I wonder if it’s safe to say that every culture struggles with its own establishment of physical ideals. In The Bluest Eye, the ideal is associated with white culture, thus keeping all minorities outside of what is considered desirable. But I feel that at some point we all feel that alienation, regardless of our race. I think this point comes along most frequently during adolescence and that this, possibly even above racism, is a central conflict of Morrison’s novel. The specific example illustrated so strikingly by Morrison is just an extreme case of the implications of culturally manufactured physical ideals. These implications go deeper than a simple feeling of inadequacy or envy- they reach all the way into self-hatred and even the projection of that hatred onto others. These feelings generally stem from the experiences of adolescence, as that is a vulnerable time for anyone, when extreme pressure is applied both from within a family structure and within a society.
We can all relate at some level to the “fear of being rejected because of our appearance, abandoned by the group, left homeless (Bump, p.334).” These feelings arise in our younger years because our relationships, our ties to the larger world, are tentative and only beginning to emerge. Without the security of an encouraging family or teacher, it is easy to be consumed by self-doubt. Especially when the role models around you are also plagued by insecurities – financial, marital, societal – it is difficult to be hopeful about your future development. Rather, these perceived shortcomings come to define people, as is the case of the Breedloves. Each member of the family has their own story of self-doubt and displacement, culminating in a group identity of inadequacy. Pauline is especially affected by the societal ideal of beauty, engrossing herself in films to escape her own physical reality and feelings of constant longing. She equates her unsatisfied romantic dreams with her unsatisfying appearance thusly: “Both originated in envy, thrived in insecurity, and ended in disillusion. In equating physical beauty with virtue, she stripped her mind, bound it, and collected self-contempt by the heap (Morrison, p.122).” The pervasive culture that affects all of us is almost guaranteed – designed – to create feelings of envy and longing. Perhaps this is a phenomenon unique to our society and others similar to it, as the aim of a capitalist system is to encourage consumers to buy into the culture. Without the commodification of beauty, of social status, perhaps these feelings of inadequacy would not be so universal.
Ads like thiscreate a standard of beauty that consumers want to buy into. source: http://www.shoppingblog.com/pics/dolce_makeup_ad1.gif
Morrison really captures the full spectrum of emotions and behaviors associated with these insecurities. In the extreme case of the deep-seated racism in the novel, there is nowhere to hide from society’s disapproval. The negative connotation associated with dark skin was so engrained in society that even African Americans, and sometimes them worst of all, associated their skin color and physical appearance with an inescapable inadequacy. Some, like Maureen and Geraldine, try to mask it through dress and obsessive cleanliness. Others, such as the taunting boys who “seemed to have taken all of their smoothly cultivated ignorance, their exquisitely learned self-hatred, their elaborately designed hopelessness and sucked it all up into a fiery cone of scorn (Morrison, p.65),” lash out against those with similar traits. For Claudia and Pecola, however, it is just a constant question – why them? Why not me? It is frustration – perhaps the first signs of a break in the cycle. Claudia does not accept or understand the sovereignty of Shirley Temple. Pecola believes her problems would be solved if she only had blue eyes. Two very different attitudes, but both speaking for the shallow and arbitrary nature of the cultural ideal.
Shirley Temple, the source of Claudia's insecurity source: http://www.breakingthetape.com/keeping-pace/Shirley%20Temple.bmp
As obviously shallow and distorted as these constructs are – in the case of The Bluest Eye being dictated by decades of racism and discrimination against blacks – we are still so affected by them. We have all felt the drop in the pits of our stomachs when faced with the “seeming helplessness in the grip of fears generated by judging ourselves and others by appearance (Bump, p.333).” It is a vicious cycle of unattainable standards and arbitrary preferences. Pecola cannot make herself have blue eyes. Pauline cannot put her foot back to normal. I cannot make myself grow five inches. In a sense this powerlessness to ascribe to a standard that has been imposed upon you is the most destructive feeling of all. A task that seems so effortless in the movies, that seems so natural among the affluent, the task of being desirable, of being attractive, is incredibly hard to attain based on society’s standards. And with this powerlessness comes fear – the fear of rejection, the fear, reaching back to the beginning of the novel, of being “put outside”. And when those people who should form a community of likeness and support – families, cultural groups, neighbors – reject their own, then that fear becomes very real and very damaging.
