This I Believe

I believe in strawberry frosted cupcakes- the kind that necessitates the addition of sprinkles, or gummy worms, or Oreo cookie crumbs. I believe in dress up, stuffed animal tea parties, and play dough. I believe that a spoonful of juvenility is a necessary component of the toolbox of adulthood that allows us to move on.

Moving forward leads to a cycle of forgetfulness- forgetting the name of that girl who pushed you off the swings in preschool or forgetting the date of your high school graduation. We forget faces, names, dates, details, but they are easily replaced as our lives evolve. Emotions, however, are not replaced. Emotions are the roots of life. We remember the tear-inducing embarrassment when we were pushed of the swings, and we remember the exhilaration of grasping a high school diploma. Remembering and reliving emotions of the past are what remind us of our humanity. Emotions signal to us that while the world around us changes, amends, and evolves the person inside of us grows as well, to our own rhythm. Emotions are the great connector. Staying grounded by emotions of our past, particularly the good ones, connects our pasts to our futures, making the unknown ahead seem conquerable.

A few years ago, my grandpa found himself held hostage by bone cancer. He sat confined on a bed claustrophobic from the bustle of white gowns, medical equipment, a tube containing his reproducing cells, and his life expectancy of two more weeks. The chill of the hospital and that stale, sanitized smell swallowed hopelessness and spread it generously. Around lunch time, my aunt came through the door with a tray of pink frosted cupcakes. She motioned to my mom and me and we followed her into the room where my grandpa had already spent a week.

“Trust me,” she whispered. “This will make him smile.”

I saw my grandpa propped up by two pillows staring dejectedly at the vanilla pudding in front of him. We said our usual hellos, talked about the weather and something in the news. Then my aunt presented him with one of the twelve cupcakes sitting contently in their container.

“Remember? Your mom used to make these for you all the time,” my aunt said.

And just like that, the strawberry frosted cupcakes triggered something-something that a thousand get-well cards and a million flowers could not trigger. Suddenly he was no longer sitting in loneliness at the Morristown Hospital. He was a young boy helping his mother on their Virginia farm, or maybe he was helping to organize books at his father’s store. This connection to his childhood, and the mere excitement of a fluffy cupcake reminded him that there was more to him than this cancer and more to his life than that hospital.

A week later, he was released from the hospital, cancer defeated. My grandma said his incredible doctors were responsible for his recovery. And me? I say it was the strawberry-frosted cupcakes.

A Modest Proposal

Fact: More people voted in the 2008 American Idol finals than in the 2009 Presidential Election.

In a competitive, reality-show obsessed society of citizens looking for an escape beyond the screen of their TV, few find the time to fully immerse themselves in the politics by which they are governed. This ignorance leads those who wish to claim their citizenship by utilizing their right to vote to cast their ballot blindly along party lines, forgetting that the name “Republican” and “Democrat” carry different meanings with each passing day. The issue is simple. There is no excitement in watching a presidential debate when one could just as easily be watching a more enticing program such as Lost or Dancing with the Stars. The reality TV show intelligently blends competition with charismatic judges, unique contestants, and unpredictable human emotion. Presidential campaigns, on the other hand, consist of two boring men and women in over-ironed suits and American flag pins spitting out legal and political jargon which proves nothing about the individual. Thus, politics are lost on the average Joe Plumber who settles on his couch with his wife and five kids to watch Mario Lopez on Dancing with the Stars.
In order to place politics back on the priority list, I propose a change to the way in which the President of the United States is selected. Throw away podiums, suits, and legal jargon. Throw away primary elections, for they are unnecessary and boring. I propose a competition that will reveal various aspects of each candidate’s talent, intelligence, strength, and critical thinking. I propose a reality-TV show in which three Democratic and three Republican presidential nominees will battle in a series of competitions, and the American people will vote for who they wish to remain in the running to become the next President of the United States.

