Monthly Archives: January 2015

Currently reading/openings

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This weekend, I opened up one of my used books for American Lit to start reading it. The person who owned or rented it before me had written all over it. I usually find marks in books annoying, especially since I can’t stand writing in them myself. But her notes are amusing and sometimes even spot on. The remark that first caught my attention was on the page opposite the first page of prose. It says,” Why does he open with this?”

In all of my high school English classes (not so much my college ones), the teacher often started with a variant of this question when beginning a novel or short story. With The Raisin in the Sun, we discussed why Lorraine Hansberry took the title from Langston Hughe’s poem, “Harlem.” And with Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men, we talked about the nature filled opening. It is a common question for an English major to ask to themselves or out loud. But I think it is also a common question for humans to ask.

Sometimes it comes in different forms. “Why do we do this?” “Why do we do that?” Why when we greet each other do we say “Hello” or “Good morning/afternoon/evening?” Why do we not say “Eat well today!” or “Sleep well tonight!” Well, the answer is: because our normal greetings make sense and are expected.

But let’s return to the original question: “Why does (do) he (we) open with this?” We do not have a choice about how we start in this world, but we do have many other choices after that. That is one thing that I have learned: we have choices that we make every day, whether it be the clothes that we wear or the food we eat. Our beginning does matter, but our middle matters more. The end is simply a denouement, a resolution.

In case you are wondering, the book that I found this thought provoking remark in is Cane by Jean Toomer. Published in 1923, it is a collection of short stories, poems, and drama, all on the subject of black life in the South. It is not autobiographical, but quite a bit of it is informed by Toomer’s biracial identity and his brief stay in Georgia.

I will not say much about the book, except that it is not the easiest book to read and it is quite brilliant. One thing that I would recommend if you wanted to read it would be to research the Harlem Renaissance and Jean Toomer. It is not necessary, but I think it is nice to know the background of literature that is so tied to history.

That flighty temptress, adventure

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“And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.” -Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

Once again, I find myself preparing for another semester of college. Although I have become accustomed to life at a university, it is always challenging to go back and deal with the swells of homework.

I like new things. I like new books. I love new ideas, such as my idea for A Little Mermaid adaptation. I like my new apartment with a walking trail in my backyard.

But I like old things too. I don’t cling onto them like Gatsby clings onto Daisy in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel, but I do like looking at birthday cards from the past, letters from friends and family, books that have tape on the bindings and that distinct old paper smell.

As far as adventures go, I’m not exactly the one for them. Like Bilbo Baggins, in a way. I have been on a sailboat once before and my stomach told me that it wasn’t for me, but I love rafting, especially when there are rapids involved. And the one time I was on a cruise, I preferred going on the excursions rather than staying on the ship. And when I tell people that I don’t ski, even though I’m a native Coloradoan,  they are shocked. But I tell them that it’s way too expensive. And also it doesn’t really appeal to me. Give me a sled or hiking shoes or  a tent and I’m happy as a bear eating blackberries.

But adventures don’t have to be big. Actually I think the best of them are small and not monumental. I would count driving around just for the fun of it under this category, as well as going to restaurant with kinds of foods that you’ve never even thought of trying before (For example, I once had a carrot shake with ginger. It was delicious).

School is an adventure for me, even though I’ve been going to school for most of my life. Every day can be an adventure. And if every day is an adventure, can you ever really get bored?

 

An Act of Caring

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“Never doubt the power of a smile, a touch, a kind word, or any act of caring. All have the potential to turn a life around.” – unknown

Last year I was walking to my on-campus apartment when a small, silver car pulled up beside me and a girl jumped out. She was holding a red rose, which she gave to me with a smile. She didn’t say anything to me, just hopped back into the passenger’s seat. I waved at her and the driver and they drove away.

The rose was attached to a poem that I honestly can’t remember right now. I do remember that it was printed on a slip of paper with railroad tracks. I thought it was somewhat sappy, but also meaningful to have a picture of railroad tracks tied to a rose.

Because life is a journey. And every once in a while, we need kindness from strangers.

I was not having a bad day, but when I became stressed later that week, I just looked at the tiny rose that I was drying in my window and felt a little better.

I told my roommate about the random act of kindness that was given to me. She suggested that I should give the note along with chocolate or some small gift to someone on campus the next day.

I went to an all-girls high school and I loved it, mostly because it wasn’t unusual for a girl you had never seen before to stop you in the hallway to say hi or leave a note on your locker. It was a loving environment. Turns out that it is harder to give something to a complete stranger on a co-ed campus.

I managed to give a girl who looked just a little stressed a small bag of gummy bears attached to the poem that the girls had given me. On the back of the poem, I briefly explained how the railroad tracks had gotten to me and explained that by giving this present, I wanted to start a chain reaction of sorts. A chain of kindness.

I don’t know if she passed it on like I suggested or if she even saw the note. I would get it if she threw it away because strangers are scary. We have been taught to not to talk to strangers. And for a good reason. Not all strangers are kind.

But some strangers are the nicest, gentlest, most humble people you will ever meet. Like the guy that called security when I broke my leg and then stayed around until the paramedics came, the paramedics themselves, a man at the grocery store who picked up dropped cream cheese when my hands were too full, and the tow truck guy who let me sit in his truck to get warm and helped me find a tire company on New Year’s Day.

Actions don’t have to be big to mean a lot. They don’t always come with a new TV or a refurbished house. Meaningful actions can be as small as smiles, holding open doors, or pressing the button for your floor on the elevator. I don’t want to be sappy, but please be kind.