While visiting my old high school, one of my favorite teachers told me about a book I should read. I had just told him about my last journalism assignment, which was investigating stories that the media handled wrong. My teacher told me about Dave Cullen's Columbine. Columbine, is about exactly what one would presume: the massacre at Columbine High School in 1999. There are few people in the United States that do not know about Columbine, especially in light of the recent school shooting, but few people actually know the true story. Cullen is the nation's foremost authority on Columbine and the primary objective of his narrative is to debunk the falsehoods fueled by the media.
The first and most widely known misconception about the shooting was that the two killers, Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris, were seeking revenge against the jock population at the high school for years of bullying. The truth is the boys' true intentions were to blow up the whole school, randomly killing as many people as possible. Eric, the mastermind of the plan, wanted to rival the death tolls at the, then recent, Oklahoma City Bombing, a fifty-one day standoff turned massacre at Branch Davidian compound in Waco Texas.
Both boys suffered from a god-complex brand of superiority, and depression. It was their goal to rid the world of stupid, stuck up, inferior people through their own form of natural selection. The most striking thing about the boys is despite their previous encounters with the law, no one put the pieces together in time to stop the massacre. The only reason the death toll was not higher was because the bombs meant to blow in the cafeteria malfunctioned and never went off. When the two boys realized that they immediately dropped the rest of the plan and went on a shooting rampage. To see their "mission" fulfilled, the boys sacrificed their lives. In his attempt to uncover the true motive and personalities of Eric and Dylan, Cullen writes of FBI agent and psychiatrist, Dwayne Fuselier's journey into the lives of Eric and Dylan, including interviews of friends and family, journals and the well kept secret of the "Basement Tapes" -- the videos that Eric and Dylan left that mapped out their plan and motive.
There was another media misconception regarding the martyrdom of Cassie Bernall. Years ago, I read the book She Said Yes: The Unlikely Martyrdom of Cassie Bernall. I learned how, in the face of death, she told Eric that she believed in God, securing her fate. I was shocked to read today that the story is not true. Most of She Said Yes is about Cassie's battle and victory with her own demons, but it was not Cassie who told Eric she believed in God that day in the library. It was actually Valeen Schnurr. The account is as follows: Valeen Schnurr was shot multiple times. She dropped to her knees pleading for God to save her. Upon hearing her plead, Dylan turned around and asked her if she believed in God. She answered yes. Before Dylan could shoot her, he became distracted and walked off, leaving Valeen alive.
The discrepancies between the two stories, of course, are the results of post traumatic stress, but instead of researching the accounts more thoroughly, the media took the story of Cassie and ran. Emily Wyant, who watched as Eric shot Cassie, told police that Cassie had no time to speak, nor did Eric. There were accounts like Emily's stating that Cassie was not the one who said yes, but there were also accounts from other students of just the opposite. One of these accounts was from Craig Scott. Craig believed that Cassie had said yes, but when he was brought into the library, police told him that Cassie was not found in the spot he believed she had been. Craig believed his story whole heartedly. Learning the truth proved to be too much for Craig, who fell sick as a result and had to leave the library.
Cullen investigates all aspects of the Columbine massacre, and subsequently revealed more misconceptions America was fed during the days after the tragedy. Stories of Dave Sanders, a teacher who sacrificed his life alerting students to the tragedy despite being shot, stories of Patrick Ireland, who the media deemed "The boy in the window," and stories of countless others bring to life the truth of what happened at Columbine.
Patrick Ireland's story touched me the most because of his sheer drive to live. After being left in the library to die from a shot in the head that disconnected communication from his brain and body, Patrick proceeded to move his half paralyzed body to the window. SWAT was able to get to Patrick before he pushed himself out of the second story window and he was immediately taken to the hospital. If that wasn't terrifying enough, Patrick spent a week in the ICU unaware of the extent of his injuries or the tragedy. All Patrick wanted to do was continue his life and complete his goals.
Though he speaks of his disappointment of media portrayal of the tragedy, Cullen commends The Rocking Mountain News and its ethical journalism. I could continue on to tell about the whole book, but this is definitely a book everyone needs to read. I urge those who remember Columbine and even those who do not to pick up Cullen's book, you will not be sorry. Columbine was more than a news headline, it was a tragedy that shook a little town in Colorado. Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, were not only ruthless killers, they were teenagers that did not receive the help they needed. Columbine will not only help you understand the killers, learn about faulty journalism and hear the stories of the victims, but it will also cause you to think about what needs to be done in the criminal justice system and mental health system to prevent mass shootings like Columbine.
Here are the two quotes Cullen opens his narrative with for you to ponder...
"I am a wicked man... But do you know, gentlemen, what was the main point of my wickedness? The whole thing, precisely was, the greatest nastiness precisely lay in my being shamefully conscious every moment, even in moments of the greatest bile, that I was not only a wicked man but was even an embittered man, that I was simply frightening sparrow in vain and pleasing myself with it." - Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from the Underground
"The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places." - Ernest Hemmingway, A Farewell to Arms
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Lincoln's Melancholy
As someone who is fascinated both by history and psychological illnesses, naturally, when deciding what book I would read, I chose Joshua Wolf Shenk's Lincoln's Melancholy: How Depression Challenged a President and Fueled His Greatness. Before I even began reading, I was well aware of the connection between psychological illnesses and some of the great talents of all time. Painter Georgia O'Keefe was manic-depressive (more commonly known as bi-polar disorder now). Manic-depression refers to a person who suffers not only from depressive states but also intense states of high energy, which reach the point of mania.Van Gogh was suspected to have episodes of both depression and manic- depression; poetic Emily Dickinson was severely depressed. Abraham Lincoln also suffered from depression. It was not until recently that scholars began to research Lincoln's depression more in depth. Shenk's book is one of the most recent books dedicated solely to documenting Lincoln's depression.
In the end depression, as with Lincoln and many others, fuels the fire for greatness. It is believed that depression motivates one to pursue projects. Staying busy stops one from dwelling on their failures and depression. The worst thing for someone with depression is to be isolated and ruminating over the pessimistic thoughts they have. Instead of letting the depressive moods take over, someone with depression can find true strength in using the so called "defect" to inspire greatness.