The first round of this competition will mirror a game-show. The longevity of shows such as “The Price is Right” prove that game shows have captivated audiences since their introduction in the 1950s, therefore this first round of “The Next President” will be sure to draw a huge number of viewers. Since some of America’s best and brightest have appeared on Jeopardy, the first round of contests will be similar in format. Each candidate will select a category and a question pertaining to politics and history and will answer in question form. At the end of the game, the two candidates with the highest scores will automatically move into the next round, while the American people will have a week to call in and place a vote for the other candidate they wish to see move on. This particular round will prove a few things. First, the American people will be able to see just how “book smart” their candidates are and how learned they are on the history and politics of the country which they wish to govern. Secondly, it will show how each candidate can remain composed under pressure, while five other men or women attempt to be the first to the buzzer. Since the current president of the United States will be the host, Americans will have a chance to see how the new candidates act and wittily converse with the current President, which would signal how easily the candidate could work with the President during their transition to the White House. After this round, the two candidates with the lowest number of votes will be eliminated.

We all love a war hero. Therefore, the second round of “The Next President” will center on the candidates’ abilities with combat. The four candidates will be placed in the wilderness for a week with nothing more than a water bottle, a large gun, and the clothing on their back. Each candidate will have to search for their own food, fight against wildlife, planted terrorists, and Mother Nature, while trying to make it to the finish line approximately 200 miles away from the starting point. The last candidate to cross the finish line will be eliminated. Many characteristics of the potential Presidents will be exploited with this challenge. Firstly, each candidate’s combative skills will be highlighted, which would prove who is most suited to be the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces. Secondly, Americans will be able to separate the cry babies from the tough guys as each candidate battles through Mother Nature’s less favorable qualities. Thirdly, the ability for the candidates to stay calm under pressure will be assessed, which is a needed trait when dealing with the stress of the White House.

The third round of “The Next President” will again utilize the votes of the American people. Since the President is the “face of America” as well as the most important foreign ambassador, each candidate will test their charisma and charm in a dance competition. The competition will feature each candidate dancing with their first lady. After all, as Jacqueline Kennedy and Michelle Obama have proven, first women have an iconic role in society. The pairs will be instructed in different forms of ethnic cultural dances, and will perform their four strongest pieces in front of a panel of professional dancers, Supreme Court justices, and Simon Cowell. The American people will again be able to exercise their rights as responsible citizens and can text on call to place their vote for their favorite couples.

At this point in the campaign period, only two candidates will remain, either from the same party or from different parties. Instead of engaging in a stiff debate, each candidate will make a serried of appearances on morning talk shows and late night talk shows to show off their wit, intelligent, and charisma. After each candidate has appeared on every required show including The Tyra Banks Show, Rachel Ray, Regis and Kelly, and Jay Leno, Americans will cast their vote via text or phone, since leaving the house is clearly causes major problems for some Americans who just cannot get to the conveniently located voted booths.

Of course, this program would be paid for with tax dollars; however its popularity will justify any cost. Since education clearly has not engaged students sufficiently in politics, why base the Presidential election on politics when American citizens would rather be watching other programs? Let us embrace our American ways: democracy and reality TV.

Dystopia Books Never Get Old.....

It is interesting the way in which we find ourselves grasping for the truth about today by reading exaggerated depictions of modern advancements and societal norms. As the reader swims in the dystopias of Huxley and Orwell, the question becomes who is our biggest enemy: the government or ourselves? Are the powers of technological advancements thrust upon us or do we walk blindly and self-guided into a world of infinite scientific advancements? Ultimately, the power is invested in the will of the people, as suggested by Huxley. While the Big Brother of Orwell's world looks over a society that reflects current human tendency, Huxley's chilling world, as Neil Postman suggests, holds more relevancy.

