons. I have an independent study first period and I walk to school and independently study the way cold air makes my whole self expand and the smell of coffee and the clunky gracefulness of the morning traffic and its groggy drivers. Hooray for all of us who are stupid enough and brilliant enough to put up with our lousy excuses for selves make something of today. Hooray for the stately front lawn that makes me feel like running like the wind across it. Hooray for not caring about the slow walker in front of me because she is wearing fabulous purple boots and hooray for wearing a yellow scarf
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that Mrs. Shullaw tells me is diaphanous and makes me feel like an angel. Hooray for locker signs and the writing on the bathroom stall that tells me that I’m worth it. Hooray for bake sales and being late and other small acts of defiance. Hooray for learning and thinking. Hooray for having a place to be and a challenge to meet and people that expect you to be better than you are. Hooray for doing what we are supposed to do. Bell rings. Enough. Exhale. And then, in that irritating subconscious way we have, inhale. Start again. Why do we do it? At the dinner table my dad asks What’s one good thing that happened today? He never asks about the 20 things I forgot or the 10 people that annoyed me or the three times I got so frustrated my head hurt. And even if he doesn’t listen to the answer because he’s playing on his Droid and even if my mom interrupts half way through with her own story, I always think of one thing. Pause, then play. Back to work. Why do we do it? Why do we care about stupid things like grades and texts and being busy? I don’t know. Because we are meant to. Because we are so full of caring that what and else would we do with it and because it is too scary to think about what is left if you take away all the unimportant stuff and because it matters.
This column is stereotypical S
BY ANSEL LANDINI
ansel.landini@wsspaper.com
tereotype. Broken up it’s just “stereo” and “type” like I’m just shopping in an electronics store. And let’s say that I want to buy a stereo, but I don’t know much about brands, so I decide to choose a Sony stereo. However, I realize that my new stereo has high treble and low bass. I conclude that all Sony stereos have high treble and low bass and that no matter how many new stereo types Sony comes out with, they all will have the same problem. Every time I show up I want to try a different brand (or “type”) of stereo, even though newer models of the old stereo brands are coming out. Pretty soon, I’ll run out of “stereo types.”
I refuse to give any brand a second chance because I’ve decided that every stereo that Sony, for example, will ever produce will always have high treble and low bass. That’s what stereotyping is, making an assumption about a group of people based on the actions or appearance of some of that group. How far do we let stereotypes go? And how much do we let these preconceived notions shape how we see people? I’m thinking more than we should. Stereotypes are getting out of control. Remember geometry? “If p then q” does not assert “if q then p.” Every Gothic kid likes black clothes, but not everyone who likes black clothes is Gothic. People use arguments like that every day. And when they’re called out on it they have some shaky excuse like “Well... That’s just what I’ve seen.” We have become unwilling to change our opinions of people once they are set. I’ve had long hair for 15 years of my life. And all kinds of names have been thrown my way. Kids seem to think having long hair is only
for girls. I thought that had been revolutionized in the 60’s. Apparently not. Eventually you get so used to it that it doesn’t bother you so much, but should you have to? Is that really how we should treat our fellow students? It seems that calling them names and generalizing things about them based on the way they look or their favorite activities has become the best way to judge them. Suddenly everyone who wears black is a goth emo cutter who sits in the back of the class writing suicide notes. Maybe that’s a little extreme, but who knows what someone else thinks about you based on their own preconceived beliefs. The next time you see a group of people and your mind races toward stereotypes, go ask them what they’re in to, learn about them. You might find out something completely different than those notions you had originally. As they say, the newer model can be revolutionary.
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