The blue eyes that Pecola can never have. source: http://www.chrisdellavedova.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/blueeyes.jpg
Family is something everyone can relate to. Whether your family was a large part of your life or if they were essentially nonexistent, from the very act of your creation they define who you are and in many ways, who you have the ability to become. I think struggles related to the family transcend race, class, and location. Abuse can exist in the most affluent homes, and harmony can exist in squalor. Family dynamics constantly shift as children grow, new relationships form and disintegrate, loved ones pass away, and members are forced to question – who are these people that define me?
We cannot control the family we are born into, and thus we must sacrifice much of our autonomy right from the start. Some people, depending on their family situation, carry this sacrifice with them their whole lives, never able to transcend the barriers put on them by the simple fact of their birth. In Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye, the Breedloves represent this predicament. The narrator describes their relationship thusly, “from the tiny impressions gleaned from one another, they created a sense of belonging and tried to make do with the way they found each other (p.34).” Their whole existence has been defined by the chance interaction of two people on two nights, of four people in one place, and two sets of genes pitted against one another like a dueling couple. There can be no joy in this life of bitter resignation. They belonged to a group they resented, they made do with abuse and hatred.
But they, like anyone seemingly trapped in a negative family situation, had options. As we see in the novel, “a family of choice can be and often is healthier than a family of blood (Bump, 350).” When the Breedlove’s shallow excuse for a family implodes, Pecola has the opportunity to join a new family and thus separate herself from the negative self-image her biological family forced upon her.
Claudia’s family, while not perfect, is far from the tempest of Pecola’s. Still, Claudia struggles with her own identity much as Pecola does, confused as to where she fits not only within a family of individuals, but in a world full of diversity. This confusion often leads to self-doubt and deprecation. Whereas Pecola internalizes her struggles and seeks to disappear, Claudia lashes out against the world and tries to assert her identity. As Professor Bump states, “Claudia is able to keep her sanity partly because… she has a tendency to get angry at the other and defend herself rather than to turn inward and sink into depression (Bump, 354).” But even this anger challenges Claudia, as she realizes it is misdirected and shallow. In the case of her treatment of dolls, and by extension white girls, Claudia analyzes her behavior with a sense of regret:“when I learned how repulsive this disinterested violence was… my shame floundered about for refuge. The best hiding place was love. Thus the conversion from pristine sadism to fabricated hatred, to fraudulent love (p.23).” This fraudulent love can be just as damaging to someone as external violence, especially in a family environment. Our families are the easiest group in our lives to resent, as we had no responsibility in assigning them. When we put on a mask of false love to cover up a bitter sense of anonymity, we create a shallow framework for a family that will never grow, only shudder under the weight of building resentment. Claudia’s realization about her relationship with the doll foreshadows her feelings about the role she plays in her family: “the change was adjustment without improvement (p.23).”
From as much of this book as I’ve read so far, it seems that a major theme is the inability to ever truly escape from the family you’re born into. I am curious to see how Pecola gets sucked back into the severe dysfunction of the Breedloves, and also how Claudia reconciles herself to her place in a large and assertive family. It is interesting to once again think of family from the perspective of a child who is still so trapped in that world, now being so separate from my own family. Being the youngest of four very independent siblings, I can relate to the identity crisis caused by being part of any family, no matter the level of functionality.
Native American culture is something we cannot forget about our history. We cannot separate the economic and political systems of today from those that caused the slaughter and destruction of an opposing system. Our ideas of human rights may be more advanced, but the materialism and greed that defines us as a capitalist society is the root cause of acts of injustice against Native Americans. Our best chance at reconciling our current culture with the one it nearly destroyed is to attempt to understand and immerse ourselves in the rituals, experiences, and way of life of the American Indians. Perhaps by doing this, we will identify aspects of their culture that better serve a society committed to "liberty and justice for all," as well as behavior that promotes a sustainable world.
