Though I believe Kimberly Chang began her coming-of-age process as soon as her feet hit American soil, there is clearly a difference in her from the beginning to the end of the book Girl In Translation. Alongside the many differences though, there are many similarities between adult and child Kimberly. I feel like being a kid is a time we all cherish, and though we come-of-age, we never completely get rid of it. Many parts of us as a kid actually follow us into our adult life, whether prominent in who-we-are or just another one of our hidden personalities.
An aspect of child Kim that seems to creep up on us in adulthood is being insecure and wanting to fit in. “It became harder and harder to pull the sweater over all the under-layers I wore (unlike the other girls), but I had no choice.” This feeling of needing to be like the other kids is one I know well. Though I am far from being poor, I am not the most ‘in-with-the-trends’ and find it hard to deal with the other kids that will laugh at you if you aren’t. I think we all want to be normal, since then you can live under the radar without any negative attention. This happens more so when you’re a kid and a teenager though. It’s human nature to want to ‘fit-in’ and be normal, but as an adult you know yourself better and are more stable overall.
A second trait of Kim’s that follows her into adulthood shows when Kim goes to school in America for the first time. She gets outcasted, accused of cheating, and naturally becomes very upset. “After my talk with Ma about Mr.Bogart, I did what any sensible kid would do: I started playing hooky.” Instead of solving the problem (by maybe talking to Mr. Bogart about her trouble accustoming to American culture), she decides to cut school. Though this could be looked at as a form of rebellion, in the context she does this action in, I don’t consider it rebellion. She is not trying to make the authority (her mother and teacher) angry, she is trying to hide from her problem. Though hiding from any problem is a childish thing to do, Kim does something very similar in the end of the book. When she becomes pregnant at age 18, she doesn’t tell Matt, the father, in fear of making a bigger deal out of it. She didn’t want to “Tye him to her with a baby”, so she runs off to Yale, being a college student by day and a mother by night. Adults and parents are supposed to be the people that solve problems and face their duties, but as Kim matures, she still hangs on to her childhood shy and scared self.
The last way Kim acts like a child is by being afraid to stand-up for herself. Now, I say that like it is an easy thing, which it’s not, but another part of coming-of-age is being able to take care of yourself in a world that does not always play in your favor. When Kim and her mother treat themselves to ice-cream, they get ripped off, and they both know it. “When he rang up the price, it was three times more than it said on the carton...I didn’t know if I should speak up or how you complained about prices in English, so I kept silent as well.” The interesting part is that her mother, who in theory has already experienced her coming-of-age, didn’t stand up for herself or say anything either. I guess none of us completely turn into an ‘adults’, since most times it is just so much easier to be a kid.
As I flipped back through the pages of my book, I realized that many aspects of being a kid follow you to your adult life. Though I would like to think that as an adult you are always in control, that’s not true. As I read about Kim getting scared as a police called from behind, I immediately thought Not ready to be an adult and play it cool yet, huh? After some thought, I realized most people, kids or adults, would be scared in a situation like that. I also need to give credit to Kim for having to experience her coming-of-age in a completely foreign place with a very different language and culture. Coming-of-age means changing, but more in the way that you build on what you already know. Though being a kid and being an adult are so very different, and coming-of-age feels like a slap in the face sometimes, we always have a part in us that still wants our old teddy-bear to hug or our mommies to tuck us into bed at night.
Showing posts with label analyzing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label analyzing. Show all posts
Monday, May 16, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
FINAL response on "My Papa's Waltz'
Recently we read “My Papa’s Waltz”. I read this poem last year, and immediately remembered the tranquil and sad feeling I got the first few times I read it. This time around, though I still kept in mind what I thought about the poem last year, I made new connections that in some ways reflects what is going on in my life now. Interesting how poems can do that, huh? Anyway, last year I associated the poem pretty immediately with heavy drinking and abuse. T hough I still think the child is getting hurt and the father is at least tipsy, I am more open to the emotional and beautiful side of the poem. The little boy clings onto his fathers shirt through romping and stumbling around. Even with all the ‘drama’ of having a tipsy father, the little boy may see his drunken stumbling as playing, and his pushes and light hits as dance directions. The son may be getting hurt, but the little boy calls this a waltz because it is hard for people to see the bad in their parents.
