Happiness Poem

Over the damp sand, across the shore,
hand in hand, their loving hearts soar,
daylight or moonshine, regardless of which,
true lovers are happy.

Through the woods on a dark black night,
arms locked, hands clasped, and fingers laced tight,
starlight or none, it doesn't matter to either,
true lovers are happy.

Living in a box, or in a mansion on a hilltop,
a huge diamond ring, or a simple string tied in a knot,
is happiness only materialistic?
because true lovers are always happy.

In sickness or in health, poverty or wealth,
close together or miles away, whatever they are dealt,
as long as they have one another,
true lovers are happy.

1984 Prediction

Chapter ten was filled with surprises showing how Mr. Charrington was really a member of the thought police and how they were being watched and listened to through a telescreen behind a picture on the wall. I didn't see any of this coming.

In the next book I believe that Julia will be questioned and give herself up as being a part of the brotherhood along with Martin and O'Brien. However, with her love for Winston being so strong she will not give him up to try and save him. After this Julia will be killed, but Winston will have hope. To stay alive he will make a deal to become a member of the thought police. From this position he will be able to corrupt the minds of the party, and with help from the proles and the brotherhood, be able to overthrow the party.

Genetic Engineering

With technology advancing quicker than ever right before the public’s eyes, one begins to wonder where the line is to be drawn between letting nature take its course, and allowing humans to have their own options. After reading parts of Brave New World, one can see the effects of human control, and although there are many positive sides to that society, in the long run, the negatives outweigh the benefits. Parents should by no means be able to genetically alter their children.

Although genetically altering children would probably eliminate many diseases and/or disorders that a child may come to have, we tend to forget how sickness becomes a part of who we are. Without sickness as a young child, we would have probably never had to experience pain. Without pain, how could one experience pleasure? As many today say, “what doesn’t kill, makes one stronger” and being strong is definitely not a bad thing.

It would be a wonderful thing to be able to choose your child’s gender, hair color, body type, and even brain power, but how many people would choose to make their child a chubby, dark haired, female with mental retardation? If these capabilities got into the wrong hands, someone could make a bloodthirsty army of intelligent, strong, fierce, males and destroy the world. Or parents would all choose to have intelligent good looking children, and everyone would eventually be exactly the same. You wouldn’t have anyone to look up to, or any dreams to accomplish, because everyone would be doing the same thing. If everyone was a genius, there wouldn’t be any geniuses because there would be no one less intelligent to compare them to.

In Brave New World, the ability to genetically alter embryos was used to create a “structured” society with predetermined castes and jobs for each individual. So if you are born to the low end of the caste system, you will have nothing to aspire for, because you will only be a moron, and will only run an elevator for your entire life. This type of society becomes especially disturbing when one of the individuals doesn’t fit in, or begins to wonder what his life would be like if he were higher up in the caste system.

By allowing nature to take its course, true beauty is achieved through good and bad qualities mixed. Without the bad, there would be no good, because the good would just be ordinary without anything else to judge it against. By allowing parents to genetically alter their children, it seems as if parents gain more freedom, but in actuality it takes the freedom from nature, from chance, and from God.

This I Believe

There’s been talk about animals possessing a sixth sense and I believe my story might prove it. I believe puppies have healing powers. When I was about ten years old, my biological parents got a divorce and my younger sister and I moved from our house to a cramped apartment with our mother. Coping with the change was very difficult, but after a few months we got used to the fact that we would always be in each other’s way and that all three of us would have to use the only bathroom at the exact same time. After a few years though, our mother got married, and not only was there a new addition to the family but there was a reduction of our already limited privacy and space in the apartment. We were always at each other’s throat.

After a terrible year filled with stepping on each other’s toes, we moved to a huge old house in a nice neighborhood. Things seemed to be much better with the extra space until we couldn’t afford to keep the heat blasting like we could in our old apartment. We would all be in each other’s way again huddling under blankets in our living room, the only room that was sort of warm. We fought over what we’d watch on TV, who spent too much time on the computer, who had the biggest blanket too long, and so on. The list was endless. If there was any sort of disagreement, everyone in the house, and sometimes a few of our neighbors knew about it.
Thing carried on this way until the summer when all rooms in our big old house were sweltering hot, so we all spent most of our time in our air conditioned living room. We fought over who got the biggest couch, whose food smelled worse, and who did too much laundry. The fighting and bickering was endless. It seemed that our new family was hopeless and my mother even feared that her husband, my new step father would leave.

