Injustice and Discrimination

Throughout the course history, discrimination and racial barriers have always existed in different countries and cultures. Although racism has been fading due to the self-conscience that humans have attained for the past years, there are still many who remain ignorant. That dark side that persists in human minds has cut deeply into the hearts of many innocent victims.

On February 26, 2012, an African-American teenager from Florida(Trayvon Martin)was shot dead by a self-appointed watchman in the neighborhood in which he lived in, when he was out buying snacks. The patrolman—by the name of George Zimmerman—defended his crime by arguing that it was an act of self-defense, and that Martin looked “suspicious” wearing a dark hoodie when he was walking on the streets.

        Prejudice affects many people, and causes catastrophes; even nowadays. The incident with Travyon Martin is a clear example. The excuse, in which George Zimmerman gave to the police body— that he looked “suspicious”, wearing that hoodie—didn’t make sense. Why do you have to be a delinquent to be a black person wearing a hoodie?

 Prejudicial opinions come from stereotype of someone’s gender, religion, or race. It is unfair to those who are judged by the color of their skin, and not by their inner beauty. The ignorant people who judge that way have no idea of how it is like to be the one that’s judged upon, and don’t have the ability to put themselves in others’ shoes; due to that, they are the major cause of injustice that makes our world a darker place than it’s supposed to be.

        As individuals, there are a lot of things that we can achieve if we act as a group. Many people don’t take notice of the injustice happening all around the world, and even more are afraid to act; nevertheless, it is everyone’s responsibility to protect the weak and innocent, in order to make this world a better place.

        In the novel To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee , Scout’s father, Atticus, is a clear model that all individuals should follow. He defended a black man who was accused of something he didn’t do; Atticus did something that everyone knew was right, but something that no one dared to do.

 Some might ask, “Why do we have to get involved in problems that we didn’t take part in?” Well, the answer is that problems don’t get solved until someone comes out and solves them; if no one in the community had any intention whatsoever in helping, then the problem would remain dangling in thin air forever; which is it’s crucial for individuals to act together in order to create a much stronger force that can end the painful situation we’re in.

        People often fear what they don’t understand; there are people who are afraid of the unknown creatures out in the universe, there are people who are afraid of change, and there are people that are scared of those they haven’t interacted with before. In the case of the shooting in Florida, George Zimmerman didn’t understand anything about blacks, and automatically assumed that an African-American with a hoodie is dangerous.

        When people fear what they do not understand, they normally act defensively. George Zimmerman shot Martin because of his not understanding that blacks are just the same as whites. I think that part of him, was a little afraid of him because he didn’t know what Martin could do; his racist opinions caused him think stereotypically about blacks and he might’ve been afraid of what Martin would’ve done if he was really a delinquent.

        There are many different kinds of stereotypes, and gender is one of them. Just like racism, there are ignorant people who underestimate the power of women as well as blacks. This affects peoples’ behaviors, because by holding prejudice against someone, it is imminent that it’s going to cause a response from the victims. Gender stereotype is as bad as any other kind of discrimination, and the peoples’ behaviors certainly reflect directly upon it.

        Racism has been around for decades—centuries, even. It is our responsibility to raise awareness and notify the whole world so that it could be stopped; the death of Travyon Martin should awaken our self-conscience even more—to finally stop the discriminating and racist activities all across the globe. It is our responsibility to make our world a better place for every single living being in existence.

Strangeness Surrounding Maycomb County

This autumn was not like any other; Atticus said that the weather hadn't been this bizarre since 1885. I kept rubbing my numb fingers together in the cold, thinking about the sweltering heat that usually surrounds Maycomb County.

        Mrs. Radley passed away that autumn—better said, that winter. It hadn’t resulted as a calamity to most of the people in Maycomb; the Radley family was never completely assimilated in the community—they were considered as a reclusive bunch.

        Jem and I considered all the possibilities that might have taken place—that may have caused Mrs. Radley’s death. There was dissension over the topic, but we both agreed that Boo Radley was a major suspect. We weren’t usually meticulous about anything, but we filled up the unknown with striking details: the shackles, the bloody scene, the knives and all. We lionized Boo Radley.