I’ll start with backing up to the father being tipsy/drunk. The little boy says that there is “whiskey on your [his father’s] breath to make a small boy dizzy,” (line 2) possibly the small boy being himself. Though having whiskey on your breath doesn’t automatically make you drunk, when there is enough to “make a small boy dizzy,” yes not uncomfortable but DIZZY, something is up. Also, “every step you miss” (line 11) indicates that the father may not be completely aware of his surroundings. Another thing that leads to the father being at least tipsy is that the father is dirty with a “palm caked hard by dirt,” (line 14). Having a battered knuckle could mean that either the father is a construction worker as Charlie suggested in class, or that the dirt is from being out late, roaming the streets in a drunken frenzy, getting into some messy tussles here and there.
Another belief I have is that, whether purposely or not, the father is hurting the son. “My right right ear scraped a buckle” (line 12) sounds pretty harsh, and “you beat time on my head” (line 13) could mean a number of things, from hurting the boy physically to threats of memories and the future. Also, people say that since the mother is pretty much just being a bystander, the father isn’t drunk and isn’t hurting his son. If the father was hurting his son, the mother would do something, right? Well, I hate to break it to people, but not everyone is brave. What if the ‘papa’ drinks a lot, and in the past has hit the mother, too? From mother’s we expect there to be a lot of protection for their children, especially growing up in gentle Park Slope. What about protecting yourself? This poem, to me, seems as if it took place at least a few decades ago, when it was more common for mother’s and father’s to be more ‘disciplinarian’ toward their children, and men to be more hostile with women. The mother may be scared for her own self, and may not want to make the scene worse by cutting in.
I also believe that the waltz is actually the father staggering around while his son clings to him. “Romping” (line 5) means acting in a rough and noisy (boisterous) way, which could show up if the son is clinging on, and the father is angry and wants him off. The boy also says “BUT I hung on like DEATH,” (line 3). The fact that the son used the word ‘death’ rather than something like ‘I hung on tight’ shows that possibly he is in a situation not so far from what brings death, or what emotions come with death. Maybe the boy doesn’t exactly know what being drunk is, but he is scared of his papa staggering and trying to push him away.
Adding on to my previous point, usually when people say ‘but’, they are trying to justify or explain something. In the poem’s context, what is being explained or justified is that the whiskey on the father’s breath could make a small boy dizzy. The thing about this poem that I truly find so beautiful and true is that the little boy clearly loves his father. Whether actually dancing or getting abused, and being with a drunk or just tipsy father, the little boy wants to dance and play with him. He defends the whiskey on the breath, and clings on to him for dear life, whether for support or simply wanting love when ‘waltzing’ and being sent to bed. As I mentioned, for us (especially little boys, but even me sometimes), we look up to our parents, and so we find it hard to fault them. No matter what, (hopefully), we love our parents even if they ground us, take away the computer, etc. We all as teenagers have those times of ‘No one understands me!’ or ‘WHATEVER MOM!’ and then the occasional ‘I hate you!’, but how can we truly hate the people that would give up so much for us? The son may be in risk of getting seriously hurt by his drunk dad, but instead of thinking of that, he thinks his father’s staggers and pushes are a dance or waltz of a kind. The waltz of a son and his father.
I’ll start with backing up to the father being tipsy/drunk. The little boy says that there is “whiskey on your [his father’s] breath to make a small boy dizzy,” (line 2) possibly the small boy being himself. Though having whiskey on your breath doesn’t automatically make you drunk, when there is enough to “make a small boy dizzy,” yes not uncomfortable but DIZZY, something is up. Also, “every step you miss” (line 11) indicates that the father may not be completely aware of his surroundings. Another thing that leads to the father being at least tipsy is that the father is dirty with a “palm caked hard by dirt,” (line 14). Having a battered knuckle could mean that either the father is a construction worker as Charlie suggested in class, or that the dirt is from being out late, roaming the streets in a drunken frenzy, getting into some messy tussles here and there.
