Memory

Often I wonder if my life will ever top my first 9 years. Growing up where I’m from, the way I grew up, was the culmination of experience. Sometimes I wonder, in a non-conceited way, if I have more memories than other people. I grew up in a different country and therefore a different school, a different neighborhood, and a different community. I could write eons upon eons about my experiences. It seems like I lived there way longer than 9 years. I can explicitly remember my schools: the preschool/kindergarten and then Lion’s Primary School. I left school at lunchtime and then was home-schooled until late afternoon. What I remember most, though, were the people. Take a couple of back roads off the one that runs by the hospital and there was my neighborhood with its identical houses protected by an army of speed bumps and ditches. Every day after school I played soccer with the kids in the central park. They were friendly kids who spoke English alongside a multitude of other languages. Occasionally we played basketball on the makeshift court in my driveway. I had many pets: a dog, several cats, some chickens and rabbits, and a couple of goats. I wouldn’t have traded the experiences for anything, even though my life may have reached its climax. I feel that this is the story of my life, more than anything I’ve ever done and probably more than anything I’ll ever do.

Reflect on anything in the class so far

Out of all the exciting and great fun we’ve had in this class, nothing has been more enthralling or defining than Marcus’s challenging statement that we are over-thinking stuff. I have read books about Ancient Greek Myths describing battles with Cyclops. I have read books that metaphorically transition a girl from real life to fantasyland through a wardrobe. I have even read a book about a kid who could say good-night to the moon while a cow jumped over it. But nothing, nothing compares to the profoundness of one statement by Marcus, ‘perhaps we are over thinking stuff’. Some will argue that’s the point of school, the point of school is to over study every possible angle. I don’t normally write in this alternate interpretation of writing instructions. I don’t normally write about things that are a non-issue (I hope I don’t come off sounding like I’m complaining - I like the way we think about things in class, it’s great). But there is something to be said for simplistic interpretation. The Great Gatsby, to me, meant something entirely different before we discussed the book. I think a great point to stress in literature is that books can mean more than what a class concludes at the end of the period. They can even mean less. I feel like this is where we are going in our discussions about “I could tell you stories”.

Language Evolution

Does language evolve? Is there a time when the language you speak changes? Explain your position.

Religious views considered, evolution is undeniable. There’s two types of evolution – natural and artificial. We (humans) are an example of natural evolution, iPods (and all their generations) are an example of artificial evolution. Language falls somewhere in between them. Language is a natural human skill and tool, but also something that has been developed by people over centuries and millenniums. I suppose the earliest form of language was emotional, maybe the time the first human looked into the second’s eyes. Regardless of whether verbal communication or artistic communication was the next development in language, it’s easy to follow/imagine the progress from there. Language might be the fastest non-technological form of evolution that exists. In the last 50 years, I can, off the top of my head, list quite a few words that have been invented or changed meanings quite a bit: gay, cool, sweet, swagger, hot, University High School, rap, videogame, internet, sneakers, and on and on… There is never a time when the language we/I speak is not changing.

Entering Music

A reflection upon my life would find those moments that profoundly influenced me occurred amiss the moments of chaos that have sporadically interfered with my life’s course. Searching for moments that profoundly influenced me in the absence of other defining moments is like searching for a needle in a haystack. I found a singular example in my hours of reflection, a simple discovery in 9^th grade study hall. The story begins before that, back in 8^th grade when my Spanish teacher, in his quirky manner played “Dear Mama” for the class. I liked the song, but it stored away only in my memory, as my interest in music was less than existing in my younger years. 9^th grade study halls were free periods of computer time. On the rare occasions I had homework to do it was an afterthought. Upon my boredom I began imitating the other kids in study hall – I decided I would listen to music even though I hadn’t the slightest idea that I even liked it. A reflection upon my brief encounters with music brought me upon two moments – my flirtation with country music in 4^th grade and the song by 2pac that my self-proclaimed “hood” Spanish teacher had played during class. I searched “Dear Mama” in Youtube and was hooked. Somehow in the course of a year my maturity had subconsciously expanded into the capacity of understanding music. I was hooked. After running through all the 2pac songs I could find in the YouTube search query I moved on to Nas, then Eminem, and Lupe Fiasco, and Kanye West, and so on … a continuing cycle to this day. Like Hampl, one rather uneventful moment profoundly influenced me into understanding a form of literary expression.