It's 4:09 am, and I am in a chilly room on the 3rd floor of the Sackett Building. I'm hungry, frustrated, chilly, tired and tired. And tired.
I'm working on an assignment that doesn't make any sense to me.
I graduate in less than two months. I'm almost there.
There is relative though because really "there" seems to be a little more scary than "here". I don't have a job, what I do have is a billion dollars in student loan debt. I'm going to change the world I know it. I know it because I refuse to do anything else. I want to teach, more than that I want to educate. I want to change kids' lives and through them the lives of their family and neighborhood.
I'm going to be awesome. I know it, I swear I can do it.
I just had to remind myself.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Poetry is weird.
Poetry is weird
it just happens
with or without your consent
the best you can do is have paper and pencil ready
or even pen
because poetry makes no mistakes
it isn't correct
it isn't nice
it doesn't care
it just is
it's not worried about being liked
it is not offended by criticism
it just is
pure and true
poetry is my idol
not one to be worshipped
but one that i'd like to model
it just happens
with or without your consent
the best you can do is have paper and pencil ready
or even pen
because poetry makes no mistakes
it isn't correct
it isn't nice
it doesn't care
it just is
it's not worried about being liked
it is not offended by criticism
it just is
pure and true
poetry is my idol
not one to be worshipped
but one that i'd like to model
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Super Old Draft I dug up
Wow it has certainly been awhile, I wonder if I even still remember how to do this. Writing everything that's in my head, it's harder than it sounds. So many times I want to go back and delete and edit and it takes a lot of will power to let it stay raw.I just had to write down these thoughts though. I'm in a really inward-looking, deep-thought state of mind. I was up talking to my babe and watching the lunar eclipse on my computer then something in me really wanted to go outside and really get a look at for myself, but it was cold and I was tired. Then one of my friends convinced me to get up and I am so glad I did. It was an absolutely gorgeous thing to see. It also made me feel good, like I was truly living my life at that moment. Whenever some once in a
lifetime event happens, I feel really arrogant when I don't go to see it. Who am I that I was so busy doing something so important that I miss one of God's masterpieces? Sitting on my steps looking up at the moon and the stars really made me feel small. All that I know and understand is limited to this one planet. I know nothing of what lies out there in that sky.
So my friend and I got to talking, just bouncing theories back and forth about life on other planets and wormhole theory, nerdy things like that and it just really set my mind on fire. So many questions like wow what if there are more than three dimensions? Imagine taking the derivative of time with respect to some other quantity? What would that be and what would it look like? Just the intellectual banter that was going back and forth between us was amazing. Neither of us had any answers at all, and it was then that I realized. This is why I chose the major I chose. Lately I have been in a place where I really hated engineering and was really doing it just for the money, but now I remember why I love it. I love it because I love not knowing, and then questioning and questioning.
The one area where I diverge from the typical engineer, and this is why I butt heads with the curriculum, is because I think that our society as a whole places too much pressure on the answer and not enough emphasis on the thought or the process of learning and understanding. See though for me I think it is a little bigger than that even. I think that sometimes it is okay to not have the answer. I mean it seems dumb to have a question and not have or want the answer but I don't know. Sometimes I don't want to have to know why. Sometimes I just want to come up with a great question and then just sit in awe of GOD's grandeur. How many dimensions are there? Who knows, but things like black holes and wormholes are some of the things that I just think of and immediately think of the vastness of GOD.
No real point to this post, just really intense thoughts I had to express.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Black Male Code
This post was taken from a news article written by Jesse Washington. I take no credit for anything included in this post. The article just really struck a minor chord with me and I wanted to share it with readers.
March 24, 2012 (WPVI) -- I thought my son would be much older before I had to tell him about the Black Male Code. He's only 12, still sleeping with stuffed animals, still afraid of the dark. But after the Trayvon Martin tragedy, I needed to explain to my child that soon people might be afraid of him.
