Self Evaluation

As far as the grade I think I deserve, I hope I am overstepping when I say that I think that I deserve an A in the class. I have completed most of the assignments that you have given out. I think that I improved in forming cohesive and coherent papers and blog posts. When I began this semester, I was not aware of where this class would take me as far as growth in writing. I have to admit that I was in somewhat of a writing slump when the school year began. This class, I think, got my creative writing juices flowing again. I feel like I had to put a great deal of effort into this class. A good many of the assignments I had to write required me to reach into myself and pull out memories that were not always good. I also had to pull out descriptions and phrases and colloquialisms and ways of writing that I did not know that I had in me. I have always been completely truthful in all of my posts and have created them to the best of my ability. If you recall reading my posts and essays from the very beginning of class, I have always remained as honest as possible. I think that that is part of what made my writing stronger. I felt that I had no need to hide anything or fudge the truth in any way, which made me pour myself into my writing. At certain times I did not even have to think about what I was writing. In some cases, that was the best thing. This was when ideas words and the statements I wanted to make flowed freely out of me. The free writes, I think, were the most honest versions of me.

The Media Made Me Do It

I believe that I have a very special and deep rooted relationship with the subject of media and consumerism. Ever since I can remember, I have been bombarded on a daily basis with the media, although, these occurrences were never truly realized until recently. My relationship with media and consumerism comes from television, internet, and the hand I had in it as well.
With television, I have always had a relationship with it. Ever since I can remember I was plopped in front of a television whether it was getting ready for school, watching Saturday morning cartoons, or simply out of boredom. This, I think, was the start of my consumer life. During the commercials of these shows the broadcasting companies would play commercials whose target demographic was children. I would constantly ask my mom if I could have the new Barbie. Then I would ask if I could have her outfits and matching convertible and all of her friends. Within a short amount of time, between segments of shows, at least three commercials are played. Within that time, companies successfully lured me along with millions of other children into desiring what they were selling. The shows themselves were a way in which the relationship between media and consumerism and me was thickened. The shows I watched made me want to buy products with their images on it when I went shopping with my mother. I wanted shoes or a shirt that a certain character wore. They had things that I wanted. My high school math teacher told me that when Christmas or birthdays come around, his children do not know what to ask for. This is because he does not let his kids watch television so they never see commercials. They do not know what to ask for because they do not know what the latest toy or gadget is. In a way, I think it preserves their innocence for just that little while longer, not being exposed to all the heaviness of consumerism as much as the rest of us.
The internet plays a large role in my life and my relationship to media and consumerism. First of all, every website you go to has numerous ads that try to get you to visit their site and buy their product. Everyone is trying to sell something of some sort in the internet. There are few things that are not accessible through the internet. You can get news from various sources as well as television and pretty much whatever your heart desires. I spend a great deal of time in the internet. One thing that the internet does is feed my consumer needs. As well as finding anything on the internet, you can buy almost anything on the internet as well. Within the last month, I have already purchased four items on the internet. It makes it so easy to shop and spend. It is also easy to get sucked into a whole virtual world in which you can spend hours at a time looking at the most random things from court case documents to pictures of cats in sweaters.
Another way in which I am attached to media and consumerism is through being on the producing end of it. I was Editor in Chief of my high school’s newspaper and for three years I worked to bring a source of media to the student population as well as the faculty and administration. I always tried to be as objective as possible, but it was not hard to make sure my audience clearly knew what angle I was taking. Every article has a bias and it was not hard to quote people with similar opinions to make articles lean towards a certain way. I also had to design advertisements for businesses who bought space in the paper. It was my job to make my target demographic want to buy these products or visit these places. I even redesigned the whole paper with a new name, different layouts and segments, and fonts sans serif to make it more modern so that the students would be more interested. My hand in the media gave me a better understanding of how media and consumerism operated and how it impacted me.
Media and consumerism is a part of everyone’s lives. Apart from living as a hermit in the base of a mountain, there is no real way to escape it. There are many different aspects of media that we do not always realize penetrate our lives. As much as I would not like to admit it, I am somewhat of a slave to consumerism what it has to offer.

