Overall, I thought this class was quite difficult. When I first read what this class was going to be about, I thought we were just going to be writing personal essays trying to discover who we are. In a way that is what we did, but in a more critically thinking way. Instead of just discovering who I am, I tried to discover who I am as a writer. I liked how we read excerpts from different books that provided examples of the essays we had to write. It was hard for me to fully understand how to write rhetorically throughout this course, but I think by the end of it, I understand it more. I think from my very first paper, to our last, my writing definitely improved. The last paper was a very difficult topic, but because I have so many emotions on the topic it was simple to write. I tried to make sure the exigence and audience was clear, something I never really thought of before this course. The open letter, memoir, and self-ethnography project helped me to look at writing a paper in a different perspective. Not all papers have to be just introduction, body, and conclusion, but it can be written in different forms, prove different points, and be written in different voices. I realized, I do not just have one voice, but multiple ones depending on what I am writing about. I am not sure if I improved a lot in my writing in this course, but it has definitely brought a different perspective to writing for me which I think is just as good as improved writing.
Author Archives: maimada
Self-Ethnography
I’m not sure when it started, maybe around November? It wasn’t a particular day, but a small feeling that continued to grow as time went on. At first I ignored it. It felt as if something was always over me, a cloud of sadness blocking me from feeling completely happy. I thought it was just due to stress from school, but I realized as months went on, this was not normal. I tried explaining it to my boyfriend, Quinn, at the time because he could tell something was bothering me. I didn’t even know how to describe it. How do you describe something like this to someone? I just started going out with my boyfriend since the end of summer going to our senior year, but he has been my best friend since ninth grade. He was the guy best friend to my best friend, Thomas, my friend who committed suicide summer to our junior year. We helped each other get through what seemed like the most difficult times of our life that year. Little did I know, it could get a lot worse. Through my junior year, I mourned my best friend, I was of course sad, but at least I still felt genuinely happy at times.
About five percent of all teenagers go through major depression before adulthood. Major depressive disorder (MDD) is a mental disorder characterized by a pervasive and persistent low mood which is accompanied by low self-esteem and by a loss of interest or pleasure in normally enjoyable activities for more than a few months. Who knew at the age of seventeen I would go through this myself. Who knew at the age of seventeen I would feel so depressed and worthless that I thought of ways to kill myself. This is the journey of my life during my senior year of high school.
Everyday I tried to explain to him how I felt, how I felt like something was missing but I didn’t know what. I felt completely lost. I didn’t know what to do to help make myself feel better. I tried distracting myself with hanging out with Quinn and my other friends, by trying to do things I used to really enjoy but none of them helped. It just lead to more problems and frustrations. I would end up sitting in my room, listening to sad music, crying for hours, not knowing what to do with myself. And this was only the beginning.
I would fight with Quinn almost every day because we were both so frustrated. He didn’t know what to do to help me and I would just get angry because I felt like he could be doing so much more for me. I just didn’t know what either. I expected him to know how to fix me. I expected too much out of him, but of course I didn’t realize it at the time. He told me I should go to therapy but I told him I tried it before and it didn’t do anything so why would it help now. That was one of the most frustrating parts. If a therapist couldn’t help me, what was I supposed to do? He kept insisting I at least try one more time, so I did. Of course the first few sessions didn’t do anything to help me, just make me more frustrated with myself, but my parents told me it would take a lot of time to see if it would actually work. Just from a my first session, my therapist knew I had MDD. Signs therapists look for in order to diagnose a patient with depression are to see if they have difficulty concentrating, making important decisions, have decreased energy, feelings of worthlessness, insomnia, loss of enjoyment in activities they used enjoy, irritability, empty thoughts. A couple of months had gone by and he told me he couldn’t handle it anymore. He couldn’t deal with a girlfriend that was so emotional and moody all the time. This completely broke me. I felt abandoned and even more lost than I did before. He told me he would still be there for me as a friend to help me get through whatever was happening to me, but I still felt extremely hurt. Going through heartbreak was sad enough, but going through it while feeling completely depressed was another thing.