Native American drumming and chanting rituals serve to unite the community in the act of worship. But even greater than that, the music created mirrors the harmony and rhythm of the culture itself, drawing from primal beats and a trance inducing tapestry of sound. I think maybe during this class, instead of trying to imitate recordings of Native American drummers, we should try to create our own sense of unity through a sound that represents us as a group.
Now let's analyze the different reactions to this kind of experiential immersion into the culture versus reading a translated account of the culture by one of its members.
What did you gain from Black Elk's story?
One of my problems with Black Elk Speaks is my inability to discern reality from the narrator’s “visions.”
I know that this account of a Native American ritual is supposed to give me a greater appreciation for a culture different from my own, but how can I appreciate something that to me sounds like empty words?
-molly
Because of the history of Native American subjugation, Black Elk's testimony is therefore that more fascinating and important. It is not often that we hear about the Native's viewpoint about incidents like Wounded Knee
-jose
What did you think the story was about?
when I read this story, I didn't feel like it was about failure.
What I felt, instead, was this deep, aching sense of loss.
I felt that Black Elk, with the death of his peoples dream, was losing his place in the world, and he was going to have to relocate, to find a new place, and the only way he was going to be able to do this was if he confronted what he felt was his failure and transformed it into something that would bring good things to the world, whether they were the good things he was originally aiming for or not
- lauren
This was a powerful message to me that there are important lessons to learn in suffering and that regardless of our circumstances we always have the potential to laugh or cry.
-katherine
How was Black Elk as a leader?
He is chosen to be the leader, to accomplish the destiny for his people. Spirits call to him with a“sacred voice,” emphasizing his important role in this greater plan for his people (xxi).
-jade
To be honest I felt a little betrayed by Black Elk. He had set himself up as a redeeming, heroic figure.
I felt that his final sentences, his lifelong reaction to the events that he had witnessed, were complete and total contradictions to all that he had said before.
-katherine
how far can spiritual confidence and affirmation through hallucinations really get you? I feel like Black Elk overhyped his initial gift of power and used it too frivolously.
- alice
When it seems as though the power of the cosmos is driving you forward, then nothing is impossible, no bar is too high, and greatness transforms into a trivial trait.
- sharad
How does this relate to your leadership vision?
Unlike Black Elk, I do not perceive my vision as fulfilling a destiny, but rather accomplishing my passions
-jade
As we prepare ourselves to be leaders, I think that we should keep in mind the trials leadership brings and develop an indomitable mindset, ready to tackle any task
-katherine
While Black Elk’s story relates to my leadership vision, his experiences also remind me of my totem animal quest.
- helen
What is your general reaction to the story?
I cannot for a second believe that the white men responsible for these killings viewed Native Americans as equal, or maybe not even as true people.
-jose
The Native Americans did not have the technological innovation to stand up to the United State’s armies which ultimately led to their defeat, but the Sioux people understood an important concept that we so often talk about in class: unity.
They understood that land can’t truly be owned by any one person. They understood that all living and natural forces are in some manner sacred.
- chris
I realize they faced extreme hardship, but this is generally when a culture reaffirms their faith in the power of their spirituality and rituals
- alice
Power, in these situations, just means the failure to understand each other and the constant desire to hold the upper card.
They have a beautiful connection with nature and live in harmony, but they lose this sense of innocence because of what is brought to them.
- emily
Obviously, stories aren't the only things that make life circular. But I feel like they're a big part of the circle. And I also feel like they help point out to us the other parts of life that are circular.
-lauren
How does the story, and Native American culture, relate to our topic of diversity?
when we attempted to recreate Native American music by listening and mimicking its sounds, I feel that we just glossed over another important aspect of the culture. We never learned what the music we made meant, or what purpose it served in the culture, only to imitate it in sound and hope that it made us more cultured.