No one wanted to be home. My sister and I would leave to go to the movies and come home late, which (as you can probably imagine) only made matters worse. Our mother and step father would work overtime every chance they got as to avoid unnecessary fighting at home. Our family was falling apart. We were all sick of each other, and there was none of that family closeness left.

When our friends would hang up with their parents we’d always dread hearing their “I love you too mom” or “Miss you daddy”. And seeing anyone kiss their family goodbye made us cringe because we secretly longed for that at home. Both my sister and my grades dropped, and my own depression became severely bad.

Nearing the Christmas holiday one night, my mother called and asked me to go near my sister and put the phone on speaker. She proceeded to ask my sister and I to sit in our living room with the Christmas tree lights on, and to pretend it was Christmas Eve. She asked us to wait quietly and keep our eyes closed tight. Then, she hung up and we heard our front door unlock. My sister and I squeezed our eyes shut excited for what we hoped was an early Christmas present. We could feel a slight breeze as she and our step father walked silently into the room.

My mother reminded us to keep our eyes shut. Then she gave us a little heartwarming speech that basically told us that this surprise was pretty much from our step father because it was his idea and he had coaxed her to do it for us. She pleaded that we all try our best to get along and not to give up hope for our family. Then she said “okay, open your eyes,” and in our step father’s arms peeking out of his jacket was a tiny black puppy.

Almost immediately, the puppy had an effect on my younger sister and I, as we jumped to hug and kiss our mother and stepfather. We had wanted a puppy so badly but we knew we could only dream of getting one. We were so thankful, and we both knew we’d have some more respect for our stepfather and we’d be more grateful towards our mother. The puppy’s tail wagged back and forth as he kissed my sister and I on the nose.

The puppy, who had come with the name TJ, brought our family together and we watched puppy training videos, took turns teaching him new tricks, and dressed him up to take a photo for our Christmas card. Our love for the little puppy grew and grew. It was something that each family member had in common and we could all relate to. We began to recognize that although we had a lot of differences, concentrating on our similarities would make it much easier to get along. The little puppy brought joy into our house and into each of our hearts.

TJ knows when something is wrong too. When we fight, he lays down and gives us these puppy eyes that we know mean “stop fighting!” Then he kisses us when the fighting stops and helps us to realize that getting along, even though it takes some work, is the right thing to do.

It has only been a few months since TJ healed our broken family, but I hope, like I’m sure my family does as well, that he will continue to bring us together.

Becoming Responsible (in Holden's voice)

For my sixteenth birthday, I wasn't expecting a car or any of the rich kid garbage. I wasn't expecting a surprise party with all of my friends there or anything, and I definitely wasn't expecting what my mom managed to buy me. That morning, nobody said a word to me, no
"Happy Birthday", nothin'. Since the special day is on Valentine's Day, I assumed everyone just forgot. Yeah, they probably just all forgot. There were red roses on the table, because whoever bought them had no idea that $39.95 was ridiculous for some plain old roses. They were almost dead too. The moron who bought them probably had nothing else to give when they woke up in the morning and realized what day it was. I bet whoever saw them got a real bang out of 'em though. So the rest of the day I don't remember so hot. Everything's sorta fuzzy mixed in with other birthdays and all. So I'll just tell what I remember best.

I remember my mom handing me this present, a tiny present. Most likely some lousy jewelry, I thought, and a card. The card was one of those special ones where it said not only "Happy Valentine's Day" but "Happy Birthday" as well. We talked for like and hour about how hard it was to find that type of card. How my mom looked all over. She was so proud, but I didn't mind. I was glad she was happy.