The next few weeks were a blur. I was so heartbroken, so depressed, so angry all the time I couldn’t focus on anything. Through all these times I could not stop thinking about Thomas and how he must have felt before he killed himself. How I wish he was still here so I could talk about all my feelings with him. I ended up skipping a lot of school and missing a lot of classes because I just did not have any motive to go. I took all my anger and frustrations out on Quinn and my parents even though they didn’t do anything to deserve it at all. At night, I would end up crying so loud my parents would come into my room to try to comfort me, but I would end up lashing out at them. Yelling at them “You don’t know anything! Get out of my room now!” They would try to fight me, but end up giving up and giving me the most hurt reactions while walking out my door. This would make me cry even more, because I loved my parents so much and I hated seeing them look so distraught and worried for me. I don’t even know why I would lash out on them, I didn’t know what else to say to make them leave. I learned to cry quietly because I didn’t want them to see me so hurt all the time. I never really thought of how they felt through all of this, but helping a depressed person can cause them to feel helplessness, frustration, anger, fear, guilt, and sadness as well.
Going through all this pain and sadness for months took a real toll on me. I don’t know what caused it, but some nights would I would get so sad I would think in my mind of ways to kill myself. I would google “how to kill myself without causing pain” or “how many pills does it take to kill myself” but all the sites ended up with comments saying “you’ll regret it, please don’t do it.” Some people on a blog sites say, “I don’t want to add to the list of people objecting, but these people are right in many ways. You sound depressed and it wont last forever. But I understand it isn’t easy, so I’ll say this and leave it at that. Avoid overdosing on paracetamol (tylenol). It is a truly horrific way to die. If you overdose on paracetamol you will die very slowly, usually taking about a week to kill you. That last week of your life will be spent in absolute agony as your liver stops working, you become very confused and you bleed profusely“ or “we could say go ahead one less to worry about, but given the choice could you really go ahead enough to end your life. Think of your family how would you affect them, all you need now is someone to share all your problems, so you can relieve some of the stressful things that is building up in your life, for you to be thinking this way in the first place. I am sure you can find some help to aid your troubles.” Those comments had no effect on me. The only person I could really talk to about this was Quinn. Of course he ended up telling my parents how I felt and they got extra worried. They made me leave my door open at all times and they would force me to go in the sun every day because apparently vitamin D makes you happier. My mom would make me sandwiches that had turkey and eggs in them because those foods contain serotonin which is a hormone that makes you happy also. I ended up losing contact with most of my best friends because I just didn’t know what to tell them. I never felt up to hanging out or going out to do anything. Because I knew if I went out, I would have to pretend to enjoy their company. I would have to pretend to be happy and smile at their jokes. Thats one of the reasons why I hated going to school. I hated hearing other people have “bad days” like failing a test or having drama with their friend group. I knew people thought I was crazy or really obsessed with Quinn since he was the only one I talked to. People would see me randomly crying at school and getting taken to my counselor or randomly yelling at Quinn because I was so frustrated and didn’t know what to do. People looked at me differently but I ignored it because they didn’t know what was going on in my life. I would get so frustrated because no one knew how I felt, no one understood how to help me. I kept thinking about Thomas and all the things I could have done to help him now that I understood how he felt. If he told me he was this sad, I would have went to his house and never left his side. I would have told his parents to get him the help he needed. I would have gotten all of his friends together so we could help him as a family. I would have done anything and everything for him if I only understood how he felt at the time. I guess that’s why I would get mad at Quinn all the time, because I just wished he would do those things for me. I never had the patience to realize, he doesn’t know what it feels to be depressed, so how would he know what to do? Instead I would just lash out on him. He once asked me, “what do you even want from me?” and I told him everything I would have done for Thomas, I wanted someone to do for me. But his response was not what I wanted. He told me “yeah, well I don’t know how it feels to be like you or Thomas so I don’t feel the need to be with you all the time, I think you should tell your friends how you feel and not have me do everything for you.” I tried to explain to him it’s hard for me to talk about this subject with anyone because I don’t want them to help me just because they pity me, but of course he didn’t understand that either.