Connecting the creative process with mental illnesses has been a recent endeavor. Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi attributes the distinguishing factor of creative people to their complexity. These people seem to have thoughts that would not connect for a majority of people. They often have conflicting personality traits such as self-doubt and confidence, aggressive and cooperative, creating the psychological phenomenon called cognitive dissonance.
Psychiatrist, Kay Redfield Jamison, offers another view of the complexity of the creative person. Jamison writes that there is a great deal of evidence to support the fact that writers, artists and creative people score higher in measures of psychopathology, making them psychologically "sicker" than most individuals, but these same people also score high on confidence and ego stability proving that they might also be psychological healthier than most individuals.
The common belief today is that people in positions of strength never waver or doubt themselves, which could not be further from the truth. As shown with Lincoln, the inclination to see and prepare for the worst in people or events gives an advantage.
Psychiatrist George Vaillant's theory of the bedrock of character states that character comes not by good fortune, but by how people deal with problems. Vaillant identified habitual adaptations and defense mechanisms people use in facing problems. He writes, "If we use defenses well we are deemed mentally healthy, conscientious, funny, creative and altruistic. If we use them badly, the psychiatrist diagnoses us ill, our neighbors label us unpleasant and society brands us immoral." I find it interesting that a healthy person not only uses humor, altruism--placing other's needs above one's own needs--, anticipation for the future and sublimation--channeling one's energies toward another passion such as art or a project--, but a health person uses suppression. Personally, I was always told it was bad to suppress anything, but, for Vaillant, suppression is different and much better than denial because it is a selective action to remove oppressive stimuli.
Advice passed down through the ages has been for one to know thyself. It seems that the more you are comfortable and familiar with your own personality the easier it is to live, love others and even achieve. Lincoln, as Shenk states, "understood himself to be one whose heart was uncommonly affected by the pain of life. He had often found himself fearing the pain would never end. He had learned from severe experience that suffering had to be acknowledged and tolerated and that it might with patience lead to something that could not be known without it." I believe it was because of this belief in himself and the belief that suffering lead to wisdom that Lincoln dared to be vulnerable in his emotions around others no matter the consequences.
The brilliance of Shenk's exploration into Lincoln's melancholy's lies not in the historical context of the story, but the connection between the realities of depression and the inspiration a story such as Lincoln's can produce. In the epilogue, Shenk writes about his experiences while researching the book. Surrounded by a convention of men dressed as Lincoln himself in West Virginia at the Association of Lincoln Presenters annual event, Shenk began an insightful conversation with one of the Lincolns, Cranston "Bud" Green. After telling Bud of his book on Lincoln's melancholy, Bud so vulnerably told him about his own struggles with depression. My point in including this story is the same as Shenk's. By studying others, especially those similar to one in personality and temperament, one discovers ways to take on life. As Bud illustrates when he answers "yes" when asked if dressing up as Lincoln helps his depression, learning about others helps us find meaning in our own ordinary lives. Learning of another's courage to be vulnerable allows one to be vulnerable, gives one the courage to ask for help or tell one's story. Wisdom is not only accomplished through living life, but also through learning from another's experiences. "And even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God above. " - Aeschylus
Shenk begins by documenting what psychologists define as depression. The most striking aspect of Shenk's description of depression is how he equates depression to more commonplace ailments. He states that depression is not like the flu or a cold, but more like a chronic illness such as hypertension or asthma. Like someone with these two illnesses, a person with chronic major depression has it throughout life. That is not to say that the person does not experience joy or happiness but there is always a looming possibility of a depressive episode. Major depression is defined as a period of sadness for more than two weeks that include symptoms like excessive sleeping or insomnia, over or under-eating, loss of interest in activities once enjoyed and isolation from one's family and friends. For one to be diagnosed with chronic depression one has to have had two or more episodes of depression during a life span. These episodes have to be weeks to months apart and have to last for at least two weeks.
Mental illness during the 1800s was not socially acceptable or studied. There were few insane asylums and the mentally ill were left to fend for themselves or stay with family. Depression was not an illness recognized during Lincoln's life; however, chronic sadness was addressed with the title "melancholy."There is evidence in Lincoln's own writings and the statements of close friends that he suffered from two major episodes of depression; one episode caused his friends to begin a suicide watch.
Chronic sadness became a prominent part of his personality. As with most people dealing with depression, Lincoln found ways to alleviate his depressive moods, if only for a little bit. Lincoln's self medication was the telling of humorous stories. Most people who knew Lincoln or saw him in person characterized his face as pensive and one full of gloom.
Chronic sadness became a prominent part of his personality. As with most people dealing with depression, Lincoln found ways to alleviate his depressive moods, if only for a little bit. Lincoln's self medication was the telling of humorous stories. Most people who knew Lincoln or saw him in person characterized his face as pensive and one full of gloom.
Ideas of depression during Lincoln's time and today are totally different. During Lincoln's life, melancholy was seen, somewhat, as a strength not a hindrance. Melancholy allowed one to see the world in a more cautious way. Today it is more common for one with depression to seem weak. Depression is seen as something that needs to be cured in order to be happy. Happiness becomes the only way to have a good life. It is not often that people today see the wisdom that can grow from depression. Lincoln often used the quote from an old parable of an Eastern monarch, "And this too shall pass away," to remind himself and others of the necessity to look to the future, not to the past or the failures of the present. Hoping that pain would subside and the greatness of a great leader continue, Lincoln added his own ending to the quote, "And yet let us hope it is not quite true." Lincoln never wanted the intellectual and moral convictions of a leader to pass, but hoped for the sweetness of better times that would someday come.
Victor Frankl would label Lincoln a "tragic optimist," one who looks for meaning in the tragedies of life. Frankl states that life involves three inevitable kinds of tragedy, the "tragic triad:"- Pain and suffering,
- Guilt, because we are free to make choices in our lives, and are responsible for the impact of those choices, and
- Death, and knowing that our life is transient.
He says that it is hard to find meaning in the face of such tragedy, but that if we do not, then our sense of meaninglessness lies behind our experiences of:
- Depression,
- Aggression, and
- Addiction.