Self-destruction is more powerful and consequential than governmental oppression. In Huxley's world, oppression comes from obsession with technology that has the power to "undo their capacities to think," (Postman). The advancement of technology enhanced with the necessity of leisure allows for the invention of entertainment machines that enduce high levels of consumption and production, which provides a foundation of consumerism. The importance and money invested in the advertisement business today mirrors this idea of comsumption based on leisure. In Orwell's 1984, technology, such as the telescreens, are used as a means of governmental control, attempting to brainwash the citizens in submission. However, technology in Huxley's world is used for self-advancement. Whether it be to play sports without leaving the couch or holding a business meeting online, today's society utilizes technological advancements for the sake of efficiency, leisure, and ease.

Closely linked, science and technology develop hand-in-hand today today and in Huxley's dystopia. Science in Orwell's invented society is used to suppress emotions, since "people are controlled by inflicting pain," (Postman). Huxley's dystopia, however utilizes scientific advancement in the State's neverending quest for truth and stability. The Bokanovsky Process exemplifies this utilization of science by fostering social stability since the clones it produces are predestined to perform identical tasks at identical machines. This shows a fear of the unknown-a fear that uncontrolled, natural births could result in children with defects or qualities that would upset the balance of the leisure-based society. Today the idea of "designer babies" reduce the fear of the unknown, as controversial embryonic research and stem cell research look to prevent disease and unfavorable traits.

Orwell feared a society driven by pain and ignorance of human impulse. Huxley, on the other hand “feared we would become a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies,” (Postman). Sexual temptation is certainly not suppressed in society. Since Alfred Kinsey shocked the American society of the 1940s with his revelations of sexual habits among married and unmarried couples, sex as slowly removed the “taboo” sticker. TV shows such as Sex and the City center around sexual lifestyles, and jokes popular even among middle school students are often sexually based. The act of sex in Huxley’s society is driven by a system of social rewards for promiscuity and lack of commitment. In the media, affairs are romanticized and the idea of single men and women having multiple sexual partners is commonplace.

Here we stand in 2009 in a society of technological advancements and leisure. Why get off the couch to play sports? The virtual world is just…..well….easier. While some will argue that Orwell’s oppressive government mirrors society today, Huxley’s leisure-centered, self-destructive society is much more relevant.

Wii anyone?

"Okay, Now do Ten Crunches."

Americans seem to be plagued with a gluttonous reputation. The United States is viewed as the nation who would rather play virtual sports on the comfort of a couch, than actually get up, change their clothes, lace their shoes, get in a car, drive to a gym, a tennis court, a park, a soccer field, or a pool to actually exercise. In a desperate attempt to keep up with American clocks that are set at a quicker pace than those in other nations, McDonalds provides the much needed food oasis. Thanks to the New Jersey state government, public school children from the first to twelfth grade are forced to fight the gluttony. However, the fight can only go on for so long. There comes a point when some will make the choice to practice a healthy lifestyle, while others are perfectly content in a lifestyle not recommended by the National Nutrition Association. Physical education in schools is beneficial to a point. However, there comes a time when physical education becomes nothing more than a wasted forty-two minute period. Physical education should not be a requirement beyond the eighth grade, and should be offered solely as an elective for those who enjoy and benefit from the course.

First and foremost, school is an institution founded on academic interests. Therefore, schools should allow for the maximum amount of time to be devoted to classroom studies, if a student so wishes. Many schools, including High Point Regional, offer enticing elective courses and AP classes that many students, myself included, have been forced to give up due to the necessity of physical education. It seems to be common knowledge that Americans, in general, are falling behind other nations in the area of technology. Typically, technology courses in high school are offered as electives. Time must be allotted for these electives, in order to properly prepare interested students for college and life beyond formal education. It could be argued that gym allows for extended academic learning by allowing sciences to have an additional lab period a week, however, it is just as easy to lab out of an elective, a lunch, or a study hall, as many students do currently.