We were in the car on the way to school when a story about Martin came on the radio. "The guy who killed him should get arrested. The dead guy was unarmed!" my son said after hearing that neighborhood watch captain George Zimmerman had claimed self-defense in the shooting in Sanford, Fla.
We listened to the rest of the story, describing how Zimmerman had spotted Martin, who was 17, walking home from the store on a rainy night, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head. When it was over, I turned off the radio and told my son about the rules he needs to follow to avoid becoming another Trayvon Martin - a black male who Zimmerman assumed was "suspicious" and "up to no good."
As I explained it, the Code goes like this:
Always pay close attention to your surroundings, son, especially if you are in an affluent neighborhood where black folks are few. Understand that even though you are not a criminal, some people might assume you are, especially if you are wearing certain clothes.
Never argue with police, but protect your dignity and take pride in humility. When confronted by someone with a badge or a gun, do not flee, fight, or put your hands anywhere other than up.
Please don't assume, son, that all white people view you as a threat. America is better than that. Suspicion and bitterness can imprison you. But as a black male, you must go above and beyond to show strangers what type of person you really are.
I was far from alone in laying out these instructions. Across the country this week, parents were talking to their children, especially their black sons, about the Code. It's a talk the black community has passed down for generations, an evolving oral tradition from the days when an errant remark could easily cost black people their job, their freedom, or sometimes their life.
After Trayvon Martin was killed, Al Dotson Jr., a lawyer in Miami and chairman of the 100 Black Men of America organization, told his 14-year-old son that he should always be aware of his surroundings, and of the fact that people might view him differently "because he's blessed to be an African-American."
"It requires a sixth sense that not everyone needs to have," Dotson said.
Dotson, 51, remembers receiving his own instructions as a youth, and hearing those instructions evolve over time.
His grandparents told Dotson that when dealing with authority figures, make it clear you are no threat at all - an attitude verging on submissive. Later, Dotson's parents told him to respond with respect and not be combative.
Today, Dotson tells his children that they should always be respectful, but should not tolerate being disrespected - which would have been recklessly bold in his grandparents' era.
Yet Dotson still has fears about the safety of his children, "about them understanding who they are and where they are, and how to respond to the environment they are in."
Bill Stephney, a media executive who lives in a New Jersey suburb that is mostly white and Asian, has two sons, ages 18 and 13. The Martin killing was an opportunity for him to repeat a longtime lesson: Black men can get singled out, "so please conduct yourself accordingly."
Like Dotson, Stephney mentioned an ultra-awareness - "a racial Spidey sense, a tingling" - that his sons should heed when stereotyping might place them in danger.
One night in the early 1980s, while a student at Adelphi University on Long Island, Stephney and about a dozen other hip-hop aficionados went to White Castle after their late-night DJ gig. They were gathered in the parking lot, eating and talking, when a squadron of police cars swooped in and a helicopter rumbled overhead.
"We got a report that a riot was going on," police told them.
Stephney and his crew used to talk late into the night about how black men in New York were besieged by violence - graffiti artist Michael Stewart's death after a rough arrest in 1983; Bernhard Goetz shooting four young black men who allegedly tried to mug him on the subway in 1984; Michael Griffith killed by a car while being chased by a white mob in 1986; the crack epidemic that rained black-on-black violence on the city. They felt under attack, as if society considered them the enemy.
This is how the legendary rap group Public Enemy was born. Their logo: A young black man in the crosshairs of a gun sight.
"Fast forward 25 years later," Stephney said. "We've come a long way to get nowhere."
But what about that long road traveled, which took a black man all the way to the White House? I can hear some of my white friends now: What evidence is there that Trayvon Martin caught George Zimmerman's attention - and his bullet - because of his race? Lynching is a relic of the past, so why are you teaching your son to be so paranoid?
