Reflection to James Carroll's Christian Culture Lecture

Slowly but surely, I pushed myself down the sidewalk towards the O'Laughlin Auditorium. Forcing back a yawn and the lids of my eyes from fusing shut, I pulled my limp legs up the steps and into the auditiorium.
I sat down in a plush chair with velvet seats that felt like a cloud against my skin. I could have sworn these chairs didn't feel as good a month ago when I sat in them for orientation. I could feel myself slipping into sleep. I pinched my leg to keep myself awake.

This was going to be a long lecture.

After a few speakers made their introductions, James Carroll himself took to the stage. He was different than what I imagined, and his lecture was nothing at all like what I had in mind.
I first came upon this realization when he started talking about the middle east. How western christian culture was to blame, also how western christian culture was to blame for the Holocaust. That's when I snapped out of my sleepy funk, because, and correct me if I'm wrong, I could have sworn every history class I've taken since fifth grade claimed that disaster was caused by Hitler.

Of course, he had a connection that justified his claim. Unfortunatley, I personally wasn't educated enough and the Vatican 2 to gain a full understanding, but for the gist of what he said I really valued.
James Carroll, in an essence, stressed the importance of between piety and philosphy. In my Intro to Religion class, piety is described as the act of striclty following a religion, where as philosphy is the following of a belief. To paraphrase James Carroll, it is not our piety (practice of religion) that is important, but rather our philosphy (practice of beliefs). The way we practice our religion is not as important as how we live our lives. Jews, Catholics, Christians, Protestants, Muslums, and all religions out there, although differ in practice, their core beliefs are the same: God and his will.

God is God, no matter what name you call him. And his will, is the same no matter how it's phrased. If people of different religions and different political backgrounds put aside their differences, or better yet accepted them, the world could live in harmony. It is the goal of every religion to live their life in the imitation of God. If we focused on just that goal, living our lives in the light God shines for us, we wouldn't have the problems associated with the darkness that consumes us when we venture off "the path rigtheousness".

I walked out of that auditorium with a sense of being awakened, figuritivly speaking, because I was still tired.
But James Carroll's lecture did speak to me in a way I didn't expect it to. His speech, although about christian culture, was truly inspirational. Although I didn't take out of the lecture exactly what he wanted, I took out of the lecture a lesson that I will try to live by. To live my life, in the imatation of someone who was selfless, generous, kind, and ever forgiving- God.

A Not So Heavey Memoir

"The story is what saves us. And that is why, this soul can rejoice"~ James Carroll, An American Requim.

I have been able to make two connections between the memoirs of Maya Angelou and James Carroll: their power to heal and their deep material. Touching controversial topics like rape and war, both memoirs also  take place in the shadow of some of the greatest events in the 20th century. Mentioning WW2, the depression, and the socioeconomic status of various ethnicities: gives these memoirs a greater signifigance, because they offer insight to a personal account of that time. Although both reads have been intriguing to say the least, they've been very heavey in material. Thinking ahead about the memoir our class must write, I began to ask myself  "Do I have a story of memoir merit?" My life was not lived within an interesting moment in our nations history. I did not face any hardships nor encounter any prejudices nor anything of any importance. I tried to think of moments in my life I could use , but in order for one to know how to heal, they themselves must first be hurt. I've never experienced anything so traumatic that would need me to learn to heal.
So in defeat, I ventured off to the land of procrastination- Facebook.
Upon my venturing, I happend across a link. It was the story of a man, and a simple random act. Although light in material, it did have the power to heal. This man, by no means experienced anything as extreme as Angelou or Carroll, but his story had the power to heal and inspire people, including myself.

I thought that I didn't have a story worth telling, but I was wrong. Although I have not undergone anything as traumatic as Carroll and Angelou, I still have a story that has the power to heal. Because of this man's story, I am inspired to share my own. Funny thing is, he doesn't even remember it.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVCBrkrFrBE&fb_source=message

Silent Battles and Solitary Victories

Silent Battles and Solitary Victories

Inspired by I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

       The next chapter, the cross roads, the beginning to our story, or the golden years: pick any cliche you please, but college is more than just a time of carefree partying. It is a time of endless possiblities where even the most outrageous of aspirations does not seem as untangible as previously thought. It is a time where you can become the person you've always wanted to be, but for some reason never truly became. But obtaining these desires is easier said than done, this time, although full of possiblity, is filled with confusion. In a quest for our desires, we become lost along the way, and the path to our destiny is not as clear as a straight line. Possiblity and confusion isn't a great combo, and it's equation, one plus the other, equals something not so positive-doubt. How are we supposed to overcome the obstacles that life lays at our feet?

I found my answer through the story of a Maya Angelou.