        When we interrogated Atticus, he didn’t provide much information; Jem told me that it would make it worse if we pushed him, so we kept silent after hearing his lackadaisical answer.

        The peculiar snowflakes out the window made Jem and I eager to step outside just to get the feeling of it. When we rushed out the door, we realized that the thin layer of snow wouldn’t be enough for the snowman we wanted to build. It was imminent that it wouldn’t snow for long, so when I reached out my tongue to taste a flake—or when I walked in circles, sinking my feet into the ground—Jem told me that it would be better not to waste snow.

        We went to Miss Maudie’s to ask for snow, and we met Mr. Avery on our way. He said that it was the conspiring chaos that the children made, that changed the seasons. After I apprehended what he was trying to say, I wondered if our government was in a state of anarchy—I wondered why people like Mr. Avery were not arrested and arraigned for saying such remarks to children—but of course, that was just my imagination running wild.

        Miss Maudie agreed to us taking her snow—in fact, she didn’t want it inside her yard. Jem had a brilliant idea—although I didn’t think it was much of an idea at first—he scooped up mud and made the snowman and later he plastered the snow on top. The art piece looked familiar—the big stomach, the angry eyes, and the stick of stove wood that completed the picture. I thought that this was a worse punishment for Mr. Avery than to be brought before a court.

        Atticus liked the idea of making the snowman out of mud, but he got a little uneasy when he realized that we were trying to portrait Mr. Avery; he told us to modify the snowman and disguise it so that it wouldn’t offend Mr. Avery. Jem grabbed Miss Maudie’s hat and put it on the snowman’s head and a couple of hedge clippers on his arm. Although Miss Maudie told Atticus that our snowman resulted to be a morphodite, she grinned when she saw our creation; Atticus said that she was impressed by it.

        The following night was dreary, and the temperature crawled down to sixteen degrees. After several hours have elapsed, Atticus woke me up, and his voice told me that something was wrong. The fire was devouring Miss Maudie’s house when we got there. Men were sprinting in and out of the house, trying to save the little furniture that weren’t swallowed by the fire.

        Atticus was accompanying Miss Maudie when Jem and I were trying to stay on a safe distance from the fire. My attention was on the fire, and I did not notice when someone put a blanket around me. I was confused when Atticus asked me where I got the blanket from; it scared me even more, when he conjectured that Boo Radley had stood behind me, and put a blanket around my shoulders. That was my first encounter with Boo Radley.

The Letter to a Big Change

Dear Mr. Owens,

        How have you been doing? Twenty years have elapsed since we’ve last seen each other, and it hadn’t been exactly pleasant. I have the intention to change that, and hope that we are in an excellent relationship--because it is very likely that we would have the chance to see each other again.

        I found it extremely bizarre, that you didn’t contact Lily for such a long time. According to Lily, there had been a whole lot of dissension between you two in the past; she has been shackled for a long time, and didn’t know the meaning of freedom when she first got here. After twenty years, I hope we had made a difference.

Certainly, after the interrogation from racist groups and many obstacles she faced when you no longer took care of her, she has grown much stronger and has turned into a woman you probably no longer recognize.

The civil rights groups have been in a state of anarchy when Martin Luther King Jr. got assassinated. It has been a calamity to us, too--especially to Rosaleen, whom we call July; Rosaleen lionized Martin Luther King Jr. for being a brave man who fought for not only his liberty, but to his peoples’ freedom.

After his death, you would assume that our rights would be thrown down the toilet, but we have risen up and the Lady in Chains has guided us to our liberty. But in the process, many people have gotten hurt, and Lily has been suffering as well. She works hard every minute under the sweltering heat from the radiant sun in South Carolina; and everyone conspired to work with her despite of the racial differences. I am sure that you would be proud of her when you see her now; she has fended for herself for a long time, and I’m sure that you have changed too.

Since you and Lily, nor you and I have contacted through any sort of form; it would be an honor for me to keep you posted. Therefore; I shall inform you about the events that are going to take place soon.