I think context, drawing comparisons, and finding common ground are important aspects of learning about other cultures. If the true goal of diversity is not only acceptance, but understanding, simply reading about rituals and mimicking practices isn’t enough.
- molly
What aspects of Native American culture do you think we should incorporate into our current culture?
Black Elk introduces us to the Native American idea of power, an internal force that comes with specific instructions and limitations for its use. I thought this was an interesting aspect of their culture that is not often discussed. Because tribes operate as communal systems, although there is a hierarchical order, power is not connected with material wealth, but rather a force of spirit. Power, in this sense, is a quality of being, an aura so to speak. The ritualistic way Black Elk taps into this power reaffirms the importance of community and heritage to the native Americans, as it is his six grandfathers that guide him to his new spiritual knowledge.
A Native American circle of power. source: http://www.firstpeople.us/native-american-art-for-sale/kirby-sattler/pt/circle-of-power.jpg
Another interesting source of power, and the recognition of power, is the imagery of the vision itself. Black Elk says, “a man who has a vision is not able to use the power of it until after he has performed the vision on earth for the people to see (p. 28).” This means that the inner journey is not enough to command the kind of spirit strength it provides. Rather power is only begotten by public display and approval. This is somewhat similar to the American political race, which I find ironic, in that politicians must prove themselves as charismatic leaders with a patriotic and dramatic background, not unlike the vision quests Black Elk must relate to his people.
But what is the substance of this power? Black Elk regarded it as a calling, a tool to be used to help his people. But how far can spiritual confidence and affirmation through hallucinations really get you? I feel like Black Elk overhyped his initial gift of power and used it too frivolously. He was able to rally his people around him for a time, but when the memory of his vision faded, when the new generations looked for substance and action, he could not deliver. I think perhaps this made his defeat even more bitter. A power he built upon his spiritual belief was not sufficient to save his people. I know he says, “It was the nation that was dying, and the vision was for the nation; but I have done nothing with it (21),” but I think what he realizes is that the vision was never sufficient, despite how he used it. The reality was that a leadership based on messages from an alternate, spiritual reality could not guide the native American people through their hardship. But as a true spiritual messenger, Black Elk blames himself for his failure, instead of questioning the belief system that was unable to empower its people to the point of survival.
What I don’t understand is why exactly this power was so easily diluted. Black Elk makes a strong statement when he says, “everything an Indian does is in a circle, and that is because the Power of the World always works in circles, and everything tries to be round. In the old days when we were a strong and happy people, all our power came to us from the sacred hoop of the nation, and so long as the hoop was unbroken, the people flourished (26).” I feel like this is a very empowering attitude, and if the Native Americans were truly attuned to it, I don’t understand why he would be so quick to proclaim the “sacred hoop” broken. I realize they faced extreme hardship, but this is generally when a culture reaffirms their faith in the power of their spirituality and rituals.
The end of this selection brought home the tragedy that occurred among the native American people. When Black Elk says, “And I can see that something else died there in the bloody mud, and was buried in the blizzard. A people's dream died there. It was a beautiful dream. And I, to whom so great a vision was given in my youth, - you see me now a pitiful old man who has done nothing, for the nation's hoop is broken and scattered. There is no center any longer (p. 35),” you can feel his defeat, his shame, and his sorrow. The native American people will never be able to forget this injustice, and that sense of sorrow will continue to define their tradition no matter its positive roots. Their power has shifted to become more morose. The visual tradition remains and the importance of oral story telling and the relating of spiritual quests. But it is scarred by a lost sovereignty, a lost power that can never be regained. I think Black Elk’s words, “You have noticed that the truth comes into this world with two faces. One is sad with suffering, and the other laughs; but it is the same face, laughing or weeping. When people are already in despair, maybe the laughing face is better for them; and when they feel too good and are too sure of being safe, maybe the weeping face is better for them to see (p. 25),” are very poignant considering the fate of his people. It is a stoic power they still posses, that Black Elk’s words posses, that maintains the beauty and majesty of native American culture.