10:30am |||Painting Description-Frida Kahlo|||

The earthy tones of the landscape stretch into mountains in the horizons where they meet the blue and white sky. The woman in the foreground is lying on her side. There is a white pillow underneath an arm which props up her head. Her thick black hair covers most of it. The look on her face looks stern yet soft in a sort of contemplative way and is embellished by her unibrow. Her orange, yellow, and white dress flows down to below her feet as if she is being engulfed in a fire of fabric. Green leaves and their roots seem to be flowing out of her and connect with the ground as well as the surrounding landscape. She is thinking. She has thoughts of where she came from and how she got to be where she is.

10:30am |||Mustard Tiger/Cheeseburger Locker|||

Mustard Tiger

A Mustard Tiger is a term used to describe a very large, strong person, typically the "hunter" or alpha male who very animalistically eats hotdogs, causing mustard to get all over his face.

Cheeseburger Locker

The Cheeseburger Locker is a large back end on a person that is filled with cellulite. When a person eats a cheeseburger, the fat content goes straight to the arse, staying in place for years. The buttox will hold the fat (cheeseburger) in place until taken out via exercise or liposuction.

10:30am |||"Perfect" Article|||

While researching the topic for my paper, the title of the “perfect” article would be “Sex and Advertisement: A guide to sex in commercial advertisement, what it means and how it affects our way of thinking.” The article would outline what sort of techniques advertisers use when they have sexual content in commercials. It would also explain why they use it and what messages are commonly portrayed in these commercials. The article would give statistics of the companies I am researching to show sales and profits over the last year. It would also explain and give sources of how the images we see on screen affect how we think about ourselves, society, and the opposite gender.

Nostaglia essay

I am not certain if this qualifies as an object, but something that holds a great deal of meaning to me is my tattoo. It is inked behind my ear and is an outline of the beloved Disney character, Mickey Mouse. The outline is simple and black, but I cherish it dearly. Mickey Mouse is the symbol of Disney, but more importantly, it holds a lot of good memories of my past as well as parts of my present and hopefully, the future.
I grew up on Southern California less than an hour’s drive from Disneyland in Anaheim. When I was little, I would make at least one trip a year to the theme park. As I grew older, my visits to Disneyland became more frequent and increased to approximately once or twice a month. I grew up watching and experiencing Disney and Disneyland. Some of my favorite movies are Disney movies. I remember watching The Lion King so much that the film of the VHS started to warp and the pictures began to become distorted. Even now, at college, my friends and I watch Disney movies all the time.
I love everything about Disneyland. I love the noises and the sights and the smells and the people. My family has a little tradition whenever we go to Disneyland. During the fireworks show, which is absolutely amazing to watch, a couple of us will leave early to save seats near the river surrounding Tom Sawyer Island while the rest go to a restaurant in New Orleans Square to buy hot chocolate for the group. We meet up and watch the show, Fantasmic together. I have been doing this since I was a child. Every time I watch it I get such a pang of nostalgia that I simply cannot contain myself. We all sit, huddled in a group with mist sprayed lightly on our faces as scenes from famous Disney movies are displayed on the water, with characters from my favorite Disney movies dancing on their boats, and with Mickey beating the evil Malificent. The thing that really gets me, though, is the music. When I hear the Fantasmic score, tears begin to form in my eyes. For some reason it holds such power over me. My heart races and I cannot help the smile that has formed from ear to ear. Every time I watch it I am both awe-stricken and heart-warmed because I am with the people I love.
I grew up in a family that placed a lot of value in being together. All of my cousins lived within driving distance from me, with the farthest being in San Diego. We were together for pretty much everything. We would spend every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s together. We would even spend whole summers between each others’ houses. We all did stupid things together and got in trouble together. The way that we were raised was to love each other and stick by our family no matter the circumstance. I know of so many families that are broken with fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins who are all estranged from each other. It saddens me, but makes me grateful to know that I will always have people who will stand by me in my life. We place a lot in making sure that we spend time with each other.
Furthermore, I hope that all children in the generations to come could be like this, with a smile on their face and a happy-go-lucky attitude and an innocence that lasts forever. Unfortunately, I am not sure if that is where our culture is taking our youth. It seems as if there is a large disconnect between the generations as far as values and how we are being raised. With the technological advances of today, children are more concerned with their computers, ipods, phones, and video game consoles than they are with pretty much anything else. I never answer or look at my phone during dinner because I was raised thinking that meal time was family time. Why would I need to text someone if I can have a face to face conversation with the people sitting all around me? This is not the case with the youth of today and, I fear, the youth of the future. Every time I look around me when I eat, almost everyone has their phones on the table, more concerned with everything else going on in the world than with the people in front of them. I feel like this is the direction that kids are going in today. There is less of an emphasis on being together as a family and loved ones, and more of an emphasis on what new tech gadget is out.
My tattoo makes me very nostalgic. Every time I look at it I am reminded of my childhood as well as who I am now. I think about all the good things that have come out of spending time with my family in Disneyland and how I grew up. It also reminds me that I will never grow up, not really. I will always hold this childish love of Disney and just being a kid with me forever. I hope to raise my children in the way I was raised in hopes that they will turn out like me, or even, a better version of me. I want to be able to take them to Disneyland and let them watch all of the classics. I want them to spend time with their cousins. I want them to be as close to their relatives as I am now.