He continues by citing three ways to find meaning in life:
- Through our work or deeds,
- Through experiences or encounters with other people (e.g. love), and
- Through rising above, and growing from, the inevitable suffering which we will experience.
Frankl suggests three ways to find meaning in all three tragedies:
- Pain and suffering – from learning from the experience and finding meaning in it,
- Guilt – by taking responsibility for our actions, and
- Death – by living our life as if it was for the second time, knowing how we got it wrong the first time.
In the end depression, as with Lincoln and many others, fuels the fire for greatness. It is believed that depression motivates one to pursue projects. Staying busy stops one from dwelling on their failures and depression. The worst thing for someone with depression is to be isolated and ruminating over the pessimistic thoughts they have. Instead of letting the depressive moods take over, someone with depression can find true strength in using the so called "defect" to inspire greatness.
Connecting the creative process with mental illnesses has been a recent endeavor. Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi attributes the distinguishing factor of creative people to their complexity. These people seem to have thoughts that would not connect for a majority of people. They often have conflicting personality traits such as self-doubt and confidence, aggressive and cooperative, creating the psychological phenomenon called cognitive dissonance.
Psychiatrist, Kay Redfield Jamison, offers another view of the complexity of the creative person. Jamison writes that there is a great deal of evidence to support the fact that writers, artists and creative people score higher in measures of psychopathology, making them psychologically "sicker" than most individuals, but these same people also score high on confidence and ego stability proving that they might also be psychological healthier than most individuals.
The common belief today is that people in positions of strength never waver or doubt themselves, which could not be further from the truth. As shown with Lincoln, the inclination to see and prepare for the worst in people or events gives an advantage.
Psychiatrist George Vaillant's theory of the bedrock of character states that character comes not by good fortune, but by how people deal with problems. Vaillant identified habitual adaptations and defense mechanisms people use in facing problems. He writes, "If we use defenses well we are deemed mentally healthy, conscientious, funny, creative and altruistic. If we use them badly, the psychiatrist diagnoses us ill, our neighbors label us unpleasant and society brands us immoral." I find it interesting that a healthy person not only uses humor, altruism--placing other's needs above one's own needs--, anticipation for the future and sublimation--channeling one's energies toward another passion such as art or a project--, but a health person uses suppression. Personally, I was always told it was bad to suppress anything, but, for Vaillant, suppression is different and much better than denial because it is a selective action to remove oppressive stimuli.
Advice passed down through the ages has been for one to know thyself. It seems that the more you are comfortable and familiar with your own personality the easier it is to live, love others and even achieve. Lincoln, as Shenk states, "understood himself to be one whose heart was uncommonly affected by the pain of life. He had often found himself fearing the pain would never end. He had learned from severe experience that suffering had to be acknowledged and tolerated and that it might with patience lead to something that could not be known without it." I believe it was because of this belief in himself and the belief that suffering lead to wisdom that Lincoln dared to be vulnerable in his emotions around others no matter the consequences.
The brilliance of Shenk's exploration into Lincoln's melancholy's lies not in the historical context of the story, but the connection between the realities of depression and the inspiration a story such as Lincoln's can produce. In the epilogue, Shenk writes about his experiences while researching the book. Surrounded by a convention of men dressed as Lincoln himself in West Virginia at the Association of Lincoln Presenters annual event, Shenk began an insightful conversation with one of the Lincolns, Cranston "Bud" Green. After telling Bud of his book on Lincoln's melancholy, Bud so vulnerably told him about his own struggles with depression. My point in including this story is the same as Shenk's. By studying others, especially those similar to one in personality and temperament, one discovers ways to take on life. As Bud illustrates when he answers "yes" when asked if dressing up as Lincoln helps his depression, learning about others helps us find meaning in our own ordinary lives. Learning of another's courage to be vulnerable allows one to be vulnerable, gives one the courage to ask for help or tell one's story. Wisdom is not only accomplished through living life, but also through learning from another's experiences. "And even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God above. " - Aeschylus
Friday, December 14, 2012
Connecticut Elementary
As millions of Americans did today, I watched as the story of the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting unfolded. Watching World News with Diane Sawyer, I saw this video of a Kaitlin Roig, a brave teacher at the school. Her bravery was inspiring, so inspiring and heartbreaking I wanted to pass it along for others to see. My heart goes out to all the families. "The healthy man does not torture others - generally it is the tortured who turn into torturers." - Carl Jung
The Humanity of All Animals
Have you ever wanted to be a chimpanzee? Watching the movie Chimpanzee by Disney, makes me wonder what it would be like to be one. Following a baby chimp named Oscar, the movie shows the life of a family. Imagine being able to climb the tallest trees and swinging at will. Oscar is so tiny he can easily swing himself onto his mother's back for a ride. The inner workings of a chimp was first researched by Jane Goodall. I remember watching a 60 Minutes story about how she was able to live with them and become somewhat of a surrogate mother. I have a fascination with animals, and if it was not for my hate for biology and other sciences I would have become a zoologist or vet. I would love to be able to work with chimps, orangutans, elephants, tiger, lions, any animal. My dream is to go to Africa to cover a story for National Geographic.
The movie explores the rivalry amongst the male in the family. I first discovered the volatile nature of these animals when reading, Zoo Story by Thomas French. In the zoo a younger chimp attacks a beloved older chimp to become the alpha male of the zoo, almost killing him. The book taught me tremendously new things about animal not only about Chimps but elephants, tigers and more. Like Zoo Story, Chimpanzees, provides so many new lessons, like how chimps eat monkeys when food is low. Despite my knowledge of the circle of life and being a carnivore myself, whenever I see another animal or a human kill an animal it breaks my heart. I climb into cages at work to calm a scared dog down or just provide company. Because of this compassion, watching Oscar search for his mother, unaware of her death, makes me want to hold him, makes me want to become his surrogate mother like Jane Goodall once did.
Animals have such freedom. There are utterly fascinating. It is easy to see the humanity in all animals. Seeing the suffering of animals sparks a protectiveness in me. I once became so angry I threw a highlighter at my roommate because instead of symbolically adopting a panda from World Wildlife Fund, she wanted me to get her a real panda. That night I was entranced by the stories of endangered animals on the website. Images of skin, the only thing left of a dead elephant are ingrained in my mind. To this day, people still kill elephants for ivory. Did you know when elephants are attacked they are able to make a deep call only other elephants can here to warn others miles away not to come near?