There is a difference between paranoia and protection. Much evidence shows that black males face unique risks: Psychological studies indicate they are often perceived as threatening; here in Philadelphia, police stop-and-frisk tactics overwhelmingly target African-Americans, according to a lawsuit settled by the city; research suggests that people are more likely to believe a poorly seen object is a gun if it's held by a black person.
Yes, it was way back in 1955 when 14-year-old Emmitt Till was murdered in Mississippi for flirting with a white woman. But it was last Wednesday when a white Mississippi teenager pleaded guilty to murder for seeking out a black victim, coming across a man named James Craig Anderson, and running him over with his pickup truck.
Faced with this information, I'm doing what any responsible parent would do: Teaching my son how to protect himself.
Still, it requires a delicate balance. Steve Bumbaugh, a foundation director in Los Angeles, encourages his 8- and 5-year-old sons to talk to police officers, "and to otherwise develop a good relationship with the people and institutions that have the potential to give them trouble. I think this is the best defense."
"I don't want them to actually think that they are viewed suspiciously or treated differently," Bumbaugh said. "I think that realization breeds resentment and anger. And that can contribute to dangerous situations."
His sons are large for their age, however.
"I'm probably naive to think that they won't realize they're viewed differently when they're 6-4 and 200 pounds," Bumbaugh said, "but I'm going to try anyway."
I am 6-4 and more than 200 pounds, son. You probably will be too. Depending on how we dress, act and speak, people might make negative assumptions about us. That doesn't mean they must be racist; it means they must be human.
Let me tell you a story, son, about a time when I forgot about the Black Male Code.
One morning I left our car at the shop for repairs. I was walking home through our quiet suburban neighborhood, in a cold drizzle, wearing an all-black sweatsuit with the hood pulled over my head.
From two blocks away, I saw your mother pull out of our driveway and roll towards me. When she stopped next to me and rolled down the window, her brown face was ful
l of laughter. "When I saw you from up the street," your mother told me, "I said to myself, what is that guy doing in our neighborhood?"
--
Jesse Washington covers race and ethnicity for The Associated Press. He is reachable at http://twitter.com/jessewashington or jwashington@ap.org
(Copyright ©2012 WPVI-TV/DT. All Rights Reserved.)
March 24, 2012 (WPVI) -- I thought my son would be much older before I had to tell him about the Black Male Code. He's only 12, still sleeping with stuffed animals, still afraid of the dark. But after the Trayvon Martin tragedy, I needed to explain to my child that soon people might be afraid of him.
We were in the car on the way to school when a story about Martin came on the radio. "The guy who killed him should get arrested. The dead guy was unarmed!" my son said after hearing that neighborhood watch captain George Zimmerman had claimed self-defense in the shooting in Sanford, Fla.
We listened to the rest of the story, describing how Zimmerman had spotted Martin, who was 17, walking home from the store on a rainy night, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head. When it was over, I turned off the radio and told my son about the rules he needs to follow to avoid becoming another Trayvon Martin - a black male who Zimmerman assumed was "suspicious" and "up to no good."
As I explained it, the Code goes like this:
Always pay close attention to your surroundings, son, especially if you are in an affluent neighborhood where black folks are few. Understand that even though you are not a criminal, some people might assume you are, especially if you are wearing certain clothes.
Never argue with police, but protect your dignity and take pride in humility. When confronted by someone with a badge or a gun, do not flee, fight, or put your hands anywhere other than up.
Please don't assume, son, that all white people view you as a threat. America is better than that. Suspicion and bitterness can imprison you. But as a black male, you must go above and beyond to show strangers what type of person you really are.
I was far from alone in laying out these instructions. Across the country this week, parents were talking to their children, especially their black sons, about the Code. It's a talk the black community has passed down for generations, an evolving oral tradition from the days when an errant remark could easily cost black people their job, their freedom, or sometimes their life.