It got to the point where I stopped crying. I stopped getting mad. I accepted the fact that I was depressed and that I wanted to die. I realized it would be easier for my family and for Quinn because they wouldn’t have to deal with my craziness anymore. I was sitting in my room one night, sitting on my bed, with a knife in hand. I held it to my veins and felt the cold metal against my skin. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, taking in what I was really about to go through with. The scary part was, I was calm about it. I wasn’t even crying even though I knew how much pain this was going to cause me. But at that moment, I heard my phone ringing, so I put down the knife and went to see who it was. It was Quinn. I answered the phone and immediately tears started streaming down my face. I told him what had just happened and because it was a school night, he video chatted me to make sure I was okay. That wasn’t the only time I was close to committing suicide, but every time there was someone there to stop me. Whether it be my family, Quinn, or just my thoughts.
After all of this, it was summer. I thought because I didn’t have school anymore things were going to get easier. But it basically stayed the same. Through all this, I was still seeing my therapist and of course she wasn’t really helping. I was really lost at this point, not knowing what to do with myself, not knowing how to make myself feel better. I wanted to feel better. I wanted to feel this blanket of sadness lift off of me. I just wanted to be a normal, happy, girl again. Quinn suggested that I go on medication, but my parents were really against it. They knew if I missed one day of taking my pills it might lead my depression to get even worse. But I told them well it’s not getting any better now so really there is no harm in trying it. I had to start seeing a psychiatrist. **(Interview with dr) He put me on Prozac and a nighttime pill to help me sleep and have more energy the next day. I guess over the next month it helped me to feel better. Prozac is an “antidepressant medication that is used to treat a variety of conditions, including depression and other mental/mood disorders. This medications can help prevent suicidal thoughts or attempts and provide other important benefits. However, studies have shown that a small number of people (especially people younger than 25) who take antidepressants for any condition may experience worsening depression, other mental/mood symptoms, or suicidal thoughts/attempts.” Taking this medication was meant to improve my mood, sleep, and energy level and was meant to help restore my interest in daily living. It should decrease my fear, anxiety, unwanted thoughts, and the number of panic attacks. The Prozac caused me to lose my appetite so I lost weight which made me slightly happier. I have to take one tablet at a dosage of 40 milligrams every morning before I eat breakfast. If I miss one day though, it may lead to increased feelings of suicide and depression. However, since I started taking it, I had more energy and I actually started going out with my friends again. It took a lot of courage, but I ended up telling three of my girl best friends what was going on with me the past year, and knowing they knew the truth made me feel a lot better. I had more people to turn to and Quinn was happy because I didn’t fully rely on him anymore. I stopped crying every night and started hanging out with my parents more. It was a nice feeling to know people actually care about you. Even to this day I still have my bad days. Days where I feel completely worthless and depressed, but I know who to talk to. I know people will be there to comfort me, to make me feel better, to make me feel like I am worth something in this world. It was a really rocky journey, but it helped me grow. It helped me become more understanding of others and life itself. I just wish Thomas had the same opportunity as me.
Bibliography
Aaron , Beck. “Mental Disorders.” Major depressive disorder. Advameg, n.d. Web. 6 Dec. 2013. <http://www.minddisorders.com/Kau-Nu/Major-depressive-disorder.html#b>.
Goldberg, Joseph. “Signs of Clinical Depression: Symptoms to Watch For.” WebMD. WebMD, 24 July 2012. Web. 4 Dec. 2013. <http://www.webmd.com/depression/guide/detecting-depression>.