10:30am |||Analysis|||

I am not certain if this qualifies as an object, but something that holds a great deal of meaning to me is my tattoo. It is inked behind my ear and is an outline of the beloved Disney character, Mickey Mouse. The outline is simple and black, but I cherish it dearly. Mickey Mouse is pretty much the symbol of Disney and it holds a lot of good memories of my past.
I grew up on Southern California less than an hour’s drive from Disneyland in Anaheim. When I was little, I would make at least one trip a year to the theme park. As I grew older, my visits to Disneyland increased to approximately once or twice a month. I grew up watching and experiencing Disney and Disneyland. Some of my favorite movies are Disney movies. I remember watching The Lion King so much that the film of the VHS started to warp and the pictures began to become distorted. Even now, at college, my friends and I watch Disney movies all the time.
My family has a little tradition whenever we go to Disneyland. During the fireworks show, which is absolutely amazing to watch, a couple of us will leave early to save seats near the river surrounding Tom Sawyer Island while the rest of the group goes to a restaurant in New Orleans Square to buy hot chocolate for the group. We meet up and watch the show, Fantasmic together. I have been doing this since I was a child. Every time I watch it I get such a pang of nostalgia that I simply cannot contain myself. We all sit, huddled in a group with mist sprayed lightly on our faces as scenes from famous Disney movies are displayed on the water. The thing that really gets me, though, is the music. When I hear the Fantasmic score, tears begin to form in my eyes. For some reason it holds such power over me. My heart races and I cannot help the smile that has formed from ear to ear. Every time I watch it I am awe-stricken.
I grew up in a family that placed a lot of value in being together. All of my cousins lived within driving distance from me, with the farthest being in San Diego. We were together for pretty much everything. We would spend every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s together. We would even spend whole summers between each others’ houses. We all did stupid things together and got in trouble together. The way that we were raised was to love each other and stick by our family no matter the circumstance. I know of so many families that are broken with fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins who are all estranged from each other. It saddens me, but makes me grateful to know that I will always have people who will stand by me in my life. We place a lot in making sure that we spend time with each other. Being in college has been the longest I have been separated from my family and it pains me. I am unbelievably excited to go back home and see them and go back to Disneyland during its peak season.
My tattoo makes me very nostalgic. Every time I look at it I am reminded of my childhood as well as who I am now. I think about all the good things that have come out of spending time with my family in Disneyland and how I grew up. It also reminds me that I will never grow up, not really. I will always hold this childish love of Disney and just being a kid with me forever. I hope to raise my children in the way I was raised in hopes that they will turn out like me, or even better than myself. I want to be able to take them to Disneyland and let them watch all of the classics. I want them to spend time with their cousins. I want them to be as close to their relatives as I am now. I hope that all children in America could be like this, with a smile on their face and a happy-go-lucky attitude and an innocence that that lasts forever.