After Trayvon Martin was killed, Al Dotson Jr., a lawyer in Miami and chairman of the 100 Black Men of America organization, told his 14-year-old son that he should always be aware of his surroundings, and of the fact that people might view him differently "because he's blessed to be an African-American."
"It requires a sixth sense that not everyone needs to have," Dotson said.
Dotson, 51, remembers receiving his own instructions as a youth, and hearing those instructions evolve over time.
His grandparents told Dotson that when dealing with authority figures, make it clear you are no threat at all - an attitude verging on submissive. Later, Dotson's parents told him to respond with respect and not be combative.
Today, Dotson tells his children that they should always be respectful, but should not tolerate being disrespected - which would have been recklessly bold in his grandparents' era.
Yet Dotson still has fears about the safety of his children, "about them understanding who they are and where they are, and how to respond to the environment they are in."
Bill Stephney, a media executive who lives in a New Jersey suburb that is mostly white and Asian, has two sons, ages 18 and 13. The Martin killing was an opportunity for him to repeat a longtime lesson: Black men can get singled out, "so please conduct yourself accordingly."
Like Dotson, Stephney mentioned an ultra-awareness - "a racial Spidey sense, a tingling" - that his sons should heed when stereotyping might place them in danger.
One night in the early 1980s, while a student at Adelphi University on Long Island, Stephney and about a dozen other hip-hop aficionados went to White Castle after their late-night DJ gig. They were gathered in the parking lot, eating and talking, when a squadron of police cars swooped in and a helicopter rumbled overhead.
"We got a report that a riot was going on," police told them.
Stephney and his crew used to talk late into the night about how black men in New York were besieged by violence - graffiti artist Michael Stewart's death after a rough arrest in 1983; Bernhard Goetz shooting four young black men who allegedly tried to mug him on the subway in 1984; Michael Griffith killed by a car while being chased by a white mob in 1986; the crack epidemic that rained black-on-black violence on the city. They felt under attack, as if society considered them the enemy.
This is how the legendary rap group Public Enemy was born. Their logo: A young black man in the crosshairs of a gun sight.
"Fast forward 25 years later," Stephney said. "We've come a long way to get nowhere."
But what about that long road traveled, which took a black man all the way to the White House? I can hear some of my white friends now: What evidence is there that Trayvon Martin caught George Zimmerman's attention - and his bullet - because of his race? Lynching is a relic of the past, so why are you teaching your son to be so paranoid?
There is a difference between paranoia and protection. Much evidence shows that black males face unique risks: Psychological studies indicate they are often perceived as threatening; here in Philadelphia, police stop-and-frisk tactics overwhelmingly target African-Americans, according to a lawsuit settled by the city; research suggests that people are more likely to believe a poorly seen object is a gun if it's held by a black person.
Yes, it was way back in 1955 when 14-year-old Emmitt Till was murdered in Mississippi for flirting with a white woman. But it was last Wednesday when a white Mississippi teenager pleaded guilty to murder for seeking out a black victim, coming across a man named James Craig Anderson, and running him over with his pickup truck.
Faced with this information, I'm doing what any responsible parent would do: Teaching my son how to protect himself.
Still, it requires a delicate balance. Steve Bumbaugh, a foundation director in Los Angeles, encourages his 8- and 5-year-old sons to talk to police officers, "and to otherwise develop a good relationship with the people and institutions that have the potential to give them trouble. I think this is the best defense."
"I don't want them to actually think that they are viewed suspiciously or treated differently," Bumbaugh said. "I think that realization breeds resentment and anger. And that can contribute to dangerous situations."
His sons are large for their age, however.
"I'm probably naive to think that they won't realize they're viewed differently when they're 6-4 and 200 pounds," Bumbaugh said, "but I'm going to try anyway."
I am 6-4 and more than 200 pounds, son. You probably will be too. Depending on how we dress, act and speak, people might make negative assumptions about us. That doesn't mean they must be racist; it means they must be human.