L, Archaeologia , and Stu S. “How many pills should I take to overdose?.” Yahoo! Answers. Yahoo!, 1 Dec. 2009. Web. 6 Dec. 2013. <http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20091217173609AAp3jvo>.
“Prozac (Fluoxetine Hcl) Drug Information: Description, User Reviews, Drug Side Effects, Interactions – Prescribing Information at RxList.” RxList. N.p., 30 Jan. 2012. Web. 4 Dec. 2013. <http://www.rxlist.com/prozac-drug.htm>.
Smith, Melinda. “Helping a Depressed Person.” Helpguide . N.p., n.d. Web. 6 Dec. 2013. <http://www.helpguide.org/mental/living_depressed_person.htm>.
Memoir to Movie
I thought the movie was really interesting and well done. I think the main difference between the movie and the novel was that the movie mainly focused on the relationship between the young girl and the China man compared to all of her relationships. I kind’ve wished they put a little more focus on the relationship she had with her family, especially her mother. I think they also should have expanded on the relationship between her and Helene because I think that was a growing stage for her, but in the movie you cannot really tell if anything is happening between them, though you can tell they have a very close relationship. I think the audience did have to change because they had to appeal to a new group in order for it to sell as a movie. That’s why they focused more on the love relationship between the China man and the young girl, because everyone loves to see a romantic love story, not a movie about family problems. I think it’s hard to create an accurate memoir in a movie form, unless the life of the person is really interesting. It is hard to get all the emotion and detail into a movie that people bring from writing in journals and describing certain situations. That is why I really enjoyed how their was narration over the actual movie because you could understand how she was thinking instead of just guessing from her facials and her movements. I think that is one of the hardest parts of capturing a memoir on screen.
For the Love of Dance
I knew that I wanted to be a dance ever since I was three years old. As soon as I started school at ‘Iolani I wanted to try out for the dance team as soon as I could. I tried out my Kindergarten year and made the team. I have been dancing ever since. As the years went by, I grew as a dancer improving my technique and mastering other dance styles like ballet, jazz, contemporary, and hip-hop. Everyone in my grade had their own identity and mine was a dancer and I was proud of it. I loved the rush I would get performing in front of a huge audience and feeding off the energy of my teammates. The dance team is actually where I met a lot of my best friends to this day. Since our school was really academically challenging, we would only have practices a few times week only for a couple hours because we always had a ton of homework along with tests, quizzes, papers, and presentations. Because we had such little practices, we could not be like most dance companies who live and breath dance twenty-four/seven. But for the little amount that we did practice, I thought our team was actually pretty good. Everyone got along really well so the dynamic with the group always worked and there was never any drama. We were like a huge family and always took care of each other.
When I was in sixth grade, it was the first time I traveled with the team to a competition in California at Knotts Berry Farm. I was really nervous because I expected dancers from California to be crazy good with excellent technique and we were just these small time dancers from Hawaii. It was in a small auditorium and as the competition started I realized the dancers did not seem that amazing. We actually ended up winning a lot of prizes and first place overall in the competition. We were all so shocked, when they announced who won, we all looked at each other really baffled, thinking “Did we just win? What is happening…” The first mainland experience was so entertaining and we had so many bonding experiences I could not wait till we went on our next trip!
However, after we came back from our trip, our coach decided we should be more challenged and decided the next time we travel it would be to a big time competition in Los Angeles. For the next couple years we increased practice time and did more work on our technique instead of just learning choreography for fun.
It was then my freshman year and our decided that we would go to L.A. to compete again. Instead of going to the small competition at Knotts Berry Farm, we were going to try go to the American National Dance Competition right across from Disneyland. For this competition there were two sections, one you were automatically in and the other you had to audition for. My coach thought we should just send in an audition tape just to see which one we would get in to. Turns out, we got into the harder competition so we were all really excited and wanted to work really hard so we would not embarrass ourselves. We normally travel during spring break, so right after winter break we started having practices at 6:00 a.m. before school started. Practices started to get more intense and tiring, instead of fun, but we all thought it would be worth the effort.
