Manta Ray: September 2006

Letter

Dear Moses,
You won't remember me because if you get this letter, that means I'm dead. You only knew me for the first year or so of your life, and I didn't always like you this much. In fact, I didn't like you much at all in the very beginning.
But when you started getting a personality, I liked you almost at once. That's because you're beautiful, and you're sweet, and smart, and you'd better believe me because I'm dead, which means I know everything.
Moses, I know you are going to do great things with your life, and that is why I'm writing this to you. I'm going to charge you with the task of changing the world completely. And changing it for the better.
Whatever this means to you.
You might be planning on doing this already, but so was I. Sometimes people just don't get around to those sorts of things, but a charge from a dead person can be pretty weighty, so I'm mainly just hoping that his letter will motivate you.
That's all, really. Good luck. I'll help you if I can.

Eva

Arms of the Angel

Dear reader,
I'm not sure if you know me. I'm not sure if you ever will. The heart monitors keep flashing, my oxygen machine trying to keep my lungs pumping. All I see is white, flickers of colors clouding my vision. The docors keep whispering, the nurses looking at me, and giving a pitying smile. It's the type of smile that your mom gives when your gold fish dies. The look that reads, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that fish like you did, but we'll find another one. A better one."
I've said things to people in the past. I've done things I'd rather forget. I try and love everyone; I've known people who can do that. I can't do it, though. I have too many feelings; too many swallowed words to love everyone. There are so many things I wish I had done. I never made a mark on the world; my passing will mean nothing. Family and friends will miss me, but they'll recover. Is it selfish to hope that my leaving will cause someone to feel as much of a loss as I wish they would? Is it alright to finally not wory about others? Is it ever okay to shut down, and have a small flicker of desire that someone will feel such a tremendous loss that they might want to search for me?
There are so many things in my life that I wish I had done. I had so many plans. I was going to travel to Paris, and become a chef. I was going to adopt teenagers from orphanges, even though they aren't as cute or innocent as babies. I was going to at least graduate from High School. I was at least going to go to Prom; have a boyfriend . . . first kiss.
People are always complaining how unfair life is. Karma isn't real. Good stuff rarely circles back. How else could you explain this? How else could you justify people dying who haven't even reached their mid-life crisis?
I'd like to apologize for the words that I've said. I'd like to apologize for the people I've hurt. Although I don't think it's very many, I want to be certain of something at this time.
Even though I've never met you, and it's possible I'll leave without you knowing this, life really is simple. Love everyone. Don't waste your time being angry or upset at people. Never let the sun set with a heavy heart.
So long, fair well, adeu.

<3

Ragtime

Daddy played piano,
Played it very well.
Music from those hands could
Catch you like a spell.
He could make you love him
'Fore the tune was done.
You have your daddy's hands.
You are your daddy's son.

Ooh...

Daddy never knew
That you were on your way.

He had other ladies
And other tunes to play.
When he up and left me,
I just up and run.

Only thing in my head-
You were your daddy's son.

Couldn't hear no music,
Couldn't see no light.
Mama, she was frightened,
Crazy from the fright.
Tears without no comfort,
Screams without no sound.
Only darkness and pain,
The anger and pain,
The blood and the pain!
I buried my heart in the ground!
In the ground-
When I buried you in the ground.

Daddy played piano.
Bet he's playin' still.
Mama can't forget him.
Don't suppose I will.
God wants no excuses.
I have only one:
You had your daddy's hands.
Forgive me.
You were your daddy's son.

Proposal form

I am doing an (Emergence, Origin, Trickster) Tale.

. . .

Give a summary of the story you are planning on writing/adapting.

. . .

What style is the story in originally (if you are adapting)?

. . .

What style will the story be in when you are done?

. . .

How are you planning on presenting the story, and why?

. . .

How does this story explain phenomena, cultural identity, etc.?

. . .

How will your project reflect an understanding of Native American oral tradition?

Oklahoma, OK!

We were drawing self portraits for the first day of school, and the friendly girl next to me kept asking me for strange objects like pins and crowns (pens and crayons). The vernacular wasn't the only thing I didn't get there, though.
The first day of school happened to be the day of the first football game for OU Sooners, Superbowl champs for 5 years in a row, so at lunch the principal came in and led us in a cheer.
"You be boomer," he said, indicating the side of the room I was sitting on, "And you be Sooner. Loudest side gets free dessert. One, two, three, go!"
He pointed to my side and everyone stood up and shouted boooooooomer! (stomp stomp), then he pointed to the other side-- Sooooner (stomp stomp).
This repeated more times than I thought could possibly be entertaining, but I started yelling with the boomers. I figured I wouldn't mind a free dessert too much.
They had other strange traditions in Norman, OK. Everyone in the school was bonded by distain for OSU, even though half of the student's parents were alumnists, and some of them (like my mom) worked there, or were going there at that time. They would tell jokes at assemblies about the difference between OU and OSU, and at the beginning of the day, after the national anthem, they would play a patriotic rip off of "Who let the dogs out " (Whooo let the Sooners out? Who, Who-who-who-who, Whooo let the Sooners out?, etc.)

I suppose these traditions were a little like Native American chants and rituals, at risk of sounding. . . insensitive or something, but the games were regular, so we had certain times that we would do the chants and the songs, and it did help with community bonding. Also, everyone participated in those sorts of things, which is something we didn't have so much in the Seattle culture. People were a bit uptight in Seattle, but everyone in OK was laid back and none were afraid to perform, even if that meant making fools of themselves. Which is something I imagine Native Americans might have more in their culture.

