Last Meeting with James (Part 6)

James and I met for the last time today.  Although we’ve been busy this semester, we’ve somehow came to meet way over the required number of meetings and have enjoyed getting to know each other a lot.  Today we talked about the year as a whole and looked at our experiences since August.  James’s life totally changed in August when he moved here from China.  He thinks that he himself has changed quite a bit since coming to TCU, becoming much more outgoing and open to meeting people.  He thinks that this change is from moving out of China.  When he was in China, he felt that the rules and extensive classwork limited him from having such a great social life.  High school for me was also definitely not as social and fun as college.  Having such different high school experiences than college makes us appreciate our time here even more.

We also talked about our plans for next semester.  James will be a freshman next year, out of the English program, and ready to start on his business and psychology majors.  During our conversation we decided to check out possible classes for him to take next semester.  We pulled up all the requirements and I talked him through what I’ve learned by experiencing my first year of pre-business classes.  We even put together a tentative list of classes for him to sign up for next semester and I recommended several professors that I’ve taken that he could also sign up with.  It seems like James is very excited to get his degree going and will do great in majoring in Accounting and Psychology, topics that he is already knowledgeable and passionate about.

It was sad to say goodbye for the last time.  It’s unbelievable that this semester has gone by so quickly.  James and I agree that that this semester has seemed to go by much quicker than last semester.  While we know that we’ll always see each other around, and we’ll likely chat about classes he can take and which professors he should take, we’ll most likely not meet again as conversation partners.  But we had a blast and I’m thankful for the experience!

Under the Sea

As long as I can remember, I’ve had this odd fascination with Hawaii and the ocean.  Although I’d visited the beach when I was young, I’d never really swam in the ocean, never dove down into the waves like I’d dreamed of doing since seeing Lilo at the beginning of Lilo and Stitch diving down to deliver Pudge the fish a sandwich.  About five years ago I finally got my chance for the first time to really swim in the ocean.

            When I was in middle school, my family and I went on an unbelievable vacation to Hawaii that I will never forget.  It was a great trip for numerous reasons: the breathtaking scenery, the thrilling “Road to Hana,” navigating the cliffs of Maui from our Jeep, the unusual luau food, and the abundance of humpback whales that jumped from the water everywhere we looked across the Pacific.  But this trip is forever etched in my memories because it was the first time I ever snorkeled, the most fun to this day that I have ever had in the water.

            At first I was terrified to jump into the open water, having seen Shark Week one too many times.  But thankfully that first day of snorkeling in Hawaii was incredible, making me forget all of my initial fears.  We went to Molokini Crater and it was perfect.  After a whole day under water snorkeling became my favorite activity; we’d dove down with hundreds of colorful fish, a friendly (but still pretty creepy to see) five-foot reef shark, and an abundance of giant sea turtles that looked like they belonged in Finding Nemo when we visited Maui’s so-called Turtle Town.  Though I’d never been much of a swimmer or water-lover, I immediately feel at home in the ocean.  To this day snorkeling is my favorite thing to do on a vacation; I’ve snorkeled every chance I’ve gotten since that trip.  I’m so thankful for that first trip that pushed me out of my comfort zone and helped me find an activity that I love so much.

Growing Up in the 60s

Most children grow up with dreams, visions in their minds about how their lives will turn out and what they will accomplish.  Few of these visions, it seems, turn into reality.  For instance, during my childhood, I went through phases where I was sure that I would grow up to be an inventor, a writer, and a nutritionist. And now I’m studying business.  My childhood ambitions seem to have not been very predictive of my future.  While reading articles from a 1963 copy of Life magazine, I found an article about a teenager growing up in the 60s who became increasingly unsure of what her future would hold.

            Cathy had dreamed from age six that she would one day become a nun as a way to serve God.  She (against all odds) held on to this ambition until age nineteen and then left her family and lifestyle behind to join the covenant.  The article describes her journey and transition from a typical nineteen-year-old to the covenant and documents her thoughts along the way.  One line jumped out to me in particular; as Cathy first entered the covenant, wearing the customary nun attire that she had envisioned herself wearing since grade school, she asked, “Is it really me?” She was excited and eager to work for the qualities she wanted: selflessness, certainty, and strength, but still unsure of her identity, as many people are at such a young age.  It’s hard to imagine knowing exactly what you want to do at my age, nineteen, let alone dedicating yourself to that role and committing to it.  In Cathy’s case, she decided that the covenant wasn’t for her, and she left soon after joining to go to college.