Let me tell you a story, son, about a time when I forgot about the Black Male Code.
One morning I left our car at the shop for repairs. I was walking home through our quiet suburban neighborhood, in a cold drizzle, wearing an all-black sweatsuit with the hood pulled over my head.
From two blocks away, I saw your mother pull out of our driveway and roll towards me. When she stopped next to me and rolled down the window, her brown face was ful
l of laughter. "When I saw you from up the street," your mother told me, "I said to myself, what is that guy doing in our neighborhood?"
--
Jesse Washington covers race and ethnicity for The Associated Press. He is reachable at http://twitter.com/jessewashington or jwashington@ap.org
(Copyright ©2012 WPVI-TV/DT. All Rights Reserved.)
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Lying
Poem I wrote quite a while ago. I thought I shared it here but I guess I forgot. Woops. Anyway here it is.
Lying
Not with my lips, but with my body
Tense, unrested, wondering
My life, what is it?
What will it be?
After all how is a man measured,
by how much he gained or gave?
What does it matter?
Questions asked and answers withheld
Wandering lost with an outdated map
What do I want? Simple, but not quite
A query not heavy but certainly not light.
I'm not sure about much but this I know
I will own this thing not just possess it
I will live and not exist.
Make of it what I will and refuse to stay lost.
Greatness comes not with patience but with aggression!
I will take pride in what I love
and love it with all of my heart.
For soon I will be a thought,
A passing word.
What will that word be?
I don't think it makes a difference
For greatness comes not from others
but from within.
I will decide my legacy for I will write it myself.
I will take control of my life.
I will seize this day and every one that follows.
What say you? What will come of your life?
I pray you continue to wonder
and when wondering stops quenching the feeling
Take to action.
Life is short and memory shorter
I want people to remember my life
I want to be someone who made
other people better with my words
Someone who's smile made someone
feel they were important
Someone who left the world better than
he inherited it.
But how?
By turning vision into action.
Carpe Diem
Lying
Not with my lips, but with my body
Tense, unrested, wondering
My life, what is it?
What will it be?
After all how is a man measured,
by how much he gained or gave?
What does it matter?
Questions asked and answers withheld
Wandering lost with an outdated map
What do I want? Simple, but not quite
A query not heavy but certainly not light.
I'm not sure about much but this I know
I will own this thing not just possess it
I will live and not exist.
Make of it what I will and refuse to stay lost.
Greatness comes not with patience but with aggression!
I will take pride in what I love
and love it with all of my heart.
For soon I will be a thought,
A passing word.
What will that word be?
I don't think it makes a difference
For greatness comes not from others
but from within.
I will decide my legacy for I will write it myself.
I will take control of my life.
I will seize this day and every one that follows.
What say you? What will come of your life?
I pray you continue to wonder
and when wondering stops quenching the feeling
Take to action.
Life is short and memory shorter
I want people to remember my life
I want to be someone who made
other people better with my words
Someone who's smile made someone
feel they were important
Someone who left the world better than
he inherited it.
But how?
By turning vision into action.
Carpe Diem
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Eh
Haven't blogged in forever. I feel like I start off every single entry with that same phrase. Well I'm going to try and fix that.
Anyway so here I am at 5am blogging and not doing the homework I stayed up to do. Really not the way it should be, but lately I have been living life the way I would live if I knew I only had one life to live (not a soap opera reference). Sounds weird but it's so true. I'm living each day as I want to do. I am working hard on the things that are important to me, my relationships, my organizations, and my thoughts. Other things that, right now don't feel important, like school are getting slighted. It's really strange because I go through such fluctuations with school. I'll go through a semester where I love it and then hit a semester where I hate it. However right now I am in a place where I really don't want to be trapped in a mediocre life. I am in a major that is going to push me into a career that looks an awful lot like a desk job with perks. Some of those perks being a decent salary, nice benefits, job security, and cool toys, but seriously desk jockeying is NOT my calling and I will die slowly everyday I sit in that shirt and tie at that desk. I need to be out changing the world. That is what I want to do. That is what I am meant to do. I don't know how or when, or even why but I know just as sure as I am sitting here that that is my purpose.