It seems as though physical education was created for two main purposes: 1) to promote exercise and 2) to allow certain students an outlet for the energy typically not appreciated in the classroom setting. For those who wish to release the extra energy, the physical education opportunity should be there, but not all students need that outlet. Physical education would benefit younger children and preteens by exposing them to various sports that one could potentially participate in at the high school level, and by attempting to instill a love of exercise in their minds. However, in high school, it is time for teens to be treated as adults. Meaning, that by the time freshmen enter the building, their lives should be placed in their own hands with the decision to exercise or not to exercise.

Injuries procured in physical education are both unwanted and detrimental to every student. Firstly, many students are put in uncomfortable situations in gym classes while trying to avoid potential injury. For example last week, I was in a gym class with approximately a 24 to 4 boy to girl ratio trying to dodge balls thrown at my face by boys twice my size and with four times as much strength. It’s simply uncomfortable. No student should be put in a similar situation. Secondly, student athletes, who obviously exercise outside of physical education, should not have to worry about injuring themselves in gym class. That single injury could potentially hurt the reputation of the school in general, if the sports teams lose multiple players to physical education injury.

Let high school students choose. Physical education is a wonderful opportunity for those who want it. You cannot force a lifestyle on someone. That lifestyle can only be presented and taught, and after that, it is in the hands of the individual. Once physical education has taught the fundamental lessons of the sporting world, such a team work, the class becomes a hassle, and an obstacle for many students. So let us chose. The ball is in our court.

5'9", Jazz Proficient, 113 Pounds, Perfect

"What do I want? Ever since I was a little girl there's only been I thing I want. I want what I've wanted since the first day I learned how to walk. I wanna be a Rockette." -Kicks, the Musical


There's something about them-long legs, perfectly uniform, sparkly costumes-that make the Radio City Christmas Spectacular a must-see, pack-the-entire-family-in-the-car-to-drive-in-ice-sleet-snow-hail-to-see-it show. But what is it about them? From a technical dance stand point, the show lacks any incredibly complex combinations, gravity-defying leaps, feats of flexibility, and dizzying spins. And yet well-conditioned dancers flood the box office in October to reserve seats for themselves, their parents, their second cousins, and their best friend's boyfriend's sister. I'm guilty. Since I was seven I've been in awe of the Rockettes. I will be turning 18 in January and I will meet every requirement to audition for a prized Rockette position. I never wanted to be the Sugar Plum Fairy, I wanted to be a spot in the long line of precision. But why? Why do the Rockettes pave the way for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade every year? Why have they been carefully placed on the top of the holiday heirarchy of entertainment?

It's easy.

The Rockettes opitomize perfection. Humans are created to be perfectionists. Now, you may be thinking, my room is a mess, I could not care less about how neatly I write my notes, and I get dressed in the dark. We are not all perfectionists in the sense that we spend hours on a homework assignment, meticulously scruntinizing over each and every letter. But think about it. Confusion and chaos cause some to completely shut down and lapse into some form of depression. Confusion is not an emotion humans like to carry with them for long periods of time. It is in our nature to sort things out, hoping to reach some form of understanding. Humans look for perfection in order. It's the exact reason why timelines are effective when studying history. It's why time order words (next, then, finally) are crucial in story-telling vernacular. Even if one's desk appears to be a complete mess of misplaced papers, it is guaranteed that in one's mind some form of order exists in regard to those papers.

It goes back to biology (and if you're like me, the word biology makes you cringe, so I'll only touch on it briefly). Every transfer of enery increases the entropy, or disorder of the universe. While the universe moves towards disorder a particular system, or individual moves toward maximum stability, or equilibrium. And so while our lives become increasingly chaotic and seemingly uncontrollable, it is in our nature to look for some sort of order, or equilibrium. So maybe we as humans find comfort in the Rockette's perfection admidst the chaotic streets of the city?