As I think about my future, I am more and more drawn to working with animals with my journalism degree. I hope to work at National Geographic, World Wildlife Fund or National Wildlife Federation. There are so many endangered animals in the world and we, as humans, need to help keep these animals around. Whether it be polar bears and global warming or the senseless killing of exotic animals for human greed, animals need protection. In my attempt to bring awareness to the world, I will be starting to write more about different animal stories and the links between all animals. If you have not seen the movie Chimpanzee I highly suggest it. There is nothing cuter than watching Oscar try to open a nut with a stick - perplexed as to why the stick will not hit the nut. See the humanity in his eyes when he is all alone. Find an appreciation for the other truly amazing animals on this planet.
The movie explores the rivalry amongst the male in the family. I first discovered the volatile nature of these animals when reading, Zoo Story by Thomas French. In the zoo a younger chimp attacks a beloved older chimp to become the alpha male of the zoo, almost killing him. The book taught me tremendously new things about animal not only about Chimps but elephants, tigers and more. Like Zoo Story, Chimpanzees, provides so many new lessons, like how chimps eat monkeys when food is low. Despite my knowledge of the circle of life and being a carnivore myself, whenever I see another animal or a human kill an animal it breaks my heart. I climb into cages at work to calm a scared dog down or just provide company. Because of this compassion, watching Oscar search for his mother, unaware of her death, makes me want to hold him, makes me want to become his surrogate mother like Jane Goodall once did.
Animals have such freedom. There are utterly fascinating. It is easy to see the humanity in all animals. Seeing the suffering of animals sparks a protectiveness in me. I once became so angry I threw a highlighter at my roommate because instead of symbolically adopting a panda from World Wildlife Fund, she wanted me to get her a real panda. That night I was entranced by the stories of endangered animals on the website. Images of skin, the only thing left of a dead elephant are ingrained in my mind. To this day, people still kill elephants for ivory. Did you know when elephants are attacked they are able to make a deep call only other elephants can here to warn others miles away not to come near?
As I think about my future, I am more and more drawn to working with animals with my journalism degree. I hope to work at National Geographic, World Wildlife Fund or National Wildlife Federation. There are so many endangered animals in the world and we, as humans, need to help keep these animals around. Whether it be polar bears and global warming or the senseless killing of exotic animals for human greed, animals need protection. In my attempt to bring awareness to the world, I will be starting to write more about different animal stories and the links between all animals. If you have not seen the movie Chimpanzee I highly suggest it. There is nothing cuter than watching Oscar try to open a nut with a stick - perplexed as to why the stick will not hit the nut. See the humanity in his eyes when he is all alone. Find an appreciation for the other truly amazing animals on this planet.
I believe in exactly what Jane Goodall said, The least I can do is speak out for those who cannot speak for themselves." Finishing my "into" into animals I so deeply love, I leave you with another quote by Jane Goodall to ponder upon, "And if we dare to look into those eyes, then we shall feel their suffering in our hearts. More and more people have seen that appeal and felt it in their hearts. All around the world there is an awakening of understanding and compassion, and understanding that reaches out to help the suffering animals in their vanishing homelands. That embraces hungry, sick and desperate human beings, people who are one starving while the fortunate among us have so much more than we need. And if, one by one, we help the, m the hurting animals, the desperate humans, then together we shall alleviate so much of the hunger, fear and pain in the world. Together we can bring change to the world, gradually replacing fear and hatred with compassion and love. Love for all living beings."
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Monsters
It is ironic when happy, cheerful people talk about things as morbid as murder. Walking into my nine am journalism class I did not expect to have a lecture on lynching, but it really got me thinking. Of course this is not a new topic. Like other students, at least I hope, I have been exposed to lynching and the horrors of racism, but this was different. Today I saw a connection between mobs watching people die to my daily experiences with people watching others suffer. It is almost belittles something as important in historical context as lynching by comparing it to emotional suffering in everyday life but throughout class all I could think about was the recent blog I wrote, The Two L's Love and Lonliness. Like the questions I posed in that blog, "How could you sit by and not comfort someone in need," I was asking similar questions in class. Over and over, I thought to myself, how could these mobs think watching someone die is something to be proud of? Lynching mobs and even bystanders during the 60's civil rights movement, how could these people not have a nagging voice in their head saying, "This is wrong. You have to do something?"
What comes to mind is the innocent bystander theory in pyschology. Everyone in a crowd thinks someone else will intervene, so they don't have to. Using this theory in this context does nothing though. A pyschological phenomenon that does apply is conditioning. It is enlightening to recognize that people in history are the products of their age, just as we are. The time period, place and cultural norm, of the era one grows up in influences one's thoughts and behaviors tremendously. Knowing that though does not change the appalling feeling one feels when learning about the atrocities in history. Acknowledging that the environment affects everyone still does not excuse one of the horrors they commit. Doing that is like saying it is okay for a murderer to continue on a killing spree because he or she was abused during childhood. The abuse provides a deep psychological motive for how the person became a murderer but in no way does society just let a murderer go free because of past experiences. Understanding someone's past or even the historical cultural context of an era exposes the humanity in the criminal making it harder to place the label of monster.
Personally, I find myself creating a monster out of someone who has hurt me because it is easier to place blame. When someone or something becomes human, it is harder to not empathizes or sympathizes with the person. Compassion is one of my biggest strengths, but often because it is such a huge part of who I am, it hurts me. When I allow myself to empathize with someone who have hurt me, I release this person from blame and continue to associate with them, which only leads to more mistakes on their part and hurt on mine. I am not saying I am an innocent in this at all. What I am trying to say is that looking into someone's past allows you to understand why they are the person they are. My best friend likes to think that nobody has flaws. These so called flaws are what makes that person's personality. She believes as humans we make mistakes, no one should be condemned for the seemingly "bad" part of their personality. After all we are all products of our past. As Stephen King said, "Monsters are real and ghosts are real too. They live inside of us, and sometimes, they win." We all have those moments when we are not the best we can be.