So two years from now I will be a graduate of The Pennsylvania State University and then what? Who knows? Kinda scary but whatever I am also not a planner so what the hell we'll see what happens.
Anyway so here I am at 5am blogging and not doing the homework I stayed up to do. Really not the way it should be, but lately I have been living life the way I would live if I knew I only had one life to live (not a soap opera reference). Sounds weird but it's so true. I'm living each day as I want to do. I am working hard on the things that are important to me, my relationships, my organizations, and my thoughts. Other things that, right now don't feel important, like school are getting slighted. It's really strange because I go through such fluctuations with school. I'll go through a semester where I love it and then hit a semester where I hate it. However right now I am in a place where I really don't want to be trapped in a mediocre life. I am in a major that is going to push me into a career that looks an awful lot like a desk job with perks. Some of those perks being a decent salary, nice benefits, job security, and cool toys, but seriously desk jockeying is NOT my calling and I will die slowly everyday I sit in that shirt and tie at that desk. I need to be out changing the world. That is what I want to do. That is what I am meant to do. I don't know how or when, or even why but I know just as sure as I am sitting here that that is my purpose.
So two years from now I will be a graduate of The Pennsylvania State University and then what? Who knows? Kinda scary but whatever I am also not a planner so what the hell we'll see what happens.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Random Poetry
I've never been good at starting or finishing
I don't pull you in quickly or let you down softly
I just open my mouth and begin
I give you what's there
It's literally right here just inches under my skin
You can't see it, but you can feel it, or at least I can
You see my emotions don't get much exposure
So give them an inch and they take a mile
They just don't understand how hard it is for me not to smile
Yes, not to smile
Because smiling is who I am
Happiness is how you know me
So if I'm unhappy who am I?
Seriously who am I?
Am I still Avery when I'm sad?
Would you still love me when I'm mad?
Am I cool when I'm uncertain?
Still smooth when I scarred?
I didn't think so
You see you fell in love with the me I showed you
The real me has few friends and no acquaintances
He is trapped and he is lonely
I feel him dying slowly.
I don't pull you in quickly or let you down softly
I just open my mouth and begin
I give you what's there
It's literally right here just inches under my skin
You can't see it, but you can feel it, or at least I can
You see my emotions don't get much exposure
So give them an inch and they take a mile
They just don't understand how hard it is for me not to smile
Yes, not to smile
Because smiling is who I am
Happiness is how you know me
So if I'm unhappy who am I?
Seriously who am I?
Am I still Avery when I'm sad?
Would you still love me when I'm mad?
Am I cool when I'm uncertain?
Still smooth when I scarred?
I didn't think so
You see you fell in love with the me I showed you
The real me has few friends and no acquaintances
He is trapped and he is lonely
I feel him dying slowly.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Ugh
Right now I’m having this overwhelming sense of selfishness. Like what I do for anyone else? Even this Christmas I look at all my parents do for me and I feel like I get too much. I can’t really think of the last time I didn’t get something I wanted. Not because I beg and plead but really because my parents are just that good to me. I feel really stupid for even being all moapy and weird because I really am very happy. The semester went fairly well, I’m home with my family, and I got way more than I even asked for but still I feel terrible. I feel terrible for feeling so happy.
The thing is it’s not like a passing feeling. I’m sitting here feeling it and it’s kind of taking me over. Like I even feel it towards my brother. I want to make him happier because I feel like I really don’t deserve the happiness I have and I am painfully aware of it. I feel like everyone around me really needs the happiness that I have. What have I done to deserve this? Nothing at all.