10:30am |||Media Free Week|||

I definitely know that I depend on all sorts of media available to me. To start with, I spend a lot of time on the internet. There is so much of the world that is so easy to access at just the click of the mouse. I spend a lot of time on social networking sites. I use Facebook, Skype, and Tumblr. I even use Blogger.com for this class. They are all ways in which I can get connected with other people, whether they be a friend from back home, down the hall, or across the globe. Television is a big part of my life as well. I don’t really realize it, but I watch a lot of television. There are certain shows that I watch religiously, which is somewhat sad considering I’m more excited for a weekly program than I am to go to church (which I have sort of stopped going to). Another form of media that I feel as if I can’t live without is music. I am constantly hooked in to my ipod. I love walking by myself and just listening to music as I observe my surroundings. A good portion of my day is spent listening to music. I listen to it between classes, on my way to my room, when I’m doing my homework, and even when I am in the shower. If I could have it constantly playing, I probably would. I think going one week without one of these things would be easy, but to give up all three would probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. My biggest fear would probably be falling behind, or furthermore, to go slightly crazy from the silence. A good thing that would come out of this would be that I’d probably get more reading and studying done.

10:30 am |||Class|||

When I hear the word “class” I think of the three traditional class structures: Upper, middle, and lower. History shows that there has always been some sort of class system, and the American Social Culture is no different. Of course we have a class system. We, too, have an upper, middle, and lower class with variations of those (i.e. upper middle class). I come from an upper middle class home. To me, working class means kind of what you would think it means. They are the workers of the society. When I think about working class, I relate it to worker bees. They go out and do all of the dirty work in a society so that others don’t have to. Think of Mike Rowe in Dirty Jobs. They are trash collectors and factory workers. They work construction and things of that nature. The different classes have different lifestyles as well.

10:30 am |||Food and Propaganda|||

When I think of food production in the United States, my mind automatically goes to the fast food industry. And when I think of fast food, the first thing that comes to mind is McDonalds. There has been a lot of controversy surrounding this fast food franchise over the years. One big piece of propaganda against McDonalds was the movie, Supersize Me. The documentary was a way to reveal to America the harmful impact of eating fast food. This caused McDonalds and other fast food chains to put up healthier choices on their menus and even now, most places show how many calories are in each of their items. Propaganda is used on the side of these industries as well. Mostly, it is used to target toddlers and children by showing commercials where the children are happy and even get a toy along with their meal. This form of propaganda is used to lure children into buying unhealthy meals at places like McDonalds and Burger King. Another form of propaganda used against food production are the posters, pamphlets, and videos produced by PETA and their daughter organization PETA2. Who could forget the plummet of KFC sales when a video was released by PETA showing the disgusting and inhumane treatment of the chickens used for KFC’s food. We are bombarded every day with commercials and images on the television and on billboards enticing us to eat at certain places and buy certain foods.

10:30 am How Media Shapes Reality

Media is very much a part of what we perceive as reality today. It can definitely be seen as an omnipresent being in our daily lives. Media is simply something that we cannot escape. We are targets of the media every time we turn on the television or the computer or even while we walk down the street. The thing that first comes to mind when I think of media is the use of media in regards to advertising and marketing as well as how news is delivered to the public.
Media is most certainly a large role in what we shape as our reality today. One thing that makes the connection between producer and consumer so strong is the accessibility to the technologies of today. We cannot avoid the media in our day-to-day lives. Of course, when referring to the technological advances that allow media to access us so easily, I am talking about the use of computers, and more specifically, the Internet. Every time a person logs into their email or goes to a website, they are bombarded with a various number of ads either directly on the website, or in a pop-up window. This is an example of how media shapes reality today because it is shaping us in to a consumer society. Advertising companies use a series of different stimuli online such as use of color, sound, and visual effects, to appeal to the viewers’ senses. Through these sites, media is subtly getting in the heads of the consumer, making them feel that they need what they are viewing.
Another way in which the media shapes reality is through the way news is delivered to the public. People get there news in many different forms. Some examples of the ways in which most people receive news are through television, print, and virtual access. It is important to note that all of these forms of news are censored. Television newscasters, especially those in local news, deliver news approved by their producers whose stories are approved by the network on which it is broadcast. When we turn on the television we see more and more stories about human interest pieces and weather than we do about politics and current world issues. They leave those stories to national news such as CNN. It seems to be the same with newspapers, with the exception of a few more deaths and war stories. The virtual world gives the public news mainly as a secondhand source, further filtered. These ways in which the news has gone through a large filtering system shows that media shapes our reality by putting us slightly at ease. They do not really lie to us, but they leave out important stories or stories that that would upset the public. More importantly, they run stories that do not require the public to think. By doing so, media is able to tell us that we live in a slightly safer or nicer world than we actual do live in.
It can be seen that media is always present in our lives. They use a number of tactics, whether it is in advertising and marketing or through news sources, in order to draw the public in and keep them interested, but necessarily informed. These things shape what we view as real, but do they show us what is true? It is not until we begin to question what we are viewing and realize who we truly are as individuals and not as a demographic, that we filter out for ourselves what is truth and what we believe in.