I'm not sure what it says about humans as a whole that we strive for perfection. Perhaps it's what keeps us moving forward, while allowing us to make sense of our lives. So, during the rush of the holiday season, kicking eye-high, perfectly in sync are the Rockettes, society's tangible perfection.

Oh They Grow Up So Fast.....

"It's now 1990. I'm forty-three years old, which would've seemed impossible to a fourth grader, and yet when I look at photographs of myself as I was in 1956, I realize that in the important ways I haven't changed at all. I was Timmy then; now I'm Tim. But the essence remains the same. I'm not fooled by the baggy pants or the crew cut or the happy smile—I know my own eyes—and there is no doubt that the Timmy smiling at the camera is the Tim I am now. Inside the body, or beyond the body, there is something absolute and unchanging. The human life is all one thing, like a blade tracing loops on ice: a little kid, a twenty-three-year-old infantry sergeant, a middle-aged writer knowing guilt and sorrow,"(236).

As I look back on my own life and think of the lives of others, there are striking characteristics that remain static throughout the course of our lives. While I clearly didn’t know her as a child, my grandmother was the kindergartner sitting in the corner smiling shying. She would always know the answer but would never speak out, for a fear of being misunderstood. My mother was the first-grader who would receive that highest grades on spelling tests, but would still feel a sense of inadequacy. She was a book worm, I’m sure, consumed by the pictures of children’s books and she was unafraid of spiders and worms as she trudged through the woods of her backyard. This is all speculation, of course, but I can deduce these descriptions of my mother and grandmother from knowing them now- because, in essence, we all have certain characteristics that define us as individuals.

This being said, I do not agree with O’Brien’s assertion that “the human life is all one thing.” Perhaps for some people, they remain exactly the way they were from the moment they were born. Their outlook on life is exactly the same, the characteristics of their soul unchanging. However, most individuals experience changes due to unexpected events or troubles in their life that alter, even slightly, the way they act, feel, and look at the world as a whole. For example, there is a picture in my room of my mom and me standing in front of a rhododendron bush. I see in my blue-brown spotted eyes many parts of the girl I am today- I was and am jealous, stubborn, impatient, unable to make a decision between the blue and pink toothbrush at the dentist’s office, loyal, compassionate, optimistic, unfortunately judgmental, and likely to change my opinions about people, the world, and myself in an instant. However, while core parts of me remain, the way in which my mind works has changed dramatically since the instant that picture was snapped.

At age six, I was perhaps the sloppiest, most careless person in my kindergarten class. Smears of crayon found their way outside of the lines, and somehow coats, jackets, socks, hair brushes, shoelaces, stuffed animals, and other necessities of a six-year-old were left stained, torn, misplaced, and entirely abused. However, I am today a borderline obsessive compulsive “neat freak.” I am not this way simply because “I learned better," but there is actually a feeling inside of me the drives me to take special care of each and every one of my possessions.

Additionally, I was painfully shy, quiet, and refined in elementary school. I would raise my hand patiently in class as ten other children shouted aloud around me. I am, to some extent, still very refined and quiet. I am “hyper” only with my closest of friends and those I feel comfortable being silly around. However, somewhere along the road I acquired a love of the spotlight. This caused an actual change within me. This comes from my experiences as a dancer and stage performer. I have shed a huge amount of self-consciousness that I was plagued with as a child, and I thrive on the opportunity to be noticed.

As a child growing up in a household with separated parents, I learned the realities of love and marriage and I learned that the truth of life did not lie in Disney movies. This realization caused me to become self-sufficient and I have within me a drive to succeed so I never in my life have to depend on someone else. Had a continued to grow up in a “perfect” household, I would not be as nearly self-sufficient as I am today and I would be sheltered from some harsh realities of life.

My parents have instilled in me important values and the difference between “right and wrong” which account for my incredibly loud conscious. This conscious often forces me to act in a certain way in a given situation. Is this instance, I have not actually changed characteristically, but rather I have advanced as a human being and my awareness of the needs of others.

