Thursday, October 27, 2011

Journal #11: response to Melissa Yuen


Though I probably lack the authority knowledge to say so, I greatly praise Melissa Yuen for the connections she has drawn between the short story and poems from our reading. The country and culture of her origin are radically different from America and its culture, but Melissa recognizes the similarities between all humans.
            Melissa questions the wrongful sense of entitlement that white people still possessed long after the Civil War. This sense of authority had its roots the initial capture and transportation of Africans to America. White people looked upon the indigenous Africans as uncivilized and in need of socialization to the European culture. The white people thus empowered themselves by believing that they were superior to the Africans and giving themselves the duty of refining the African peoples. So I stress that in the eyes of the English settlers, the tribal Africans really were inferior. Once this mindset had been distinguished, it continued for several centuries, as we well know, and still continues today in various pockets of society.
As Melissa said, the readings portrayed whites in a very negative light. To truly understand the actions of majorities, which in this case was the white people, we must examine the reasons and leaders behind the actions. The whites (condemning blacks) did not see themselves as doing anything wrong, and they probably had many reasons to justify their actions. Though those reasons have been deemed invalid (as they should be), the beliefs of white people were still their beliefs. People will always believe what they believe, especially when there is a charismatic leader telling them that this belief will enhance their life. This is sufficient incentive, more often than not, for people to commit heinous crimes against their fellow man, and truly believe that their acts are justified. 

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Not Even a Day is Built in a Day


            There is a common phrase that reads, “Good things come to those who wait.” This expression is most likely rooted in the Bible, specifically in the book of Psalms.  After reading E.W. Harper’s “Learning to Read” and Charles Chestnutt’s “The Wife of his Youth,” I had to do some waiting before coming to a realization that was worthy of documentation.
            The woman named Chloe in Harper’s poem helped bring some specific Bible verses to mind. Psalm 27:14 says to “wait for the Lord; Be strong; and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord.” Chloe had to be patient and wait many years before she had the opportunity and freedom to learn to read. As Kaity Wegen said in her blog, there was not one specific “Aha!” moment, because gaining understanding of the poem was more of a “gradual process,” just as the process of literary freedom for slaves did not happen over night
            There is a female character in Chesnutt’s short story by the name of Liza Jane. She is very similar to Chloe in her patient waiting for what she knew to be true and worth waiting for. She had spent the last twenty-five years loyally searching for the husband of her youth after they had been separated during the war. Her faithfulness is comparable to Biblical faithfulness, especially in the book of Hebrews when Abraham’s faith and patience are tested. Liza Jane, just as Abraham, “after waiting patiently…received what was promised” (Hebrews 6:15).
            My final realization occurred when a parallel was drawn between the poem and the story. The lengthy struggle of patience and obedience that Chloe and Liza Jane endure embody the abolition movement. The cause of abolition did not appear overnight, and it took many years to bring awareness and support to the cause, but eventually they achieved their goal. The abolitionists faced innumerable obstacles, just as Liza Jane was doubted to “really…find her husband” (Chestnutt), and Chloe was told that she was “too late” (Harper) to waste her time attempting to learn to read at her old age.  The women’s unchanging devotion to their individual causes is the same devotion found among abolitionists to their cause. 

Thursday, October 20, 2011

The Paradox of Constant Change


History is an odd thing. You begin learning the history of your home country at a young age, then the history of your state, continent, and the entire earth (or what we have come to know of it). While you are learning all of this, you are also creating your own history, and seeing how it connects to the histories of others. The most prominent aspect of history that I have made note of is its tendency towards being paradoxical. Societies and individuals, politics and technology, and intelligence and wisdom are in a constant flux and reinvention of themselves with the forthcoming generations.  
     Awareness of this common thread throughout the history of the world allows parallels to be made within the ever-turning wheel of history. During the Era of Reconstruction, Americans were struggling to find their place in the society that they had once known to be completely different. Caucasians were now alongside African Americans and former slaves, working on brand new inventions, such as barbed wire and the lightbulb. Also accompanying them or working below them were even more immigrants from Ireland, China, and various other foreign countries that had come through Ellis Island seeking a better life for themselves and their families.
     Modern Americans are still living among similar happenings. Americans are now competing for and collaborating on jobs with many more immigrants from Asia, and now the Middle East as well. They are now producing computers, iPhones, MRI machines, and a million other new technologies that arise every single day. And what is the inherent goal that all of these Americans have? To achieve a better life for themselves and their families. History will always be the same, because the wheel of change will always be turning.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Journal 8, Option 1


When comparing and contrasting John Brown’s last speech and William Cullen Bryant’s “The Death of Lincoln,” a very specific image comes to mind. I picture John Brown, though nine years Abraham Lincoln’s senior, as a young boy in a crowd. His father has taken him to listen to a memorial for Lincoln where Bryant’s speech is read. Brown is so struck by the heroic imagery and martyrdom of Lincoln that Brown decides, at his juvenile age, to take up abolition as his cross to bear.  
If I continue this image of John Brown a few years further, he becomes obsessed with the cause of abolition and his desire to follow the footsteps of Lincoln. Brown’s life in the perspective of the American dream is one of passion. He has found something to build his life upon, and he will stop at nothing to achieve it. He is even willing to die for it, just as Lincoln did. Lincoln’s life in the perspective of the American Dream is very similar, except that he went about achieving his goals in a more organized and civil way. In this sense, Brown almost seems like the overshadowed younger brother of Lincoln, wanting to exceed his older sibling’s accomplishments and going rogue to pursue them.
Brown would probably have liked to believe that his life and death were comparable to Lincoln, especially the in Bryant’s poem. Lincoln is depicted as a martyr and Christ-like savior, liberating the slaves. This image of him appealed to the majority of Americans at this time, because the majority belonged to some branch of Christianity. If Lincoln was the sage of abolition and savior to slaves, then to John Brown he was God, calling Brown to further “remember them that are in bonds as bound with them” and calling him to “act up to that instruction” (1356).