October 12, 2010 10:30am |||Anything|||

I suppose since this free write is on the topic of my choosing, and I’m not feeling particularly creative this morning, I will write about what I did over this past weekend. I thought it would be boring since most of my friends went away for the weekend, but it was actually really fun. On Friday we went to the DAC coffee house thing to see our friend, Jason, do an acoustic set. It was his first time performing in front of a room, so we thought we’d support him. After that we went to LASO’s dance-a-thon for a little Latin dancing. At first I was somewhat reserved, but then realized that I did not really care about who was looking at me and danced like a fool. We were there until about midnight and on our way back to the dorm, my friend and I decided to sit down while we waited for the others to catch up. It was there that we met a couple of people from Hollis, numbers were exchanged and plans were made. We ended up hanging out with them over the weekend just talking and lounging around. Unfortunately, my friend hooked up with one of them, not drunkenly, and when we saw them again yesterday, he completely ignored her. It was a sad and awkward sight to behold. We resolved since she was hurting a bit, that today would be a girls’ day. That means chocolate and chick flicks.

October 7, 2010 10:30 am |||propaganda|||

Propaganda is all around us. Just think about it. Every time you turn on the television or watch a movie, it is there. Companies pay to have their ads shown or clothes worn in order to further their sales. Whenever someone buys a shirt with Obama’s face on it or a PETA shirt, they are furthering the support of Obama or the PETA organization. It is on billboards, plastered on walls, and in the subways. It is on the clothes we wear and shows we watch. Propaganda is handed out on street corners. We can choose to either buy into it, or not. The spread of propaganda has been around for such a long time. The first things that come to mind are posters made during wartime. Especially during World War II with Nazi propagandas spreading hate for anyone other than the master race with terrible depictions of Jews and gypsies. Propaganda was around a lot during the 60s as well. The peace sign, itself, is a piece of propaganda. A single symbol representing an entire thought.

October 4, 2010 10:30am |||Tyler Clemnti|||

First of all, I would like to express my shock at what was done to this poor peer. As well as shocked, I am disgusted at the thought of people thinking that it is okay to do something like that and get away with it. They invaded something private and should definitely pay the consequences. That being said, the Internet had a major part in the death of this young man. Internet, obviously, made it possible for students to see a live stream of the encounters of Tyler Clementi. His roommate was able to use the popular social networking site, Twitter, to make sure that everyone following him had the chance to see Clementi.

9/27 10:30 am |||Argument|||

If I had an argument to make today, it would be for gay rights. Ever since I was little, I sort of had my own moral compass. Many people believe that the homosexuals of the world do not deserve to have the same rights as straight people. I do not believe that at all. There is nothing wrong or unnatural about being gay. When I was a sophomore in high school, I wrote a speech on why gay marriage should be legalized. It is not like they hurt anyone or are trying to recruit people to join them. The right to marry and get the benefits of that marriage should be available to all who choose to accept it. One of my best friends is gay, and it would kill me to see a future in which he could not live a happy life because there are close minded people in the world preventing him from doing so. Everyone has a right to pursue the path that they see fit in order to achieve their goals, whether they be gay or straight or anyone in between.