Foriegn situation

Lone Peak to Walden was one of the most drastic changes in situations I've ever witnessed. The changes in social settings, going from one of the cliquest schools to just being a person; it was like a total frontal lobotomy. I had to change my thought proccess from "Do anything to fit in," to "Who am I really?" I've had to change myself too often in the past, that remembering who I am, and being that person seems . . . warped. Everyone is different, and seems for the most part to know who they are. Instead of being decked out in designer threads, I see people in cheesy 80's prom dresses. Instead of kids driving 06 lexuses, and brand new BMW convertibles, kids ride the bus, or have parents come and pick them up. Re-wiring my brain to go from Perfect Lone Peak to Be Yourself Walden has been one of the most scary, confusing, utterly amazing experience I've had.

I suppose I could compare myself with Poccahantas, seeing as she traveled to a "new world" and witnessed "new and amazing things". Luckily, I have yet to be exiled from my family, married a 43-year-old british man, or died of small pox. I'll try and avoid those things in the future. Shall we stay with new and exciting experiences? Yes? Good.

<3

Musicals!

I think that as part of Literature, we should read/watch/listen to musicals. As we're talking about poetry, and rythm, I keep thinking about how insane it is that a person can write an entire story in lyrical format, have music written to it, and not loose the meaning to their words. Like, Les Mis was first in French, but someone translated it into English, and it's one of the best-known musicals around, aside from Cats! maybe.
Just a side thought, really. I was just thinking about it, since I have a song from Ragtime stuck in my head.

Toodles.

a love story

I thought that was primarily a love story. I remember thinking, during the final scenes when Pocohantas decided that she was over John Smith and into John Rolfe, he being a man of integrity and the father of her child, "Wow! This is just a regular Hollywood movie!" Despite the poetic cinematography, the voice-overs, the authentic sets and lighting and all of the historically accurate details, I found the movie to be quite conventional at heart. Do y'all agree?

Prejudice

I think that the movie was mainly about prejudice. The men in the Virginia company had a certain idea of who John Smith was, and what his relationship to them was. He was a mutineer-- a betrayer, and they will only side with him when it is advantageous to them. And the nature of the relationship never changes.
Likewise, John Smith's relationship with Pocahontas was based on the fact that she saved his life, but no matter what she's still a woman, and a savage, at some level, and he knows what's best for her.
And then there's the relationship Pocahontas has with her father. She is his golden child, and when she steps out of that role, when she can't or won't put her people before herself, rather than face the fact that she is not who he knows she is, he kills her, essentially. He disowns her, and pretends she never existed, then lets her be traded for a copper kettle.

That was deep, huh?

Pessimism makes the World go Round

Maybe I was just in a bad mood when I watched the movie, but I really didn't enjoy it. It was what my mum would call a broken novel. It followed the story of Pocohantas well, depicting the story of her doomed love with John Rofle, the banashment from her father and village, and how the colonies first suffered that year.
However, you have to be in the mood to watch a movie about doomed love, ignorance, and betrayl. I kept thinking of Romeo and Juliet, throughout the entire movie. Pocohantas falls in love with John Smith, they get secretly married, and then he leaves her without telling her. She's told he's dead, so she agrees to marry John Rolfe, even though she knows she doesn't love him. He informs her that in time she'll grow to love him, so they tie the knot. She finds out that John Smith is actually alive, she freaks out, tells Rofle they can't be together, meets with Smith, realizes she actually really does love Rolfe, and then she dies, roll credits.
As far as historical films go, they did a good job capturing the story of Pocohantas. As far as the story itself goes, I didn't enjoy it as much. Life has enough sadness in it, that watching a two and a half long movie about how doomed life is just really doesn't appeal to me.

The New World Response

Some questions from Mark:

What is it? A love story? A hate story? A race story? A political story?

What do the different characters and places represent: John Smith, Pocohantas, John Rolfe, King Powahatan, Captain Newport, the fort, the "Naturals'" village, England, the boat, etc.?

What motifs did you notice, for instance, water, trees, John Smith in a field of grass, and what did they signify to you?

Blarg

Right. Well, this is a free-style poem I came up with during our "solo time" from the walk about. It's rather emo, but it helped me sort some stuff out. Please feel free to comment on it!

"Four years came and went, realization only hitting now.
16 years passed, and always the sister, always the friend.
Every detail changed, altered, tweaked.
Hundreds of dollars of make-up, hair-care, skin-care, and still not good enough.
Given-up hobbies, preferences, ideas.
Still not good enough.
Wasted hours, weeks, years.
Sifted, recycled time, minute here, moment there.
Sick. Sick to body, mind, soul.
Wasted.
New clothes, old clothes, something must please.
Anything.
Ignored days, talks, time.
Changed humor, personality, diet.
Good enough yet?
Didn't think so.
High school pressure, home and church.
Wanting so badly for acceptance, needing some reason to stay.
Sick.
Kidneys, fevers, gallbladder, stress.
So sick.
No visits, no calls, no word.
Prom came and went.
And yet no call.
Hospital; blood drawn, tested and tested again.
No call.
More make-up, more things to cover up.
Suffocated, can't breathe.
Too many things smothering, hiding.
Never good enough."

Mononucleosis

Seems to be the trend lately.

Snips and Snails, and Puppy Dog Tails

Dance, magic, dance!

Quiz!

Just a reminder that we have a reading quiz over Day 2 and Day three reading packets. Please study and bring your packets to class. Let me know if you have questions!