As with anything there are exceptions to the rule, when the crime or action is as heinous as say Hitler's reasoning for the Holocaust, but I guess that just means you have to take it case by case. When it is in a historical context it is easier to label and not try to understand than with everyday occurences. My pledge though is always before reaching for hate, try to understand someone, including their past. Because of this pledge I have with myself, it makes it hard for me to understand how someone can watch another human being suffer. So before you look to judge, think about how this quote applies to yourself and therefore can apply to anyone else:"I am who I am because of who I was; I am the sum of my experiences."
What comes to mind is the innocent bystander theory in pyschology. Everyone in a crowd thinks someone else will intervene, so they don't have to. Using this theory in this context does nothing though. A pyschological phenomenon that does apply is conditioning. It is enlightening to recognize that people in history are the products of their age, just as we are. The time period, place and cultural norm, of the era one grows up in influences one's thoughts and behaviors tremendously. Knowing that though does not change the appalling feeling one feels when learning about the atrocities in history. Acknowledging that the environment affects everyone still does not excuse one of the horrors they commit. Doing that is like saying it is okay for a murderer to continue on a killing spree because he or she was abused during childhood. The abuse provides a deep psychological motive for how the person became a murderer but in no way does society just let a murderer go free because of past experiences. Understanding someone's past or even the historical cultural context of an era exposes the humanity in the criminal making it harder to place the label of monster.
Personally, I find myself creating a monster out of someone who has hurt me because it is easier to place blame. When someone or something becomes human, it is harder to not empathizes or sympathizes with the person. Compassion is one of my biggest strengths, but often because it is such a huge part of who I am, it hurts me. When I allow myself to empathize with someone who have hurt me, I release this person from blame and continue to associate with them, which only leads to more mistakes on their part and hurt on mine. I am not saying I am an innocent in this at all. What I am trying to say is that looking into someone's past allows you to understand why they are the person they are. My best friend likes to think that nobody has flaws. These so called flaws are what makes that person's personality. She believes as humans we make mistakes, no one should be condemned for the seemingly "bad" part of their personality. After all we are all products of our past. As Stephen King said, "Monsters are real and ghosts are real too. They live inside of us, and sometimes, they win." We all have those moments when we are not the best we can be.
As with anything there are exceptions to the rule, when the crime or action is as heinous as say Hitler's reasoning for the Holocaust, but I guess that just means you have to take it case by case. When it is in a historical context it is easier to label and not try to understand than with everyday occurences. My pledge though is always before reaching for hate, try to understand someone, including their past. Because of this pledge I have with myself, it makes it hard for me to understand how someone can watch another human being suffer. So before you look to judge, think about how this quote applies to yourself and therefore can apply to anyone else:"I am who I am because of who I was; I am the sum of my experiences."
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Perfection
Everyone has that one place where the rest of the world disappears. When I was younger my place existed in my mind- my place existed everywhere, as long as I was reading a book. To this day books can still hold me in a trance, but I have discovered another world. This place connects with my soul. Books connected with my mind, but this place - oh, there is no place like it.
My senior year of high school whenever I thought I could not handle my life or control myself I walked into the art room. It is here I discovered my solace. I was finally at peace. I was in that room for hours on end. I would sneak in whenever I could. There was nothing like drawing or working on my projects. Using my creative side sparked a desire in me that I did not know existed. But surprisingly the art room is not my place.
My place is, like with my books, intangible. This place exists whenever I am working with glass. My favorite project was working with glass. And being intense, I decided to make a stain glass music box. After hours and hours, stealing every minute of my time and coming into school an hour early most mornings I finally finished. Initially my teacher thought I was in over my head - I proved him wrong. I remembered sitting for days staring at my box trying to figure out how I was suppose to make the music play upon opening the lid. The greatest illustration of how far away I was from the world though, was the time I burned my hand. Instead of holding the sautering iron by the handle I grabbed the searing rod. It honestly did not hit me how immersed I was until the pain set in.
I have been obsessed with glass since I first saw Sweet Home Alabama years ago. I have a life long dream to work in a studio blowing glass. By posting that here, I have done something I do not do often. Very few people know about my dream because it is so precious to me. Since I arrived at college I have been upset I am not in a studio. At this very moment there is nothing I would rather be doing than sketching a design or working with glass. With glass everything in the world is perfect, nothing else exists. For once my life is in perfect harmony. I wish I was an art student, but since I am not, I am stuck without my solace, a solace that provides an escape, that allows me to feel incredibly free. Escapes in life are necessary. I am not suggesting when faced with a problem, someone should run away. I am saying everyone has to have a place where they feel completely themselves. There has to be a place that people can just lose themselves. When I work with glass I lose myself. I find myself in such a state of concentration, I don't know what is going on around me. I would give anything to fulfill my dream. No words can truly illustrate what happens to me when I am in the world of glass. It is a beautiful feeling. I know someone could immediately tell I loved glass just by watching me work. It's something you cannot miss. In life there are not many things that bring a person to life. If you have something like that never let it go, fight for your solace, fight for your happiness. Your passion will open many doors. Your passion will keep you alive. "Are you living or are you existing?" - Tyler Perry, The Family That Preys
My senior year of high school whenever I thought I could not handle my life or control myself I walked into the art room. It is here I discovered my solace. I was finally at peace. I was in that room for hours on end. I would sneak in whenever I could. There was nothing like drawing or working on my projects. Using my creative side sparked a desire in me that I did not know existed. But surprisingly the art room is not my place.
My place is, like with my books, intangible. This place exists whenever I am working with glass. My favorite project was working with glass. And being intense, I decided to make a stain glass music box. After hours and hours, stealing every minute of my time and coming into school an hour early most mornings I finally finished. Initially my teacher thought I was in over my head - I proved him wrong. I remembered sitting for days staring at my box trying to figure out how I was suppose to make the music play upon opening the lid. The greatest illustration of how far away I was from the world though, was the time I burned my hand. Instead of holding the sautering iron by the handle I grabbed the searing rod. It honestly did not hit me how immersed I was until the pain set in.