Therefore, characteristically I am the same that I have always been, but the way I act and the way I feel in different situations has certainly changed drastically due to life’s experiences. Life is not so much “a blade tracing loops on ice,” but rather, a blade tracing a zigzagging, curving, spiraling picture drawn across the ice. Life is a collage of one's static characteristics, as well as one's growth and change.

Why I Write-Frank McCourt

I write. I write. I write.

The lush feel of ink staining paper makes me feel full and satisfied. Many necessities in my life have been scarce at one time or another: money, cleanliness, self-satisfaction; however, the vast oasis of words in my mind has never run dry. Ask me for 100 words, I’ll give you 1,000. I can’t help myself. Words are history. Words are my memory. Words are Ireland. Words are my passport to the intangible past-the days behind me that have lost brilliance, but not vigor.

I have lived. I do not write to solidify my own past-I have a mind that is solid enough to retain my memories. Rather, I write to teach the past to those who were born blindly into this world- those who live each day not knowing the legacies of those who walked before them. I am the voice of Ireland and all that it lost, and all that it gained.

Who? What? When? Where? Why? Who cares? Tell me how you felt, how your body reacted to overwhelming human emotion. Take away everything material-take away my food, his clothes, your bed, their house. Maybe life is fair: the important aspects of life-emotions- cannot be taken away. I do not manipulate words to create narratives, but I order words to mimic emotions. Emotions are horrifying, fulfilling, uncontrollable, self-induced phenomena that lack a How-To Guide. I write not to create that How-To-Guide, but to create a This-Is-What-Happened-To-Us-Leave-It-Or-Learn-From-It Guide. I want to teach the depression of my mother and the drunken movements of my father to save not myself, but those of the future.

When I write, I sing. Words are more powerful than temporary emotions induced by the generosity behind a material gift. It’s amazing the power a sing-song voice can have on a person. Words hold the healing powers-I wish to heal through writing, as I allow my words to sing.

Age is incredibly important when analyzing one’s capacity for comprehension, pain, love, and want. I write to reflect the way I thought at a given age. At age five, I took notice of the trivial moments in life, and the miniscule details. The brilliant white of my brother’s coffin was much more important than the way I felt, or the way mom cried. At age seventeen, I could evaluate my life from a far. The weather was much less important than the way in which I viewed my sinful actions, and how they would affect my future. However, the mind of a child is just as influential, if not more influential, than the judgmental, often dirtied, mind of an adult. We are born with the ability to view life without bias, without comparing ourselves to those around us, without self-pity. I write to teach the genius of the juvenile mind.

Oh, those pompous priests. I write to prove those pompous priests wrong. Life is more than strategically avoiding the urges of sin, just as Ireland is defined much more by its physical beauty than by its church. Yes, St. Francis, I once spoke of life’s unfair nature. However, through writing, I have reassessed my life. Religious fastidiousness has been replaced with maturity and self-forgiveness. Writing gives me the power to move forward, grow, and teach.

A poor boy-that’s what I was. I am a boy whose mother gave birth out of wedlock, and whose parents were from not from the same regions of Ireland. It was overwhelmingly difficult to break free from society’s unwelcoming tendency to express prejudices. Emotions were contained, not nurtured. America and my voyage upon the Irish Oak gave freedom to my pen. Words flew unfiltered from my mind and onto the page, where they gained tangibility. I write to be free.

Words have the power to induce laughter. Life is filled with humorous moments that make us stop our pain and suffering, even if just for a moment, to enjoy simply being alive. I consistently inject a little humor into my writing to convey the joy of breath and the pure beauty of living.

Yes, life has been a wild ride. A ride filled with faces that I cannot remember, emotions that I never captured, and moments that transcend words. However, my past, as difficult as it may have been, is what allowed me to move forward. I write to move forward as I carry with me my readers. I write to retell what I can in hopes of nurturing a better tomorrow by touching the minds of today.