What struck me the most in class this past week was the documentary, Born Into Brothels. While I was aware of such issues in the world, seeing it with my own eyes always makes it real.
To be quite honest, the documentary was extremely sad, but what is even sadder to me is the fact that I have seen things like this before, and they do get my attention and make me want to do something, but I have always allowed their messages to slip to the back of my mind. If I'm letting these issues in the world be forgotten, then I know others are too; probably the majority of people in fact. I'd like to think of myself as a good person; I try to put others before myself when I can, but even I have been too selfish to take the time out of my daily life to give help to those who really need it.
I think part of it is definitely because we, as Americans, are sheltered from most of the world's biggest issues, but unfortunately, that's not the only reason. I believe that as animals on this earth, because that's what we really are, it is in our human nature to be selfish. It is our natural instinct to protect and provide for ourselves instead of worrying about others. There's no shark out in the ocean that chooses to spare a fish because it realizes the fish's mother just died and it's having a bad day. While we are not sharks, we are still animals, and I believe we were all born with similar instincts.
However, we are not just any animal. We have evolved to the point where we can override many of our animal instincts--clearly, or we would all be prancing around naked. We also have the ability to empathize with one another, which I believe is one of the biggest differences between us and other animals. Because of this, it is possible for us to think of how we can help others instead of ourselves for a change of pace, but I think we often default to our natural selfish instincts.
As animals, our lives revolve around eating, sleeping, and reproducing; we must constantly remind ourselves of what we can be, why we are different from other animals, and what we can accomplish to better the lives of others. I'm not saying we should sacrifice everything that we have, but we must be reasonable. We must use our evolved brains and realize that most of what we have we do not really need. We must take the time out of our daily lives to not only empathize, but to put ourselves to use and do something selfless in order to help others.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Metacognition: Scary Story Contest
As some of you may know, GBS's literary magazine, Calliope, was holding a scary story contest for the Halloween issue. Being in the class of the teacher who runs Calliope, I found myself really wrapped up in trying to write something terrifying. Okay... I'll admit, getting my story published and being able to build up my college application may have been a motivating factor.
At first I thought it would be a piece of cake. I thought that I could make up whatever random B.S. I wanted and mold it into the form of a scary story; I was wrong. I started out with a story that I thought had a lot of potential, but then realized I had no clue where I was going with it. Usually that would be no issue; it's normal for me to start writing something with no idea of where I'll take it. In this case however, I realized that I could easily write the beginning of a scary story, but I couldn't manage to produce a satisfying ending.
I wrote the beginnings of at least four stories, deciding after a day that each one was cra... no good. I couldn't seem to get the scary story cliches out of my head. Everything I wrote seemed to fall into the same typical tone and predictable plot. That is, until I reread Edgar Allen Poe's Black Cat. The idea of feeding on others' creativity in order to jump start your own really helped me. In Poe's story, he allows the reader to get inside his head and realize how sick it is. He also expresses the idea of losing control of yourself; to me, it was terrifying.
I then began a new story, the one I would finally stick with. I decided to incorporate my brother's experience with epilepsy. I told him my story idea and then asked him to describe some of the things that went on in his brain when he would have a seizure, so that I could write a story in which the reader could get inside someone's head who has actually lost control.
Don't get me wrong, it wasn't smooth sailing after that. I figured out what I was going to write about and where the story would go, but then it took me days to beat a rough draft out of myself. I got it all down on paper thinking that most of it was terrible, but that there were a few parts that made the thing worth it. I then rewrote it and shared it with my family to get their advice, and then rewrote it again. Finally, I finished it, and it's way better than I thought it would be.
Writing the scary story made me realize I must not underestimate the goals I set out to accomplish, because when I do I end up unbelievably frustrated with myself. I also found that it can be well worth your time to stick with something even if it's taking you way longer than expected. Even after I finished the story I didn't think it was very good. It took until someone read it aloud to me that I actually felt some sense of accomplishment.
At first I thought it would be a piece of cake. I thought that I could make up whatever random B.S. I wanted and mold it into the form of a scary story; I was wrong. I started out with a story that I thought had a lot of potential, but then realized I had no clue where I was going with it. Usually that would be no issue; it's normal for me to start writing something with no idea of where I'll take it. In this case however, I realized that I could easily write the beginning of a scary story, but I couldn't manage to produce a satisfying ending.
I wrote the beginnings of at least four stories, deciding after a day that each one was cra... no good. I couldn't seem to get the scary story cliches out of my head. Everything I wrote seemed to fall into the same typical tone and predictable plot. That is, until I reread Edgar Allen Poe's Black Cat. The idea of feeding on others' creativity in order to jump start your own really helped me. In Poe's story, he allows the reader to get inside his head and realize how sick it is. He also expresses the idea of losing control of yourself; to me, it was terrifying.
I then began a new story, the one I would finally stick with. I decided to incorporate my brother's experience with epilepsy. I told him my story idea and then asked him to describe some of the things that went on in his brain when he would have a seizure, so that I could write a story in which the reader could get inside someone's head who has actually lost control.
Don't get me wrong, it wasn't smooth sailing after that. I figured out what I was going to write about and where the story would go, but then it took me days to beat a rough draft out of myself. I got it all down on paper thinking that most of it was terrible, but that there were a few parts that made the thing worth it. I then rewrote it and shared it with my family to get their advice, and then rewrote it again. Finally, I finished it, and it's way better than I thought it would be.
Writing the scary story made me realize I must not underestimate the goals I set out to accomplish, because when I do I end up unbelievably frustrated with myself. I also found that it can be well worth your time to stick with something even if it's taking you way longer than expected. Even after I finished the story I didn't think it was very good. It took until someone read it aloud to me that I actually felt some sense of accomplishment.
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