        It is imminent that Lily is going to wed very soon. The man that she’s going to marry is none other than Zachary Lawrence Taylor- the man that was apprehended ten years ago. The racist group that captured him was arraigned, and he’s healthy and happy again, don’t you worry. Zach proposed to her not so long ago, and I must admit, that we were not at all expecting it. I trust that you already know about him-but in case you haven’t- he is a meticulous man and it is certain that he would treat her better than he treats himself. His career turned out to be quite successful, in fact; he recently graduated from law school. You wouldn’t have to worry about her life; but in case you’re worried, I would be more than happy to fill you in for the future.

        Even before you came for Lily ten years ago, Lily was already assimilated in our home-we didn’t see Lily as an outsider, so it might be a comfort to let you know that Lily has been in excellent condition ever since.

        Anyways, I hope that we can both put the past behind us; I would hope that you can attend to Lily’s wedding, as it would be best for her own father to walk her down the aisle. Hope to see you soon.

Love,

August Boatwright

The Problem We All Live With

The Problem We All Live With

The painting The Problem We All live with was painted by Norman Rockwell in November 14, 1960. It is shown with a 6-year-old African-American girl on the way to school, surrounded by four bodyguards. This is most likely taking place in the Deep South, as there are various details that represent the racism going on in the scene.

 On the top left side corner, KKK, the initials of a racist group Ku Klux Klan was written in a medium-sized font; and capital letters “nigger” written in a way that calls major attention, in the center of the wall. And a big stain of tomato juice is displayed beside the discriminating words; which explains why the African-American girl needs escorts on the way to school, to prevent racists to cause any harm to her.  

     This gives the viewer the impression of the segregation in the Deep South. It gives the viewer an idea of how prejudicial the society was against African-Americans. When I saw this painting at first, I didn’t notice the little details, and regarded it as a normal painting of Ruby Bridges walking to school with normal pedestrians walking with her. But after looking at it with a magnifying glass, I realized the effort that the artist put in it; the stains and the words on the walls were derogatory remarks that I couldn’t picture really happening. Imagining someone being treated like that since birth is unimaginable.

Norman Rockwell was an artist that paints the events that happen in everyday life in the United States. He painted this, aware of the situation that’s happening. I think that his painting focused on the African-American girl, because he wanted to show that she was the main character in this whole situation, and he by not showing a smile on her face, he wants to express how differently blacks felt during that time. Judging by the fact that Normal Rockwell cropped Ruby Bridges’ bodyguards faces of, I think it is because he wants people to concentrate on her, instead of the bodyguards; they are more like of an unimportant character, but he still draws them, and show the stripe they wear on their arms, so viewers could figure out that the racism was so bad that the federal government had to send bodyguards to protect her safety.

The faint color he used for the words “nigger” and the “KKK” also made me think that he did not draw it in a strong color, because although the Deep South was full of racist people, the world was beginning to change for the African-Americans. The government allowed blacks to do things they weren’t permitted to do before; the government was starting to desegregate the laws.

Travel Journal-The Trip to Colón

Many people may be complaining about how boring their vacations turned out. Some may say that it was interesting, amazing, or even exotic. Mine is extremely, and I mean exceptionally dull; and by that I mean I barely get out of the house, I didn't even go to the beach, or travel anyhow. Nevertheless, I think my parents got tired of seeing me laying around in the house, not doing anything in particular for three weeks, not actually exposing myself in the sunlight(literally) except for swimming in the Common Area.

So naturally, I made a big deal out of the fact that we were going to drive to Colón and take a good look at the Gatún Lake. I took my new camera with me (I got very excited because I got one for christmas, BEST christmas present ever) determined to take a picture of everything I thought worth taking. While we were driving,  it was kind of raining and we had a flat tire(guess what I was thinking). So we were basically stuck in the middle of nowhere, no good weather, and a flat tire. So what we, problem solvers decided to do was to pick up the cellphone and dial the number of the insurance company ( I swear, it took them probably 10 minutes to pick up). They informed us that there was two tire shops within 10 meters from the place we were standing; curious huh?