The thing is usually when I feel bad or angry or upset it usually motivates me to act. Except right now I feel helpless. I feel horrible in my skin. Lik e I don't want to exist because I feel like there's nothing I can do right now. I feel trapped in this place. I'm feeling the weight of my privilege and there is no way to get rid of it. If I throw away everything I know then I'm just a privileged person that threw everything away to make himself feel better, I'm still selfish. I don't want to exist. I want to not be here, but at the same time I don't want to forfeit my privilege and let it go to waste.
Honestly I want some way to not be selfish. I don't know what I want. I wish I could exist without a body. I feel that if I had no body, no earthly desires than I could feel better about myself.
I love myself and I love my life. This is not a suicide note I realize it kind of sounds that way. I just am really analyzing this feeling I have.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Time to Ponder
Wow it has certainly been awhile, I wonder if I even still remember how to do this. Writing everything that's in my head, it's harder than it sounds. So many times I want to go back and delete and edit and it takes a lot of will power to let it stay raw.
I just had to write down these thoughts though. I'm in a really inward-looking, deep-thought state of mind. I was up talking to my babe and watching the lunar eclipse on my computer then something in me really wanted to go outside and really get a look at for myself, but it was cold and I was tired. Then one of my friends convinced me to get up and I am so glad I did. It was an absolutely gorgeous thing to see. It also made me feel good, like I was truly living my life at that moment. Whenever some once in a
lifetime event happens, I feel really arrogant when I don't go to see it. Who am I that I was so busy doing something so important that I miss one of God's masterpieces? Sitting on my steps looking up at the moon and the stars really made me feel small. All that I know and understand is limited to this one planet. I know nothing of what lies out there in that sky.
So my friend and I got to talking, just bouncing theories back and forth about life on other planets and wormhole theory, nerdy things like that and it just really set my mind on fire. So many questions like wow what if there are more than three dimensions? Imagine taking the derivative of time with respect to some other quantity? What would that be and what would it look like? Just the intellectual banter that was going back and forth between us was amazing. Neither of us had any answers at all, and it was then that I realized. This is why I chose the major I chose. Lately I have been in a place where I really hated engineering and was really doing it just for the money, but now I remember why I love it. I love it because I love not knowing, and then questioning and questioning.
The one area where I diverge from the typical engineer, and this is why I butt heads with the curriculum, is because I think that our society as a whole places too much pressure on the answer and not enough emphasis on the thought or the process of learning and understanding. See though for me I think it is a little bigger than that even. I think that sometimes it is okay to not have the answer. I mean it seems dumb to have a question and not have or want the answer but I don't know. Sometimes I don't want to have to know why. Sometimes I just want to come up with a great question and then just sit in awe of GOD's grandeur. How many dimensions are there? Who knows, but things like black holes and wormholes are some of the things that I just think of and immediately think of the vastness of GOD.
No real point to this post, just really intense thoughts I had to express.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Battle of the Bods
Ok so this is something that has been irking me for a long time now. There is this show called Battle of the Bods. I don't think it comes on anymore but its still played on hulu. I used to watch it all the time because frankly it's got scantily clad women, and what guy doesn't like that but seriously though I saw it recently and it infuriated me.
Let me just give you some background(click to see an episode). So basically it's a show where five women are judged by three men from "one being hot to five being not". So the women come out and try to put themselves in the same order that the men put them. So the first round is their faces, so they all fight over positions and then finally settle in to their respective numbers. Then the host tells them how many they got right and they win five hundred dollars for each girl in the right position. So that's the gist. In the second round the women get to choose what body part will be rated and the third round is a rating of the entire girl as a whole.