I would like to know more about the context of Black Elk Speaks. Is there a continuous narrative going on, organized in a coherent manner? I know it is supposed to be the narration of Black Elk’s life, but so much is missing from the selection that I find it easy to miss the point. Perhaps at the time it was just meant as a cultural expose to introduce people to a then unknown way of life. But now, Native American culture has been so popularized by movies such as Pocahontas and Avatar that reading something like this is not especially striking to me. I know both movies are complete facsimiles of the true culture and struggles of Native Americans, but from what I’ve read here, they give me the same main ideas.
Pocahontas may not accurately illustrate Native American culture. source: http://redsonika.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/pocahontas.jpg
Native Americans have a profound respect for place, akin to that of many eastern religions. I wonder what it is that makes these ancient religions so focused on unity, on worldly power and divine knowledge. I do not get the same feeling from western religion, that divinity exists all around us, that it is a natural power source to be tapped into. What do Native American and eastern cultures have in common? When Black Elk describes himself “standing on the highest mountain of them all, and round about beneath me was the whole hoop of the world. And while I stood there I saw more than I can tell and I understood more than I saw; for I was seeing in a sacred manner the shapes of all things in the spirit, and the shape of all shapes as they must live together like one being (x),” I am reminded of Siddhartha’s enlightened state, and the oft mentioned state of higher awareness of spatial realities in eastern culture.
Another similarity I see with eastern spirituality is the emphasis on compassion for all creatures, and on the maintenance of a balance between man and animal, almost a karmic responsibility to give as much as one takes. When Black Elk says, “I felt sorry that we had killed these animals and thought that we ought to do something in return (xi),” he is showing his appreciation of all life and of the subtleties of human/animal interaction. He believes in atonement. And that is exactly what his father offers him when he says, “To all the wild things that eat flesh, this I have offered that my people may live and the children grow up with plenty (xi).” They understand that existing in the natural world requires a reciprocal relationship with the environment. If you take, you must give back. If you want to survive, you must not over-consume.
Native American tribes created no waste in building teepees. source: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpJA6B7kXyC1Vk5oykSFbFhFP_61ji1NQe_e9QynDI123H__J3LlWVDb6sKLZ56eW6KWhWg4XNrGAR51ykg4zEcSg1vjQeF0g85WVw04WHARPD4KfOMEZvs4fdKhhrZJhYW8Xfemeh0xc/s400/teepee400.jpg
I believe this to be the greatest lesson we could glean from Native American culture. They are extremely wise in the art of sustainability. Their craft is based on recycling and the creative use of materials, their community structure based on sharing and conservation. This attitude stems from a greater understanding of the unity of all life on earth, an understanding shared by Siddhartha. When we become aware of this interconnectedness, we can see the implications of our actions far into the future and thus structure them to better mitigate destruction.
In my first ever discussion board entry for this class I asked myself the question, “what am I doing here?”. I’m still not sure I know. I’ve been through so many majors, so many career plans, student organizations, social groups, and emotional states – the only thing I know for sure is that things change here, all the time, unpredictably. Midway through my second semester, my feet are dragging. All the fleeting interests, the four-year plans, the missed (and taken) opportunities have piled up behind me, and I’m dragging them along too, like shackles across the penitentiary yard of early adulthood. At first this was the quest that allured me most about college – the freedom to change my mind, the ease at which I could shift interests. But the clock is ticking now, and I can’t move fast enough while carrying this ball and chain.
Now is the time to sift through the silt of these past endeavors and find something golden. I’m sure its no coincidence that this cumulative essay is due right before we determine our next steps in academia. I’m grateful for this timing, as I have been for all of the questions I’ve been made to answer in this class. My answers may no longer be true, but the questions remain, and they help shape much of my decision-making. So I look towards them now to help me make my last decision for this class – what goal will define my leadership vision? With this train of thought I’ll actually be answering two questions, not only what my goal is, but what’s stopping me from reaching that goal. The latter I’ve already introduced – my chronic indecisiveness.