I have been obsessed with glass since I first saw Sweet Home Alabama years ago. I have a life long dream to work in a studio blowing glass. By posting that here, I have done something I do not do often. Very few people know about my dream because it is so precious to me. Since I arrived at college I have been upset I am not in a studio. At this very moment there is nothing I would rather be doing than sketching a design or working with glass. With glass everything in the world is perfect, nothing else exists. For once my life is in perfect harmony. I wish I was an art student, but since I am not, I am stuck without my solace, a solace that provides an escape, that allows me to feel incredibly free. Escapes in life are necessary. I am not suggesting when faced with a problem, someone should run away. I am saying everyone has to have a place where they feel completely themselves. There has to be a place that people can just lose themselves. When I work with glass I lose myself. I find myself in such a state of concentration, I don't know what is going on around me. I would give anything to fulfill my dream. No words can truly illustrate what happens to me when I am in the world of glass. It is a beautiful feeling. I know someone could immediately tell I loved glass just by watching me work. It's something you cannot miss. In life there are not many things that bring a person to life. If you have something like that never let it go, fight for your solace, fight for your happiness. Your passion will open many doors. Your passion will keep you alive. "Are you living or are you existing?" - Tyler Perry, The Family That Preys
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Restless Mind
There is restlessness and restless leg syndrome but I think there is also restless mind. I am bringing this up because right now I don't think I could calm my mind down if my life depended on it. There are so many thoughts going through my mind. The ironic thing is I do not even know what these thoughts are. Many sleepless nights are attributed to this swirl of energy commandeering my mind. Commandeering, that's right. Yes, I did learn that word from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. See what I mean? I honestly do not know what will come out of my mouth when this happens. I often find myself lost in a sea of thought that leads me meandering down a path of complete erraticism. This all encompassing state leaves me entranced. If I am in any kind of a social situation I zone into my own world. It is clear I have no idea what is going on around me. Usually all I want to do is leave so I can be alone to think and write. My mind bounces from one thing to another. When I can't even figure out where my mind is I have to sing. "We only said goodbye with words, I died a hundred times. You go back to her and I go back to black." Amy Winehouse - my favorite artist to sing. I think she maybe had a problem with controlling her thoughts too. But the thing is when I can harness what is going on in my mind, it is incredible. I wonder if that happened to her too. Is that how she got all the soul into her lyrics? Lying down doesn't help either. All that does is frustrate me more because I can't silence my mind. I just realized this usually happens when I have a million questions I want to ask. I problem is, for some reason, people don't like being asked questions. In my experience they are afraid to be vulnerable and show their true self, but I could be wrong. Why is answering a questions so uncomfortable? All I want to do is understand. I am a naturally curious person. The only cure is talking to someone who doesn't mind listening to the workings of a restless mind, or if possible diving deep into a project. When all else fails napping with music to drown out the thoughts is the last resort. "Not all who wander are lost." - J.R.R. Tolkien
The Two L's: Love and Loneliness
Lying in bed, I couldn't help think about one thing I am going to miss when I go back to school. I knew it would be impossible to go to sleep until I wrote this down, so here I am typing. Usually something like this would go in my journal, but I think this is something I need to share. I will miss my dog sleeping with me, because strangely I see myself in her. I see what everybody wants in her. The battle I have is, I believe, one that everyone struggles with, whether it be infrequent or everyday. I will miss not having to sleep alone every night. I will miss being able to think someone actually wants to be with me, wants to cuddle- even if it is only my dog haha.
My dog's name is Saba and she came into the family as a surprise. We lost our German Shepherd CJ this year which, as weird as some people might see it, devastated us. He was an amazing dog, a dog we miss dearly. The adoption story of Saba is a long one but to make it short we weren't going to get another dog but Saba was a stray at the vet clinic I work at and one day I came home to her sitting in my living room. Now that I think of it CJ also had the qualities I see in Saba, but he showed it in a different way.
Saba is a German Shepherd about eighty pounds but she really thinks she is a lap dog. When I say this I mean she jumps on the couch to sit in someone's lap and she gets into bed with me or my sister. She doesn't just lay there at the bottom of the bed she lays on top of us. It is this occurrence that happened every night I was home this week that made me realize all she wants is not to be alone and to feel loved. Isn't that what everyone wants? I know that is my weakness. Going back to school I will miss the connection I had with her. I know I am drawn to be around her and to pet her because I can see the sadness and need in her eyes. I know this sounds crazy, I see the need in the eyes of my dog, but how could someone not? Animal lover doesn't begin to cover me, I see personalities and souls in animals. After all Saba does snore like humans and so did CJ. This is the reason I crawl into cages during work to calm a scared dog down.
What I am trying to get at is why is it so hard for people to understand the universal desire and need for humanity, the desire to be loved and not feel alone? I struggle with this question everyday. How hard is it to call a friend for a couple minutes or take a fifteen minute train ride to see a friend in need? Why is it impossible for people to see how happy they make another? Why don't they see how important they are to that person and actually give them the time of day? Maybe they could feel the same way? Why is it that,“too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around?” It blows my mind how selfish humans can be at times. If only we could see the commonalities among us.
I believe this question will be with me all my life if it's not one of the age old questions humanity deals with. These are the questions that consume my mind, questions that keep me (or you) awake at night. I guess that is why I don't get much sleep. But how could anyone when there are things as great and mysterious as this on one's mind? Am I the only one who sees it this way? Am I the only one who, and yes I know how vulnerable I am making myself by saying this, but am I the only one who wishes for love that casts away all the loneliness deep inside? What makes me question this even more is listening to Taylor Swift. No matter what anyone thinks about her, the lyrics she writes resinates with every girl, if not everyone. Tonight listening to I Knew You Were Trouble reminded me of the first boy I fell in love with. That good or bad memories, depending on how you look at it, reinforced even more how love always shows hope of appearing and loneliness disappearing-ending only with each hope to be ripped away. What do you think? What I know is one should... "Judge a man by his questions rather than his answers" - Voltaire
My dog's name is Saba and she came into the family as a surprise. We lost our German Shepherd CJ this year which, as weird as some people might see it, devastated us. He was an amazing dog, a dog we miss dearly. The adoption story of Saba is a long one but to make it short we weren't going to get another dog but Saba was a stray at the vet clinic I work at and one day I came home to her sitting in my living room. Now that I think of it CJ also had the qualities I see in Saba, but he showed it in a different way.