Ok so I have so many issues with this show. Part of me thinks I am taking it all too seriously but I think it is little things like this that keep the public psyche as fucked up as it is. So all of the girls come out and look at each other and basically they all have to fight and argue for who belongs where. "My eyes are bluer," "well my hair is cuter," it's always the same. So then each girl takes a position on one of the numbers and then the host comes and tells them how many they got wrong and then before they go to the next round she tells them to line up in their rightful place. PAUSE. Did anyone else just catch that? So not only are the women made to parade around for the men in their lingerie and fight over who looks best, after they make their decision the host comes and corrects them saying no no no ladies you only got one right, now line up the way you should, or rather line up the way men tell you to. So who gives a damn how you think you look, you belong here, not there. It's absolutely ridiculous I can hardly type, I'm so angry. Then to add to the general theme, the women are paid for each right answer. They are essentially being trained, the same way you train a dog, with reward and punishment. If you line up the way you should we'll pay you, if not, you get nothing but embarrassment.
It goes deeper for me though. I not only look at the male/female aspect but also the racial undertones. In every group of five girls there is always at least one minority, nine times out of ten a black girl. I am black male, and I am attracted to black females. I love them, I think they are the most gorgeous creatures on Earth. So whenever I watch in my mind I am almost always putting her first. However in the show the black girl is almost always in the bottom. When the other girls are debating and arguing, the black girl's rating is never up for discussion because she just knows where she belongs. I never really noticed that before. They argue over who's legs are longer, or who's eyes are bluer, or who's hair is straighter, but the black girl is not included. She is five. Sometimes a really strong women will fight in the first round thinking hey I have a pretty face and she is more often than not out voted and exiled to the bottom spot, then when the guy's rating confirms that of the other girls, she fights no more and just assumes her position at the bottom in each successive round. I think it's absolutely crazy really.
So once I started noticing all these thing I started watching it more. Except now I was almost studying. What was really playing out on this show? Then I started thinking who's opinions are these? Surely the three men don't represent all men. Funny I thought that because each episode, has a different group of men judge. So one episode maybe be judges that are musicians, or judges that are construction workers. So in watching I realized that no matter what the group of judges, their perception of beauty never reflected my own. Even when the groups included black men the black women were still rated last. I couldn't understand it. Is there no demographic that appreciates the beauty of a black women? Again, I find myself getting to the point where I can hardly even think. What the hell! I mean who made these rules that we are all slaves to? I say we because I know on some level this must tie into me somehow. I find myself cheering for the black women almost praying that they be ranked high because I fear for what it may do to their confidence. See but even then I'm feeding into it again, because why should her confidence depend on where three random guys rank her?
I have no idea, but this show really pisses me off and I had to write about it. It's been off the air for awhile now, it randomly popped upon hulu and that's how I rediscovered it. Strange how much you can change in a couple years.
Oh wait one more thing I just have to say. Okay so like I said there are three rounds in which the women rate themselves and then are corrected and put in the right position. Then after the third round the men do the same. So the men come out and the women attempt to guess what order the men will place themselves in. If the women guess all three correct they win an extra $2500. So most would say oh well see the women get to turn the tables and it all pans out, but I disagree. the men come out and rate themselves one through three and the women try to guess. Although what remains constant is the fact that the men still wield the power. if the women guess the wrong order they lose the $2500. So not only do he men dictate which women are attractive, they also dictate which men are attractive. You thought he was hotter than me, well you're wrong you be attracted to this guy with this body, etc. So women essentially have no say in who they are attracted to, how attractive they are, or frankly anything for that matter.
Is that not crazy!? I don't know it hit me so hard that I actually got up and turned on my computer so I could write about it because I couldn't sleep. I have truly never sexism or racism this powerful before. The thing that gets me is the fact that it is right in plain sight. It is not at all hidden, it is literally right there for all to see. Actually in one of the episodes while judging one of the men says something like "wow I feel really sexist right now". He looks at the other guys then snickers and says "eh whatever" and continues.
Yo I honestly don't even know what to say about this. I'm so pissed. SOOOO pissed. Food for thought I guess. Sometimes it's enough to be aware but knowing that doesn't make it any easier.
My children will be beautiful, and I will tell them that everyday, that's all I can say.
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