I know I want to be a leader, it feels almost like a biological imperative. I know I assume leadership roles naturally. I know I’ve been generally effective as a leader. But I don’t know what I’m leading towards in my own life. I have the ability to forge any path ahead of me; all I have to do is choose one. But I’m stuck, looking back across past interests, past passions and causes, and seeing how easily they blew through my life plan. And I see future interests, current interests even, blowing through just as easily. It’s a windy plain of indecision – thousands of viable stalks bent out of shape by the currents of life, of distractions, of constant thought – never to flower or come to fruition.
The only way to attack my indecisiveness is through constant questioning. That’s an invaluable lesson I’ve learned in college. I’ve never been hesitant to question the world around me, but I’ve been under the illusion for quite some time that there are no questions left to ask myself. But honestly, those are the ones that matter most. Until now I’ve always thought opportunity would come to me, that circumstance would shape my future, and that I would simply adapt to change as it occurred around me naturally. But when faced with questions such as “who are you?”, “wh
at’s your passion?”, and “what is your leadership vision?”, I must be the one to take an active role in my own life, I have to make the decisions, I have to make my own answers. This reminds me of the famous Gandhi quote, “be the change you want to see in the world.” I could talk for days about my solutions to the world’s problems, to my new ideas and intricate visions, but what have I done about any of it? I’ve put very little into action. I am a passive observer of my own life. This is an extremely odd revelation coming from a complete control freak and infamous micromanager.
So what’s the problem? I’m often overwhelmed by the combination of infinite potential and limited time. I truly believe that any accomplishment is possible. What I can’t reconcile myself with is that all accomplishments are not possible, at least not within a human lifetime (as the current human lifetime stands at least, but I won’t get into that). So I’m left with a choice to make. A decision for the indecisive.
It would be very easy for me to outline my future. In fact, I could create infinitely many versions of it, including every detail. Its not the action plan that’s the problem, it’s the action. I would feel dishonest simply describing one of many hypothetical “leadership visions”, knowing it’s unlikely to become reality or even keep my interest for more than a semester. This flightiness is my deepest problem. Until I know for sure what path I want to take, I am extremely hesitant to do anything on that path. But I’ll never know if a path is right unless I start on it. I’m not a fan of retracing my steps, of moving back to the beginning. My stagnancy is caused by fear – a fear of failure, a fear of lost time, wasted potential. I suppose to sum it up, I’m frozen by my fear of death – my fear of the limited time frame I have to accomplish something.
But as we’ve been taught, love is more effective than fear. As much as I fear death, I have come to love life. That love is the first step in discovering how I’m going to affect the world, what my life is going to mean when I’m gone.So the first question in determining my leadership vision is easy – what do I love to do? The answer is slightly more complicated. There are so many things I love doing, love learning, love creating. However, being required to take courses outside of my current interests, and finally getting to take courses in them, has helped me narrow it down somewhat. Subjects I used to be interested in, such as neuroscience and Mayan history, have become less attractive to me as I’ve seen the slow pace at which they are taught at the undergraduate level.
Conversely, my required Plan II courses have given me a lot of positive direction so far. World Literature has made me more aware of my role in helping others and doing things for the benefit of society, along with asking questions that have forced me to define myself in the context of this university and the academic experience of college. Plan II biology re-introduced me to conservation ecology and pointed me towards environmental science, which is my current dual-major with Plan II. Perspectives on the Future gave me just that, a perspective from which to analyze what’s going to be most important to our civilization in the near future and what I can do to help. And finally, my freshman tutorial course, pathways to civic engagement, has introduced me to so many creative and feasible ways to affect change in my community and the world at large, which will always be a goal of my leadership vision, regardless of details. That class also introduced me to a field that I had never considered before this semester but that, when viewing my life from my new perspectives on my past and future, makes more sense than any career path I’ve ever considered. That field is urban planning and sustainability.