Angelou's memoir is as unpredictable and intruging as any best selling novel, so much so that it's difficult to believe it's a true story. Throughout the book, the reader is aware of Maya's ending, success and acheivement, but after reading her story it's baffilng to believe that the Maya at the end of the memoir and the modern Maya are one of the same. Sure, everyone has the possiblity for success, but her obstacles were large in severity and quantity. Abandonment, racism, rape, homelessness, The Great Depression, stabbing, divorce, World War Two, and eventually her teen pregnancey: are all obstacles that alone would ruin someone's life.  Here I was, a college student just trying to get my legs in this world and seventeen year old Maya Angelou was bringing someone into the world.  How did she overcome her obstacles? Climb her mountains?

 And so began my quest for the truth.

 Skimming through the chapters turned into re-reading the pages which then turned into analyzing paragraphs which morphed into disecting sentences, I was ravinous for the truh. By the time my book was torn to shreds, I had found nothing. There was no secret, no cure all method to solving life's problems. Infact, it seemed as if she sometimes didn't overcome her obstacles at all. She just kept moving forward. Orginally, the discovery left me rather disappointed, but disappointment quickly faded into an epiphany. She did overcome her obstacles, but she did not destroy them, and none were the grand declerations of accomplishment I envisioned. Sparkling confetti did not fall from the sky, trumpets ceased to sound in fan fair, and no one congradulated her on climbing mountain after mountain. The only one who knew of Maya's accomplishments, was Maya.

Each time she overcame the barriers thrown into her path, she kept walking right up to the next obstacle, then would climb over it and proceed to march. Nothing laid on the otherside of the barrier to congradulate her, except a long endless road of possiblity, and unfortuantley, more barriers.  Discouragement after discouragement did she face, yet she kept trodding on in her unwavering march. The way she lived her life was the answer I was searching for. Overcoming your obstacles does not mean recieving anything in return for overcoming them. It means the chance for more possiblity. If we stop and refuse to climb, we are only hurting ourselves. We are not allowing ourselves the possiblity of a chance. We are freezing life and accepting it as is, instead of moving on to the possiblities life has in store for us. To overcome an obstacle does not mean to destroy it, but climb over it and keep marching.

College is a time of endless possiblities and barriers lying every where we turn. We don't know what is beyond those barriers, but we do know that if we stay stationary, we are denying ourselves the opprotunity of life, more barriers, and chance. Our aspirations are ours for the taking, if we dare pursue them, and the person we aspire to be already exists inside. It is our duty to let them lead the way, down the path, over barrier after barrier. Life is a journey filled with silent battles in which are victories are solitary celebrations, but what happens along the way, and the possiblity of someting more, are the reasons why we keep marching into battle.

Close Analysis of Girl Interrupted

According to Charles Darwin and his theroy of evoluiton, everything is a factor of its habitat. Giraffes have longer necks to reach food, the cheetah has retractable claws to increase speed, and polar bears have an extra layer of blubber for warmth. Along with these physical adaptions, animals can also develop behavioral adaptions. To put it simply, they form to fit the needs of their enviorment. My question is, does this law also apply to humans?
Do we adapt to acclimate to the enviorment we inhabitat?

Girl interrupted is the memoir of  Susanna Kaysen's 18-month stay within a mental institution. Susanna serves as both the narrator and main character of the story, and it is through her experiences that the term "crazy" is defined. Upon her admition, she denies accusations of suicide. Accusations that question her sanity. Although as the story progresses, she begins to see lunacey as a possiblity. The confidence she held about her sanity wavers as her stay within the mental hospital increases. Infact, at one point she even admits that she was suicidal and insane, quoting "I am a crazy girl". But after an encounter with her head nurse, Valarie, she believes in her own sanity again. The setting did not change, but what did change was what she was being told. Which leads one to believe, humans are not only a factor of their enviorment, but of others dwelling within their enviorment. This is shown through the film's presentation.

 The chronological order of the story and the narration give the film its personality. The film contains a series of flashbacks, infact, the film itself is an entire flashback being told by Susanna. This gives the viewer a sense that Susanna is personaly telling them her memory. Through her narration and perspective, we can percieve her decline into insantiy and rise out of it. Her sanity is also displayed through the color scheme used on set. When things are dark and grey, we know that she is mentally unstable. When colors are vibrant and alive, we know that she is coherent. More than anythinng else, Susanna's mental stuggles are displayed through the film's allusion to The Yellow Wall Paper. The parellels of Susanna and the narrator writing journals, being constantly diagnosed with different mental states, being held recluse against their will, and the struggle for control all too much display the effects an enviorment and the people in the enviorment have on other inhabitants. 

Both narrators were removed fromt their former enviorment and placed within a new one. They both molded to fit the part their new habitat had carved out for them - a mentally insane female. This image was reinforced by the other people within their habitat. Unlike the Giraffe's neck growing over time, their change was faster because they needed to adapt sooner. How else would they cope with the conditions they had to face, the way they were treated and the lunatic they were accused to be? In order for them to keep their sanity, they had to become insane.

We are the creation of factors beyond our control. And if we can't control anything, can we even control who we become?