Another belief I have is that, whether purposely or not, the father is hurting the son. “My right right ear scraped a buckle” (line 12) sounds pretty harsh, and “you beat time on my head” (line 13) could mean a number of things, from hurting the boy physically to threats of memories and the future. Also, people say that since the mother is pretty much just being a bystander, the father isn’t drunk and isn’t hurting his son. If the father was hurting his son, the mother would do something, right? Well, I hate to break it to people, but not everyone is brave. What if the ‘papa’ drinks a lot, and in the past has hit the mother, too? From mother’s we expect there to be a lot of protection for their children, especially growing up in gentle Park Slope. What about protecting yourself? This poem, to me, seems as if it took place at least a few decades ago, when it was more common for mother’s and father’s to be more ‘disciplinarian’ toward their children, and men to be more hostile with women. The mother may be scared for her own self, and may not want to make the scene worse by cutting in.
I also believe that the waltz is actually the father staggering around while his son clings to him. “Romping” (line 5) means acting in a rough and noisy (boisterous) way, which could show up if the son is clinging on, and the father is angry and wants him off. The boy also says “BUT I hung on like DEATH,” (line 3). The fact that the son used the word ‘death’ rather than something like ‘I hung on tight’ shows that possibly he is in a situation not so far from what brings death, or what emotions come with death. Maybe the boy doesn’t exactly know what being drunk is, but he is scared of his papa staggering and trying to push him away.
Adding on to my previous point, usually when people say ‘but’, they are trying to justify or explain something. In the poem’s context, what is being explained or justified is that the whiskey on the father’s breath could make a small boy dizzy. The thing about this poem that I truly find so beautiful and true is that the little boy clearly loves his father. Whether actually dancing or getting abused, and being with a drunk or just tipsy father, the little boy wants to dance and play with him. He defends the whiskey on the breath, and clings on to him for dear life, whether for support or simply wanting love when ‘waltzing’ and being sent to bed. As I mentioned, for us (especially little boys, but even me sometimes), we look up to our parents, and so we find it hard to fault them. No matter what, (hopefully), we love our parents even if they ground us, take away the computer, etc. We all as teenagers have those times of ‘No one understands me!’ or ‘WHATEVER MOM!’ and then the occasional ‘I hate you!’, but how can we truly hate the people that would give up so much for us? The son may be in risk of getting seriously hurt by his drunk dad, but instead of thinking of that, he thinks his father’s staggers and pushes are a dance or waltz of a kind. The waltz of a son and his father.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Poem off of 9/11 photo
Once was America
2 down
A whole country to go
It's a beautiful day
A great day to kill
or starve a wife of love
and frighten a kid
when their mommy doesn't come pick them up from their clean and bright haven
maybe panic a nation
when hundreds die
under their pointed-up noses
We are the best
we are the beast
we hate them
they take and take and never give back
they put us in hell
so now
here and now
finally
we give it back
throw it in their faces
we will no longer live under their rule
we have come to conquer everything
from the moon to the core
the blazing hot core they believe they had a right to put a price tag on
we were here first
we will do the living
free from the chains of so-called democracy
they will regret all they ever did to me
me and my people
my country
my world
our world
they sit their running and screaming
asking what oh what lord did they do to deserve this
I will tell them
I will tell them loud and proud
we are the best
we are the beast
ha-ha
photo
photo credits to Rafael Fuchs, my father, shot as a view of 9.11 on 9.11
2 down
A whole country to go
It's a beautiful day
A great day to kill
or starve a wife of love
and frighten a kid
when their mommy doesn't come pick them up from their clean and bright haven
maybe panic a nation
when hundreds die
under their pointed-up noses
We are the best
we are the beast
we hate them
they take and take and never give back
they put us in hell
so now
here and now
finally
we give it back
throw it in their faces
we will no longer live under their rule
we have come to conquer everything
from the moon to the core
the blazing hot core they believe they had a right to put a price tag on
we were here first
we will do the living
free from the chains of so-called democracy
they will regret all they ever did to me
me and my people
my country
my world
our world
they sit their running and screaming
asking what oh what lord did they do to deserve this
I will tell them
I will tell them loud and proud
we are the best
we are the beast
ha-ha
photo
photo credits to Rafael Fuchs, my father, shot as a view of 9.11 on 9.11
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Response to Anne Sexton's "The Starry Night"
An aggressive peace, the words I think best capture the essence of emotion of Anne Sexton in her poem Starry Night. She frequently talks about dying, and getting swallowed, boiled, drowned, and isolated from the town down below, all things that can point to major anger and depression. But at the same time, through the anger, she sees the beauty of the starry night, with ‘no belly or cry’, alive parts of nature, and stars shining bright. Can we see beauty through even the most complicated and depressing (for lack of a better word) things?