Urban planning is going to play a huge role in the future of humankind. As populations rise all over the world, more and more people are moving into urban settings. The cities of the past have been built as huge energy consuming scars, concentrating all of the most unsustainable technologies in a high-density area. Also, cities have not been designed to facilitate local resource management, requiring all goods to be imported far distances, generally by truck or freight train. If cities continue to be built this way, we will use up our resources before our unsustainable steel structures collapse. They’ll be the graveyards of human accomplishment.
I am dedicated to making a change in the way people live, in the way they consume, and in the way they view the spaces they occupy. I feel that one of the best ways to do this is to become and urban planner with a background in sustainable design and environmental science. I have already begun taking steps towards this path. I decided to start on the track for the Environmental Science major because I feel like threats to life on earth are the most imminent and serious threat to the life of humans.In my field research class, I realized that I didn’t want to be a pure scientist collecting data, but rather wanted to apply what we already know, and are learning, about how humans interact with their environment. Urban planning combines my passion for the environment with my passion for design and community organizing. Urban planners and designers control the way people move around, how they interact with their environment, and how their environment is sustained. It is a field that is going to require creative, visionary leaders to reach its full potential.
To become one of those leaders I must first commit myself to a career path, something I have always avoided. I must conquer my fear of failure, of dissatisfaction, and simply start. It’s possible I will change my mind in the future, but for now I plant to stay on the track I’ve started on. My first step was adding my environmental science major. Within that major, I will concentrate in geographical studies and take classes that focus on land use and resource management. If that major is not satisfying, I will switch to a major in environmental engineering. I am currently considering adding an additional major or minor in architectural studies to develop the technical skills involved in drafting and designing city plans. This path is going to be truly interdisciplinary, which will go along with the Plan II curriculum well. All of my classes will add insight into the problem of organizing people into places that best serve the environment and thus humanity. A writing component is also necessary, because effective communication will be essential in proposing ideas to city boards and clients. Also, there needs to be community support behind all the changes that are going to be implemented in cities, so communication is again important.
Outside of academia, there are many steps I could take to ensure not only a successful career in urban planning, but also garner support for the way I feel cities need to be built and operated in the future. Most likely, I will start by interning at an architecture firm over a summer, which I would arrange through my father who is a prominent architect in Dallas. He has already connected me with some landscape architects and urban designers in Austin, and I might be working with one on a research project this semester. I also need to start developing my creative vision more seriously. I see the cities of the future functioning like trees – self-sustaining, evolving, efficiently designed closed systems that give back to the environment as they support human life and happiness. This requires an intersection of innovative technology, creative resource management, a deep understanding of sociology, and an artistic aesthetic vision. Because of this, my education is going to last a long time. At some point, however, I will make the shift from institutional education to real-world experience.
There are multiple options I have for getting started in the field of urban planning and sustainable design. I could go into architecture and work for a private firm. I could be a publicly employed city planner. Or, I could go into the non-profit field and promote change from the roots up. I feel like I am best suited for the last option, as it would allow me more freedom in my work and the opportunity to be my own boss. I don’t work well as an employee – I always have to be in charge of anything I work on. Creating my own non-profit committed to socially and ecologically responsible city planning will require lots of experience in many fields that I will gain during my education. It will also require me to build connections with people who could be potential resources for my business. That, I feel, will be the greatest gift this university will give me. Already, so many of the people I’ve met I can tell are destined for great things. I’ve also been able to meet professionals already working in this field. Austin is at the forefront of the types of changes I want to see in the world. Being here will help me be the change.
I know all of this is tentative, but I have already found a lot of support on this path. I know there are other issues out there, other problems I want to solve, but this seems the most attainable, and best suited to the type of education I’ve received thus far. I am still afraid that this might not be the right path, that I’ll have to back track and lose much of my limited time. But I’ve realized - if I never go down a path, I’ll never know what I could’ve found there. I might as well experience things while I am alive, regardless if they fit into an ‘action plan’ or a career path. I know I want to change the world, I know I want to lead myself and others through life strongly and with purpose.