It was finally spring break and our time to travel! Everyone on the team was so excited to finally see what an actual national dance competition would look like. The morning of the competition, we all straightened our hair so it would the same and got ready together so our makeup would look similar. We wanted to get to the competition a couple hours early because we all wanted to watch the other dancers as well. We walked from our hotel through the parking lot, across the street where the arena was. We walked in and we saw a stage that looked like the floor of a basketball court with two stands around it. The second half of the arena was divided into sections and filled with all the dancers, stretching, practicing, and touching up their hair and makeup. Since we were not performing any time soon, we sat on the stands and started watching the different dances. We watched the first one and we all sat there in silence with our eyes wide open just in awe. These dancers were amazing. Their movements were so fluid, their leg extensions were so perfect and their turns were spot on. We were starting to get really nervous. One of my teammates actually threw up because she was so nervous. However, after watching more dances, we realized not all the teams were as perfect as the first one we saw. We thought as long as we put our hearts into it and stuck to what we practiced, we would place.
Around a half an hour before it was our time to perform, we went to the back of the arena and started stretching and warming up. My heart was beating so fast and my hands were shaking, but my best friend came up to me and gave me a huge hug and told me don’t be nervous, just give it your all. Before every performance, we usually make a half a heart with one hand and put our hands together to make one heart for good luck. I’m not sure what it is, but that always calms me down. When we finally got on stage and I heard our music start, my adrenaline was pumping. I put every ounce of energy I had from the bottom of my toes to the tips of my fingers and put everything I felt into my dance moves. After the dance was done, we jazz walked off and all screamed together and hugged each other because we thought we did really well. We still had to perform our other two dances, but we were glad at least one went well.
After we performed all our dances, we were all really proud of the work we did and how our performances turned out. It was a few hours till the results were going to be announced so we were all very nervous and shaky. The time finally came, and they asked for all the dancers to go onto the dance floor while they announced the winners of each category. The categories we were apart of were hip-hop, contemporary, and jazz. When they started to announce who placed for hip-hop we knew we probably would not place since we really are not the best at hip-hop, those dances are usually just for fun. As we assumed, we did not place, but that did not get our hopes down yet. Contemporary was next and we thought we did pretty well. They started from announcing who was eighth and we all held hands in a circle awaiting the teams who won. They announced who placed eighth and it wasn’t our team, but we were all saying to ourselves “no, no we want first, second, or third, not eighth!” However, they announced all the winners, and we were not one of them. Our hopes slowly started to go down. Finally it was jazz and we thought this was our best dance since we learned it first and perfected it for so long. At this point, we would have been happy for eighth, but of course, we did not place in that category either.
After the results were over, we all sat there in silence. We did not expect this to happen. We knew the dancers were going to be better, but coming from a competition where we won everything it was hard to believe we did not win anything at all at this one. I could not believe it was actually over. All the hard work, all the hours, all the times where I just wanted to give up was all for nothing. I actually started to cry because I thought we could have done better to actually place. It was a real humbling experience for us. It made us realize these things do not come easy. Just a couple years of hard work of dancing won’t get us to be professional dancers. However, my coach told us after, that we did really good for the amount of hours we spend dancing. These dancers dance all day instead of going to school, so they are expected to be this amazing. This competition brought us all closer together as a team, but it also made us realize if we actually want to be dancers, or just want to dance for fun. When we got back to the hotel, our coach wanted to have a talk with us. She asked us if next year, we wanted to increase our practice hours so we could improve and come back in a few years to this same competition and hopefully place. I realized, I wish I could be that good at dance, but I just did not really have the energy and enough passion in order to put the time into that. I love dancing, but making it into a competition kind of takes the fun away. The next year, I quit the dance team because it just was not the same anymore. I still took dance classes and danced in school, but nothing really serious. Dance is my way to express myself, but making it as a job, took the love away. It made me realize what I really wanted. I don’t regret taking dance since I was three, but this experience opened me up to new options and new activities I could do with my time instead.