So finally I got around to opening the small present. I remember it was wrapped in that shiny paper that actually made your eyes sort of hurt if you looked at it for too long. I remember slowly peeling off the tape so that I didn't rip the pretty paper. And then I saw it. Nestled in that annoying white fuzzy stuff they put in the boxes that hold the nice jewelry. A beautiful diamond ring. But before I could even touch it, I didn't even get to try it on, my mom grabbed it out of my hands and explained to me that it was a real diamond, like a wedding-ring-expensive diamond. She kept talking to me about responsibility, responsibility, responsibility.

I couldn't stop staring at it though. It was a silver tone, but it was really "white gold". I don't understand how they can call it white gold if it's silver-looking. I just don't understand things like that. One either side, it had three hearts cut out of the band which made it special for my birthday because it was Valentine's Day. And most of all, it sparkled like no other. I always wondered if the sun hit it just right if it would shine all the way into outer space. It probably would. This diamond shined more than I can even tell you. But like my mother said, with the ring came responsibility. Like if I took that Goddamn ring off, I had better know damn sure where it was at all times. Mom always said that I would lose my head if it wasn't attached. It makes me wonder why she got me a nice diamond for being sixteen.

But it wasn't all about that type of responsibility. It was about growing up. Sixteen was a big deal. I even got my big bad permit. Every single time I had to make a helluva decision, like peer pressure decisions, I looked down at that ring, sparkling away, and thought about the consequences. The ring fit me just right, which I was happy about because I didn't have to keep spinning it around with my other fingers. If it were a bit wider, I could probably have seen my reflection in it. Not a mirror-type reflection, but a reflection like the kind you see in water.

Best of all, it was real. This wasn't a ring that would turn your finger green or one that would chip and never be the same again. No, this was a real diamond ring, and this one came with responsibility. Personally, even though I adore that ring, I don't believe it was such a good idea for a present for me, since I am pretty forgetful. Maybe my mom though it would change that. I'm not sure. I know that she was trusting me though, and I knew I would never lose this damn ring.

When I had a bad day, I would look down and see the shimmering diamond and remember to be positive. it would remind me of my mother's new trust for me and all of my new responsibilities as a young adult.

You know what? I still wear my diamond ring too, and its almost a full two years later. It still reminds me of my future, and its flashy sparkle still makes me smile when I am blue. I still get a real bang out of people's reactions when I tell them its a real diamond. And I get a bang out of feeling like a responsible young woman too.

"Courage is one step ahead of fear."

This quote by Coleman Young is not only very controversial, but is supported greatly by the memoir In My Hands by Irene Gut Opdyke. In the memoir, Irene is constantly fearful of being separated from her family, and she even holds with her the fear of losing her life. Irene lives in a very difficult time of war and all of the circumstances are unclear to her. The Germans are after the Jews and Irene sees many of them slaughtered one day at her Job working in a kitchen at a factory for the Germans. From that point on, she realizes that she is better off than many other people. She is well fed, has a place to sleep at night, and is not forced to slave away for fear of being shot.
Although Irene has been through quite a bit up to this point, she makes it a point to begin making a difference. Even the slightest difference is a difference. She begins courageously hiding food under a fence at a ghetto camp for the Jews. Although she is risking her life, because as Schulz, Irene's boss said, "Bad things happen to Jew-lovers. Do you understand me? Very bad"(103).
So why does Irene risk her life when she is so fearful that what she is doing could lead to her death? The answer is the quote, "courage is one step ahead of fear". Being a helpless young girl, and fearing that each of her kind acts toward those Jews suffering in the camps would lead to her death, was nothing compared to her courage. Irene's courage took over all of her fears, including her lingering thought that she was only a girl, and there was not much she could do to help.
And courage is not only with Irene in this memoir. No, courage conquers fear in almost all of the characters. In Schultz who is kind to Irene, and even takes her out to buy a pair of boots so that she can walk to work. He lets Irene's sister Janina help out in the kitchen when she loses her job. Courage is with all of the Jews as they conquer their fear of dying, and hold on to their lives. It is with them when they work, when they see others die right before their eyes for not working, when they wake up in the morning, and when they rest at night.
Courage is very important to all of the characters in In My Hands, even including the Germans. Is courage always one step ahead of fear though? Probably not. This is where the quote is controversial. The memoir does show, though, that when courage is one step ahead of fear, great things can be accomplished.