Saba is a German Shepherd about eighty pounds but she really thinks she is a lap dog. When I say this I mean she jumps on the couch to sit in someone's lap and she gets into bed with me or my sister. She doesn't just lay there at the bottom of the bed she lays on top of us. It is this occurrence that happened every night I was home this week that made me realize all she wants is not to be alone and to feel loved. Isn't that what everyone wants? I know that is my weakness. Going back to school I will miss the connection I had with her. I know I am drawn to be around her and to pet her because I can see the sadness and need in her eyes. I know this sounds crazy, I see the need in the eyes of my dog, but how could someone not? Animal lover doesn't begin to cover me, I see personalities and souls in animals. After all Saba does snore like humans and so did CJ. This is the reason I crawl into cages during work to calm a scared dog down.
What I am trying to get at is why is it so hard for people to understand the universal desire and need for humanity, the desire to be loved and not feel alone? I struggle with this question everyday. How hard is it to call a friend for a couple minutes or take a fifteen minute train ride to see a friend in need? Why is it impossible for people to see how happy they make another? Why don't they see how important they are to that person and actually give them the time of day? Maybe they could feel the same way? Why is it that,“too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around?” It blows my mind how selfish humans can be at times. If only we could see the commonalities among us.
I believe this question will be with me all my life if it's not one of the age old questions humanity deals with. These are the questions that consume my mind, questions that keep me (or you) awake at night. I guess that is why I don't get much sleep. But how could anyone when there are things as great and mysterious as this on one's mind? Am I the only one who sees it this way? Am I the only one who, and yes I know how vulnerable I am making myself by saying this, but am I the only one who wishes for love that casts away all the loneliness deep inside? What makes me question this even more is listening to Taylor Swift. No matter what anyone thinks about her, the lyrics she writes resinates with every girl, if not everyone. Tonight listening to I Knew You Were Trouble reminded me of the first boy I fell in love with. That good or bad memories, depending on how you look at it, reinforced even more how love always shows hope of appearing and loneliness disappearing-ending only with each hope to be ripped away. What do you think? What I know is one should... "Judge a man by his questions rather than his answers" - Voltaire
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Feelings We Need Words For
While writing my other post today I looked up at my wall and saw the greatest thing I ever found on the Internet. Actually my sister found it but she sent it to me, whatever. The point is it is truly amazing. I'm not going to dissect it because it speaks for itself. I did not write this, but I would love to meet the person who did. Who ever wrote it is genius. Definitely a crazy one! If you can't get enough check out the Thought Catalog! It's Awesome!!!!!
"Colors fade, temples crumble, empires fall, but wise words endure." - Edward Thorndike
"Colors fade, temples crumble, empires fall, but wise words endure." - Edward Thorndike
Feelings We Need Words For
By 
English is so bad at describing what it means to grieve. We use words like bereft or bitter or sad, or we say we have a broken heart. But none of these really get at the nuances. The words don’t seem to capture each exquisitely painful feeling.
For example, there should be a word, maybe borrowed from German, a language so good at expressing complicated mental states in a single lengthy word with many chewy consonants, for when you miss someone so incredibly, achingly much, when that person pervades every thought, every interaction, every waking moment, but you also loathe them. Because they treated you badly, or because they were too weak to be honest with you. Because you were betrayed. And because you loathe them, you hate yourself for missing that person so intensely. For missing the laughter they inspired; for wishing for the easy intimacy that you built. You hate yourself for knowing that they aren’t worth so much sadness, that such an outlay of mental energy is entirely wasted and useless. But you feel it anyway, and you cry in the shower or into your pillow or anytime something reminds you of that person. Which is all the time. There should definitely be a word for that.
There should also be a word, maybe from the French, who do existentialism so well, for the feeling of disconnection you cultivate when you walk through the streets with your headphones on, sad songs blasting into your ears loudly enough that you can pretend you are alone. You pass by other people almost without seeing them, since you can’t hear them. You walk by shops and offices on the sidewalk, going somewhere or maybe not going anywhere in particular, feeling like the music in your ears is a soundtrack to your sadness. This song makes you think of that person; that song comes close to capturing how lonely you are without them. You isolate yourself physically because you feel so isolated inside; surrounded by people, you are still alone, because you have been abandoned by that one person who made you feel somehow less alone.
English is also missing a word for how it feels when you know that person has moved on so quickly. When you find out you weren’t as important as you thought you were. When you realize that they were acting selfishly instead of caring about you, or when you understand that you didn’t really come into it at all for them, they were just doing what they needed to do. Maybe it should come from Russian, because the Russians know despair. You thought you were finally getting over them. You could almost go an hour, if you were busy with something really important, without thinking about them. Then you see a Facebook post or hear some gossip from mutual friends, and you realize you weren’t over it. Not even close. You realize you were still holding out hope that you would get back together, that there would be some way to repair the damage, to be happy again. When that hope is crushed, the fragile Jenga tower of your life tumbles down. There should be a word for that kind of defeat.
And there should also be a word for when you’re just so tired of being sad, for when you are tired of being lonely but somehow don’t know how to stop. When you’re tired of crying, tired of thinking about that person, tired of missing them. You can’t yet make yourself recognize all the bad things; remembering how you’ve been done wrong doesn’t help. But the hurt over the good things, the things you still miss so much, is a dull twist in your stomach now, instead of a gaping hole in your chest. You don’t know how to turn that off, don’t remember how to be happy. But you sort of remember happiness as it existed before that person, and you want that so desperately. You want to stop this misery that drags at your ankles and eyes and insides. You know it will take time, but sometimes just the fact of being tired of crying makes you cry. Maybe we could co-opt a word from Japanese for that, since melancholy is a specialty of theirs.
There should be an English word for all these feelings of grief. And I desperately wish they existed now, just so I could tell you, next time you ask, how I’m doing in only four words, instead of all these.