A Reaction to The Lover
When I first started reading this novel, I was shocked by the explicit language it used. I was not expecting it be a graphic novel, but beneath that was a deeper message. It was a tad confusing because it was hard to tell what was going on when the author was talking about the past or something else. It jumped around a little and skipped from first person to third person and that was the most confusing thing. But it was really interesting to not only read about the relationship she held with the rich Chinese man, but also with her family. I thought she first became so intrigued by the Chinese man because he paid so much attention to her, unlike her family. She might have liked the attention and enjoyed what he gave her, and from that began to fall in love with him. It’s also interesting to see how her emotion and feelings from the past affect how she tells the story. It’s a little hard to tell how the situations really went. I guess what mainly confuses me is why he went after her specifically and why she also wanted to talk to him. Because if I saw someone who was much older than me approach me, I would think he would be really creepy, but I guess things were a lot different back then. I have never really had this type of “coming of age” experience but I wish I could have this strong attraction with someone. But even though it was a little confusing, it was still a very intriguing novel.
Memory Box
I had a hard time gathering items that had something in common so I basically just got items together that meant a lot to me and I could share a story about them. A lot of these items have to do with “first timers,” but not all.
Alice In Wonderland DVD: This was my very first Disney movie that I watched and also my favorite. Throughout my entire childhood, I have always loved Alice In Wonderland things. I remember the first Alice movie I watched, was not even the Disney one, it was the one with real actors and I could watch it over and over again. When I watched it when I was older it was definitely weirder than I had remembered, but never the less, I still loved it. I loved the parts with the mini foods, mushrooms, and exotic looking drinks. Everything about it is so magically creative and puts you in this whole other world and from there was the base of my childhood and even life now.
Waikiki Beach Sticker: I got this sticker for free after I bought a certain amount of money at the store Brandy Melville. It isn’t this particular sticker that brings back a specific memory, but its the fact that it is a picture of the beach that can bring many stories to mind. Those memories can range from going to the beach as a little kid with my family, bringing all my plastic toys to build sand castles, to trying to make the most of my last few months at home and going to the North Shore almost every week because the water was so clear and beautiful. The beach is my serenity and brings me peace whenever I need it and that’s why having this photo is so important to me.
Japan Train Ticket: I recently went to Japan this past winter break because my brother was studying abroad there the semester before so we went to go visit him. Apparently we are not supposed to keep the ticket stubs because we have to put it in the machine when we exit the train, but that really did not make sense to me because we already finished our train ride and they punch a hole through the ticket so it’s not like we can reuse it! And since I was a child, I had always loved to collect mini papers, brochures, or items for some odd reason, to help me remember the trip. I thought these little train tickets were perfect because it also showed our destination, so sometimes when the guards weren’t looking I would run out of the train and follow someone else behind so I didn’t have to use my own ticket to get out. So I have quite a few of these but not as many as I would have wished because my parents made me stop…
Card: This was the first letter my parents gave me before they left me for college. This card can bring back so many memories for me because this college experience has been such a huge change in my life. They gave me a card that says “do at least one thing every day that scares you.” This card brings back recent memories and really old ones of what my parents used to do for me when I was at home and the things I miss about them while I am here.
The song Red Hands: I love this song because it reminds me a lot of my brother. He made my slideshow for my graduation party and used this song as background music. I know there are a lot of different interpretations about this song, but for me it means that I have made mistakes in my life, but my brother has been there for me through them all and looks past my flaws and loves me for who I am. It just kind of reminds me of how much I have grown as a person since I was a child and how much he has helped me himself.