            This article to me shows a lot of similarity in growing up in the 1960s with today.  Cathy’s parent’s encouraged her, similarly as many parents today would, to follow her dreams.  Cathy’s family was similarly upset when they dropped her off at the covenant, just as mine were after leaving me at TCU, showing that, at least in Cathy’s case, the family dynamics seem to be largely the same as today’s family relations.  The major difference I noticed was the article’s depiction of becoming a nun.  The topic seems largely unnoticed in today’s society; I’ve never heard or read about the process of joining a covenant.  This article gave a very sincere and overt explanation of the spiritual journey of profession, describing the spiritual goals, sacrifices, and role of God in the process.  I don’t see any major article today even mentioning topics such as this, and if they do, they seem to take a role that attempts to avoid endorsing any particular belief.  It’s interesting to compare how religion is portrayed in entertainment in the 60s and today.  From what I’ve seen, there seems to have been a general secularization of what our society writes about.  Religion has been slowly fading from public society since the 60s.  This is supported by other articles that I saw in the 60s Time that discussed the issue of prayer in public schools, which was actually outlawed in the early 1960s.  It’s interesting to see how society’s values and concerns have changed so much since the 60s yet family life seems to have remained quite constant.

The House on Mango Street

“There is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbor?” James 4:12

My first impression while reading The House On Mango Street was the engaging character development.  Cisneros described characters in totally unique ways, the extensive imagery making characters feel real and concrete yet somehow still disconnected from us.  I think this disconnect stems from my lack of experience with reading from Esperanza’s perspective, a perspective of relentless discrimination.  I enjoyed reading from this fresh perspective, and I think she told this story this way purposefully.  By portraying Esperanza’s seemingly innocent observations of the characters, Cisneros seems to be questioning our societal predispositions to judge people.  She describes her unusual neighbors in ways that would cause many of us to judge them, depicting people her community arguing, abusing, and trapped in poverty.  But Esperanza describes them differently than most would; Esperanza, at least in the beginning of the novel, is hopefully open-minded about nearly everyone she encounters.  Perhaps this is just naiveté on her part but it seems to me that her relative impartiality could have a deeper and applicable message to readers against judging people for being different from us.

I liked the message I interpreted but didn’t really enjoy the set up of the book.  As I sunk into Esperanza’s story, or collection of stories, I found that my quick pauses between each story grew increasingly from mental naps to daydreams and thoughts about the rest of the day.   I let this happen, and broke the book into fragments, reading a few chapters here and there throughout the day.  Maybe this is why I thought the book seemed to lack the strong plot that I typically look for in a novel.   I left the book wanting more of a story and less chapter-to-chapter separation.

There was once a time

I’ll never know her name or her story, her life’s tale, beyond this mental snapshot.  I’ll never know her, yet I’ll never forget her image: that flimsy cardboard sign, faded from the sun, its scribbled words, smeared from the rain, and her wrinkled hands that held that sign for the world to see, beaten and broken.  The sign was a plea for help, a humiliating last resort, written from a place where pride breaks and insides unceasingly grumble for nourishment, persistently reminding of failure and pain.  “HUNGRY,” the sign cried out to me.

            I was on vacation at the time, a cross-country road trip with my grandparents, and the last thing that I expected was encountering this homeless women, bringing me to see beyond myself, to look into the weary eyes of a total stranger as if I knew them personally.  But those eyes brought a profound change to my personality, my attitude.  My life up until then had been relatively self-serving, not even taking the care to notice others’ needs.  The homeless, famished woman brought me to change my focus from myself to those around me.  This relatively simple lesson has captured a new notion that has been more meaningful than thought possible. 

            I have learned from this simple scene a multitude of lessons that changed my point of view: I endeavor to impact the people in my life, helping them to become more aware outside of themselves. I strive make sure everyone is included.  I have learned to not take what I’ve been given for granted. 

            Everywhere I go, I remember the mental image of the woman.  But I also cherish another picture, a photograph of some friends and me that testifies to this new reasoning.  As part of a life-changing mission trip, we are standing in a small, pink room, covered in fresh paint, next to a small, beaming girl, whose room was finally fully restored.  We are standing in a city devastated by two major hurricanes, its people knocked down, and we are helping them stand.  It is these interactions and experiences that have truly captured and shaped my actions, through awareness of the suffering.