In The Starry Night, it seems as if Anne is acknowledging that she is upset. In a way, being aware of your feelings calms you, giving us a sense of security. When we are angry, some like to let it boil down and maybe have some alone-time, where being isolated isn’t such a problem. We can all be our worst enemies, and sometimes when we can just think freely we can come to terms with ourselves, instead of storming off in a rage because of our anger, trying to punch someone. Maybe Anne isn’t so much of a crazy suicidal, but just trying to relate her feelings to the things around her. I know when I am angry, I think about dying. Ok, well, maybe less dying, and more simply leaving where we are and who we are, and being an observer (possibly on a hill looking down at a town and up at the stars, like Van Gogh). Dying is a natural part of life, it just happens to be what most people believe to be the end of our cycle, end equalling yikes.
At the same time though, we learned that Anne committed suicide! Huh. Interesting. I must say, some parts of suicide are sort of creepily simple. You control who you are, so why not control how you go? I know suicide usually makes people shudder, but is it always wrong and plain awful? Yes yes, it’s complicated, but maybe through Anne’s repeated ‘This is how/I want to die’ she was trying to say their is a beauty to death. It can be so peaceful, and even though she actually committed suicide from carbon monoxide poisoning in a locked car, drunk, you have to give her applause for coming up with a death that many people would be happy to live through. We all just believe what we see in movies, but in truth, death doesn’t have to be so bad, and anger doesn’t have to be so violent.
In The Starry Night, it seems as if Anne is acknowledging that she is upset. In a way, being aware of your feelings calms you, giving us a sense of security. When we are angry, some like to let it boil down and maybe have some alone-time, where being isolated isn’t such a problem. We can all be our worst enemies, and sometimes when we can just think freely we can come to terms with ourselves, instead of storming off in a rage because of our anger, trying to punch someone. Maybe Anne isn’t so much of a crazy suicidal, but just trying to relate her feelings to the things around her. I know when I am angry, I think about dying. Ok, well, maybe less dying, and more simply leaving where we are and who we are, and being an observer (possibly on a hill looking down at a town and up at the stars, like Van Gogh). Dying is a natural part of life, it just happens to be what most people believe to be the end of our cycle, end equalling yikes.
At the same time though, we learned that Anne committed suicide! Huh. Interesting. I must say, some parts of suicide are sort of creepily simple. You control who you are, so why not control how you go? I know suicide usually makes people shudder, but is it always wrong and plain awful? Yes yes, it’s complicated, but maybe through Anne’s repeated ‘This is how/I want to die’ she was trying to say their is a beauty to death. It can be so peaceful, and even though she actually committed suicide from carbon monoxide poisoning in a locked car, drunk, you have to give her applause for coming up with a death that many people would be happy to live through. We all just believe what we see in movies, but in truth, death doesn’t have to be so bad, and anger doesn’t have to be so violent.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Analyzing Paintings
Painting: 'Landscape of Butterflies' by Salvador Dali
Observations
- wall of some sort is blocking out blue skies
- butterflies' shadows are distorted a bit
- butterflies are glowing
- small mountains in background
- butterflies are flying to get deeper in protection (?) of the wall
Inferences
- since they are flying more into wall, the wall may be protecting the butterflies
- the mountains and sky are some sort of reality, and maybe the shadows being distorted are showing how that reality is breaking
- the clouds in the sky represent a troubling thing
- the butterflies are (or think they are) in a better place than they were, with the wall protecting them
- mountains may represent past emotions or events
Interpretations
I think Dali is trying to say here is that when something upsets us, we believe that if we escape, everything will be ok again. The distorted shadows represent who the butterflies truly are, and we always try to leave behind who we are if we think we aren't good enough or are too afraid to take the next steps in our life. We as people tend to give in to critique and build an internal wall to try and stop it from hitting us, sometimes only working in the opposite way. We think disconnecting ourselves from the world will save us (hence the glowing of the butterflies), but really it hurts us even more.
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