But who knows, I might just end up in business school.
When looking back over the Alice books, I am less confronted by the idea of cultural diversity than I am with the idea of socioeconomic diversity. Written from the joint perspectives of a little English girl and a Christchurch professor, the books don’t seem to contain much of an allusion to, or awareness of, the trials of living in a diverse society. What does seem apparent, however, is the conflict of interactions between characters from different social classes and the interplay between authority figures and their subordinates. Examples of this are the white rabbit and his maid, the queen and king of hearts, and the train conductor, among others. Not only do these people treat Alice and the other characters with disrespect and authoritarian attitudes, they often condescend towards Alice because she is an outsider and a little girl. From this perspective, I see Alice not as the source of intolerance but as the target of it.
The white rabbit is very condescending and intolerant. source:http://preaprez.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/white-rabbit1.jpg
I don’t blame Alice for getting flustered by this treatment. When she first meets the caterpillar he is very bossy and condescending to her, and she is just lost and confused. He is extremely reactionary and causes Alice to wish “the creatures wouldn’t be so easily offended! (53)” Generally, the wonderland creatures are more intolerant of Alice then she is of them, though she may make a few faux-pas simply by way of being ignorant of the strange social conditions of wonderland.
The characters are also intolerant of each other especially in terms of social justice and authority. The monarchs throughout the books definitely have issues with stereotyping based on appearances. An instance of this is the king of heart’s treatment of the cheshire cat, when he responds to his appearance by saying “I don’t like the look of it at all,” said the King: “however, it may kiss my hand, if it likes (86).” Thus the king and other characters do not respond well to diversity at all, as they see most everyone beneath them, including Alice.
I think a primary motivator behind this intolerance of diversity is fear. The king is afraid of the floating cat head and so treats it with disdain. Likewise, when Alice encounters the animals on the train in looking-glass land, she is at first afraid and hesitant to interact with them. She feels uncomfortable because “it was a very queer carriage-full of passengers altogether (171).” When she meets the gnat later in the forest, she admits “I don’t rejoice in insects at all… because I’m rather afraid of them (173).” She may not be entirely understanding of all the creatures she meets, but can we really blame her? She’s a small child in a strange and contradictory world.
Alice is frightened in a strange world. source:http://a7.vox.com/6a00ccff930f92d756011016297207860c-320pi
Although I feel like Alice is judged more than she judges, it is true that she slowly learns to be more comfortable in her new and strange environment and thus more accepting of the creatures there. By the end of Through the Looking Glass, when characters are morphing all around her, “at any other time, Alice would have felt surprised at this, but she was far too much excited to be surprised at anything now (266).” By the end, Alice has become acclimated to the constantly shifting and new world she’s in, and is no longer afraid or in contempt of the things she doesn’t understand. I think this is a lot like the college experience. At first we may be overwhelmed by constantly being exposed to new things and people, and we may never be able to fully grasp and appreciate all that’s going around us, but eventually we become accustomed to that way of life and try to make the most of it.
m of a capitalist system is to encourage consumers to buy into the culture. Without the commodification of beauty, of social status, perhaps these feelings of inadequacy would not be so universal.
uisitely learned self-hatred, their elaborately designed hopelessness and sucked it all up into a fiery cone of scorn (Morrison, p.65),” lash out against those with similar traits. For Claudia and Pecola, however, it is just a constant question – why them? Why not me? It is frustration – perhaps the first signs of a break in the cycle. Claudia does not accept or understand the sovereignty of Shirley Temple. Pecola believes her problems would be solved if she only had blue eyes. Two very different attitudes, but both speaking for the shallow and arbitrary nature of the cultural ideal.
to attain based on society’s standards. And with this powerlessness comes fear – the fear of rejection, the fear, reaching back to the beginning of the novel, of being “put outside”. And when those people who should form a community of likeness and support – families, cultural groups, neighbors – reject their own, then that fear becomes very real and very damaging.