Online Personas
When I first read the assignment for this blog post, I thought it was going to be fairly simple. However, the more I thought about my “online self” the more confused I would get. Do I really try to change myself online to seem like a different person? On websites like Tumblr and Pintrest I simply like and repost photos that I think are cool and reflect my personality. I post pictures of Victoria Secret models, Disney characters, fashion, exotic beaches, and of course, food. From those pictures, I think they reflect my actual self, the person I hope to come off as. Those are simply things I enjoy to look at and therefore I want my blog to reflect that.
However, writing blogs are a much different thing. Online writing compared to speaking in person can be really deceiving. You can alter your diction, your style, basically change your entire personality if you really wanted to. I have tried to look at online comments on sites like YouTube and Facebook to see how other people write. These are the different styles I have seen: the person who thinks using symbols instead of letters is cool, “H3y, Wh@tsup?” I am just over all really confused when I see people writing like that because I feel like it requires more effort to type that and gives the person receiving this message a headache.
Then their are the people who think not typing the entire word or changing the spelling will make typing easier, “omg lyke, hav u seen dat gurl yet?” I can see how people like to shorten “oh my god” to “omg” because that actually saves some time, but what do you get by spelling “like” as “lyke” and “girl” like “gurl.” It really just makes you look dumb.
Therefore, when I write, I try to avoid all of these things because I do not want to come off as this person. In my blogs/comments/posts I try to write with correct spelling and just like I am talking to my friend in real life. In fact, my friends always say the way I text sounds exactly like how I would respond in person. I think people online can really pretend to be someone their not, thats why theirs the show “Catfish” but I try to be as real online as I am in person.
Open Letter Project
Dr. Iwashita,
You are a hypocrite. You claim or pretend to have certain beliefs about what is right but you carry out actions that disagrees with those beliefs. I went to Iolani since kindergarten till my senior year and I have witnessed you make multiple changes that upset many people. I know our school motto at Iolani is “one team” but it really is impossible to make everything we do, everything we are apart of, capture this “one team” spirit. Going by this motto never really affected me until you decided to change some of our most well known traditions.
As you know, going to Iolani since kindergarten makes me a “daughter” of Iolani and because of that we have certain benefits and traditions that are only for us. Some of the traditions we have/used to have are sitting in a special area for our baccalaureate, a brunch, dinner, special writings/videos in our time capsule, and the burning of the I. I’m not sure how long you have been the headmaster of Iolani, but you must have seen how important each and every one of these events were for the sons and daughters. Surviving through thirteen years at Iolani is really a struggle, and through all of our ups and downs, the sons and daughters have become a family. Looking forward to all of the traditions we have together for our senior year, makes it much more rewarding. As second graders, third graders, fourth graders, and so on, we have witnessed these traditions with our older siblings and heard about it from the upper class men. Why would you take this away from us?
I understand our motto is “one team,” but why would you only change the one tradition Iolani has held for over fifty years from us? The burning of the I is such a special tradition. Because other people are able to go watch this event, I have seen it almost every year. Even when I was not part of it, it was such a touching experience to see. The sons and daughters gather in a circle and all hold hands and a random few people get to actually light this huge “I,” which is wrapped in t-shirts, on fire. I can’t even describe the multitude of emotions I felt when I was watching my brothers burning of the I. From that, they connected and bonded in new ways. Have you not witnessed one? I know our motto is “one team” and this particular event is only for the sons and daughters of Iolani so it is not quite “one team” of our school to do it, but it has been a tradition for so long, why would you only decide to cancel it now? We survived thirteen years of hard labor of homework, tests, quizzes and presentations, we deserve to get something.