SlutWalks
What is a SlutWalk? Probably the greatest act of Feminism ever. If that's not true, well than it is our generation's Feministic protest. I first came across SlutWalks researching a paper for my journalism class. A paper I was dreading turned out to be my favorite paper of the year. That of course was because of what I was researching. SlutWalks were a result of a Toronto police officer telling college students women would not get raped if they did not dress like sluts. What? That is absolutely absurd. I do believe in being classy and following the old rule - you only show one thing, legs, cleavage, back or arms, but this guy was crazy! Can you say male chauvinism and double standard? It all goes back to how men can hook up with anyone they want or as many women as they want but if a woman does that she is a whore. Or if we were in the '60s, as the new season of American Horror Story illustrates, men could like sex but if women did they were nymphomaniacs and institutionalized. It is incredible how things have not changed. Despite all women have contributed to society we still are not allowed to be sexual beings, we are still inferior.
SlutWalks exist to show that no matter what women wear they are still at risk for sexual violence. During the walks it is not unusual to see one woman in lingerie and the woman next to her in sweatpants. Women hold signs up that say, “Don’t tell us how to dress. Tell men not to rape.” and “It was Christmas day. I was 14 and raped in a stairwell wearing snowshoes and layers. Did I deserve it too?” The fight against sexual violence needs to take a different route. Instead of making the victims into criminals for expressing themselves, media outlets and society need to look at how we raise our young men. It is not only apparent in houses of poverty or houses without fathers but also in wealthy families with fathers. We all remember Duke's Lacrosse team, right? What happened to respect? It is things like this that make me wish I grew up in the 1920s or 1940s. I know it wasn't all peachy-keen during that time either but it was an era of respect - at least in my idealized picture of that time. All the cute old men who call women darling and sweetheart need to teach men of our generation how to treat a lady. And women need to learn how to be ladies. Oh that was a rant - back to the slut walks...
There was controversy over the title but one of the founders Heather Jarvis makes it clear it was intentional - "We called ourselves something controversial, did we do it to get attention? Damn right we did...It’s easy to forget that change starts with anger, and that history has always been made by badasses.” So I don't know about you but when the SlutWalk comes to my city during April, which is sexual violence awareness month if you did not know, I will be there! Because in the words or Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, "Well-behaved women seldom make history!"
Click to find out more about SlutWalks:
SlutWalks exist to show that no matter what women wear they are still at risk for sexual violence. During the walks it is not unusual to see one woman in lingerie and the woman next to her in sweatpants. Women hold signs up that say, “Don’t tell us how to dress. Tell men not to rape.” and “It was Christmas day. I was 14 and raped in a stairwell wearing snowshoes and layers. Did I deserve it too?” The fight against sexual violence needs to take a different route. Instead of making the victims into criminals for expressing themselves, media outlets and society need to look at how we raise our young men. It is not only apparent in houses of poverty or houses without fathers but also in wealthy families with fathers. We all remember Duke's Lacrosse team, right? What happened to respect? It is things like this that make me wish I grew up in the 1920s or 1940s. I know it wasn't all peachy-keen during that time either but it was an era of respect - at least in my idealized picture of that time. All the cute old men who call women darling and sweetheart need to teach men of our generation how to treat a lady. And women need to learn how to be ladies. Oh that was a rant - back to the slut walks...
There was controversy over the title but one of the founders Heather Jarvis makes it clear it was intentional - "We called ourselves something controversial, did we do it to get attention? Damn right we did...It’s easy to forget that change starts with anger, and that history has always been made by badasses.” So I don't know about you but when the SlutWalk comes to my city during April, which is sexual violence awareness month if you did not know, I will be there! Because in the words or Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, "Well-behaved women seldom make history!"
Click to find out more about SlutWalks:
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Guess I should explain myself?
How do you begin a blog? For me, this is a bit strange. I have a million things running through my head at this exact moment, which for me is not at all that strange. Have you ever had so much to say you don't know where to begin? That's pretty much what is going on right now. I guess I can start with my title: Here's to the crazy ones. If you haven't caught on by now, I am one of those crazy ones and proud of it. It seems like all the best people were and are completely out of their minds, well that's how people who don't get us describe it. Personally, I am never truly understood, that was until I met the three most crazy and wise teachers oh plus my guidance counselor. Ops... he said never to call him that but I can't remember what I was suppose to say. Have you ever met a person who, instantly, you knew understood you? Well they are the four people I never had to explain myself to, and if I did, they got it immediately. My inspiration for the title comes from them. My friend, knowing exactly who I am, pointed the following poem out on one of their boards, and since then I fell in love with it.
Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The trouble makers. The round heads in he square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules and they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. The only thing you can't do is ignore them, because they change things. They push the human race forward and while some may see them as the crazy ones we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do!
So here's to the crazy ones! Since this is a blog, I guess I shouldn't reveal exactly everything about me. Just to start here are a few essential things you need to know.
1. I hate grammar and do not believe it has a point, as long as you get your message across, so if you are a little OCD about that I would suggest not reading this or be patient. I will do my best to be grammatically correct and fix typos as fast as I can, since journalism requires you to be grammatically correct. Which brings me to number...
2. I tend to be brutally honest and say what I think without filtering. So I apologize in advance if I offend anyone - that is not my intent
3. I go on random rants - so expect that here. I don't know exactly when I will have new posts, it will depend on many different factors. For now just think of it as a surprise because it will be as random as me, that is until I hit my stride.
4. If nothing else this blog will serve to illustrate just how passionate and intense I am. And when I say intense I mean INTENSE. Maybe it's something you have to experience in person, but pretty much every friend I have and everyone who knows me would agree that I am possibly the most intense person they have every met- it get scary at times.
And finally I am completely and utterly obsessed with quotes. I believe quotes are a way to gain wisdom from those who have lived before you. They are a way to know you are not alone and if there is one person who thinks exactly like you or is able to put into words how you feel or an experience you went through, it is an impossibility that you are truly alone.
So, hey if you want to join me on this insane roller coaster, read on. But I'm warning you, I don't even know where this is going to go. For now I leave you with what will be my signature, a quote. This one gives you another glimpse into who your writer is. "Quiet people have the loudest minds. " - Stephen Hawking.
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