We went to the tire shop, (of course, we were suspicious) and there were a lot of cars with flat tires. I mean, it's hard to not think otherwise when there's two tire shops in such short distances and both of them were filled with somehow damaged cars, right? But I guess it's hard to picture one of the workers putting nails or sharp things all over the street anyways. Well, out of suspicion I took a long look at the thing that pinched the tire, ('cause the tires were pretty new, they couldnt've become flat on their own) and was dumbfounded when I saw the thing that was inside. It was this big chunk of metal, that seemed like a lost tool inside someone else's car. I still haven't got a clue about how that thing went inside the tire.


Well, after the bad luck, I guess most people would've just convinced themselves that it was much too tiring to be driving for such a long time and then waiting in the tire shop, and that they should just do something else that is much more relaxing and come back another day. But we didn't, being as stubborn as we already are. So we just continued our trip. I took a humongous amount of pictures in the restaurant that we ate brunch, and people were just staring at me when I was so excited taking pictures of my food.

After eating, we went to see the Gatún Lake, which is supposed to be the main point of the journey, but because I didn't think that much, I used almost all of the batteries of my camera taking unnecessary pictures, and drained myself (by looking from the tiny little hole that allows you to take pictures from that camera of mine) so most of the pictures were taken in the restaurant. When my batteries were nearly drained, we were at the gate already, prepared to leave, so I took the last picture(I took a picture of the security guys when we drove by in a flash of a second) and my cousin signaled them to look into the camera, one of them actually did, and the other one was kind of slow, so he looked after I already took the picture, well.



It seems like I have no life, writing so much about a little trip within Panama, not even staying there more than a day, but I actually had fun, and I might sound like a nerd saying this, but I think that this was the main highlight of my vacations(except for getting my camera).

The Empty Box of Chocolate; a Confession Tuesday

While the moon was shining bright, I woke up in the middle of a nightmare. Mafias chasing me with bloody knives; I certainly wouldn't want to return to that dream.

     I walked up to the fridge; hoping to find some vitamin C’s (sleeping pills, more like) but of course, we didn’t keep any. And then, I sort of got hungry all of the sudden, and tried to find something to eat in the kitchen. Naturally, there isn’t anything that I could just grab without people noticing.

     Suddenly, I spotted a box of chocolates, and being me, I opened it(I didn’t think that it was necessary to ask since it’s kind of consididerd an emergency) I was determined to eat only a little piece, but I sort of ended up eating until there was only one piece left. Oops.

    

I picked up that piece and tore off the wrapper, fingering it. I turned the box around, noticing a little paper on it that said, “For Elena.” (that, would be my sister) Gulp. Swallow. No more appetite. And after a few more hours; a shriek. “WHERE IS MY CHOCOLATE?!”

For more confessions click here

The Arrival of A Long Lost Memory

I gently put my backpack beside me bed and fell instantly on the soft surface. My shoulders were sore and my eyelids heavy. School was exhausting today, the reports were mediocre, and two articles had to be done. I’ll just start everything after getting some Z’s, I thought.

       

        As my gaze wandered around the room, it suddenly focused on an envelope on my empty desk. Ave. Balboa, Calle Juan de la Guardia, PH Sol Marina, 15B; para Emma. Addressed to me. Big surprise. I slit open the top of the envelope, and three pieces of paper dropped out. Astounded, I read line after line, truly surprised after I read the last line. XXOO, Ita.

        It seemed like a long time since I last met her. Actually it has been a long time. I remember our young faces, causing mischief inside fancy restaurants. Locking up the bathroom doors, laughing like madmen when waiters climb on ladders to unlock the doors so that other customers could use them. I even caught a faint scent of us collecting bottles of perfume and cologne of Givenchy, and exchanging mischievous glances during recitals and concerts.

        I flipped to the other pages, and Ita starts mentioning the things happening at her schools, mean girls cyberbullying others, meeting hot guys and celebrities like Brad Pitt, and parties she went to. The topic seemed like one we never had, one that didn’t involve action movies, guns, or basically anything we talked about before.

        “Dad, would you let me go visit Spain this summer?” I asked absent-mindedly, propping myself on the walls in the living room. He looked at me with sympathy, clearly knowing that my best friend has sent me a letter. “I’ll think about it.”

As I look upon the blue sky, I secretly imagine snowflakes drifting down. Imagining the day that I would board on a plane, meeting my old friends, classmates, and teachers in Spain.