It’s not just this, but it’s not like everything we do at our school is “one team” related. The sports team cuts people, they don’t allow other genders to be on the same team, and a lot of the times we do not support other grades in all school activities. If every event, activity, sport, and club we had was open to everyone and supported everyone, it would be a different story. However, it is not like that, and you only chose to change the one tradition all the sons and daughters look forward to every year. It is a nice gesture to include everyone in the ceremony, but it really makes it less special for the actual sons and daughters. The entire two hundred and fifty seniors all in a circle, surrounding the burning I just is not the same as sixty people in a circle all holding hands. Our entire grade does not have the same connection the sons and daughters share. It really bothers me because even the non sons and daughters really do not care that they are not apart of the burning of the I. They understand that we have been here longer and we’ve known this tradition our entire school life and we have been looking forward to it ever since we were little. It really affected each and every one of us.
When I found out you changed the burning of the I our sophomore year, I wanted to do everything I could to change it back. But apparently you had meetings every week with the current seniors and even they did not change your mind. During our senior year, we made a petition and every single one our classmates signed it, agreeing that it should only be sons and daughters, but you still did not even care. You still did not see how important this one tradition was to us.
I know you have probably received many letters similar to mine, but I am hoping from this letter it might give you a different perspective on this particular event. Because you have taken away something so special to each and every grade, your reputation is suffering. People do not respect you for your actions and you would get more credibility if you stuck to what the actual tradition was. Not only have you upset the students, but also their families as well. Some of the students parents are alumni of Iolani and sons and daughters themselves. They know how important this tradition is as well, and I’m sure they would have wanted their son or daughter to be able to take part in such a unique tradition. Let alone the families and students, the teachers also believe what you are doing is wrong. Does it really take just one opinion of someone who believes this is not “one team” to disrupt in a fury of a whole community? Please do what is right. Though it is too late to share this tradition amongst my grade, I hope you come to your senses and let the tradition come back.
Response to Junod – “The Lethal Presidency of Barack Obama”
I had a difficult time reading “The Lethal Presidency of Barack Obama.” It started introducing Obama as an “honorable man” and “historic figure,” but then Junod goes into criticizing Obama and his methods of targeted killing. The article jumps from topic to topic and the only story I stayed interested in was the story of Anwar al-Awlaki. Junod’s voice is very straight forward and empathetic to Anwar’s situation. In the first paragraph, his voice is almost sarcastic, like he is saying Obama is really not an honorable man or a historic figure. His overall voice throughout the article is very accusing of Obama saying that he had many other choices, but he chose to do target killings.
What I really enjoyed about this piece was the amount of knowledge Junod had about the topic he was writing about. You can tell from his context and diction he is really passionate about how he feels toward Obama and target killings. It helped me brainstorm more about my open letter topic because I knew I would have to choose something I was really passionate in order to bring a strong argument across to my audience.
My Outlet
When one of my best friends passed away in the beginning of my Junior Year, it changed my entire perspective of life. In those heart-wrenching moments, I swore nothing was fair. Bad days used to be getting a disappointing grade on a test or having a quarrel with my mother. However, a bad day for me now would be feeling the ache in my throat, the droplets of tears collecting in my eyes, and having it escalade into a meltdown that’s uncontrollable and unstoppable. They’re filled with reminiscing of our perfect past memories and the excruciating pain of reality.
Through all those hard days, all I wanted to do was talk to my bestfriend because no matter what the situation, he always seemed to find the perfect words to make me feel better. I missed having that one person I could always count on and trust. I kept getting so frustrated with myself because I just wanted to find a way to somehow connect with him again somewhere, somehow. Then one day I was reading through our old Facebook messages and I realized, maybe I can just message him here and pretend like I am talking to him. From that day, whenever I was having a hard time, I would describe how I felt, emoted my entire feelings to a person I knew would never respond. But somehow I knew he would see those messages and help me in other ways.
English was never my best subject. I used to hate writing and analyzing articles and books, but it then somehow transformed into this amazing outlet. Putting my emotions into words helped me understand myself and even rationalize my thoughts better. Even though I started writing more, it doesn’t mean I became this beautiful writer, but it is why I write. Everyone needs a way to express their feelings whether it’s through music, dance, or art, but mine is through writing.
Women In Lit 