Descriptive Detail (Erika Sam-10:30 am)

When I was younger, my godmother sent me a doll for my seventh birthday. I remember it being delivered to my house on a hot day, as the days are always hot in the middle of July in Southern California. It came in a large blue box that my grandfather signed for. I was so excited that I had gotten something in the mail. It is always exciting to get something in the mail when you are younger because it is never bad. I remember my sister, three years older than me, was jealous of the package that I had received. I eagerly waited for my grandpa to open the box. He shuffled into the kitchen and when he came back he had a machete in his hand. The thing you have to understand about my grandpa is that he is what modern people might call a thug. That machete, with its dull silver blade and black handle with little wounds of its own, had been my grandpa’s go-to gadget. But I suppose that is another story entirely.
He came into the living room where he had left me with the box and used his machete to open it, slowly and carefully slicing the tape from one end to the other. After he finished I jumped to see what new and wonderful thing was hiding away in the blue box. It was, as mentioned, a doll. It was no ordinary doll, though. Not one of those Raggedy Anne dolls or a typical Barbie. No, this was something entirely new to me.
I cannot recall who manufactured it, or even what I called her. What I do remember is what she looked like. The doll came to about the height of my shoulder. I had never before seen a doll that big. She had long, black, curly hair that flowed to the middle of her back. She had pale skin and a blue floral print dress that matched her swirling blue eyes. She was one of those dolls that closed its eyes when you laid her down and opened them again when she was upright. The special thing about her was that she was supposed to be like a real friend. She was designed for the owner, me, to hold her hand. With every step that I took, she would walk right alongside me as long as we were holding hands. I could not believe it. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I began to play with her right away. I was not allowed to play with her outside, so we took walks around the kitchen. She slept on the floor next to my bed. I never kept her in bed with me because I used to move around quite a bit when I slept and I did not want to hit her in my sleep.
The fun I had with my new doll would soon change though. Later in the year, towards Christmas, I stayed over at my cousin’s house. Everyone was telling scary stories, and I, trying to fit in with my older cousins stayed to listen despite being terrified. One of the stories was about a possessed doll that, in the nature of scary stories, killed people. It talked and moved and murdered. From then on, I discovered that my doll reminded me of the doll in the story because it could move. Also, there was something about its eyes that would stare as if plotting my demise. Unrealistic? Probably. But to a seven-year-old child, it was very real. Needless to say, the doll was soon banished from my household and donated. To this day, I am still slightly terrified of dolls.

9.9.10 10:30am|||Regrets|||

My latest regret is not telling one of my best friends that I was slightly in love with him. Maybe it was not real love, but I most definitely had strong feelings for him. It was my senior year of high school and by the time I realized my feelings, the end of the school year was coming and I didn’t see the point in telling him. I moved across the country for school. It seems like the right thing to do. I don’t want to look back on y life and wonder what could have been. I am seriously hoping that this does not turn into one of those situations. I’m hoping that my liking him is just a phase in my life and I get over it soon. This, I’m hoping, is not one of those “the one that got away” situations.

9/20 10:30 am

The first thing that I thought of when i read the prompt was my father. Two years ago, I discovered that he had been cheating on my mom. Never in my life had I felt more disgusted and betrayed. He skewered the dynamic of our close family with his inability to keep it in his pants. My parents are still together, but things are not the same. Obviously, he broke our trust. There is not a day that goes by in which I can't help but wonder if he's still continuing his ways.
When I first discovered this, I didn't really know what to do. I told my sister and we kind of kept it under wraps until we knew for sure. It wasn't until one day when my sister was tranferring his contacts from one phone to another that we knew for sure. I felt pangs in my heart and my stomach twisted in knots. How could he do this to us?
I wanted nothing more than to scream and kick and slap my father, but being the person that I am, none of my family saw these emotions. I feel, but tend not to show that I do. My sister came into my room crying. She's older than me, but I am the stronger one. Again, being the person I am, I knew what she wanted. She expectred me to cry, and I did. Not because I was sad, but because she needed comfort.
The feelings I had that day can be described as a mixture of pain, hatred, betrayal, and disgust. My mind raced with scenarios over the past few years in which my father went out at random hours of the day, returning hours later. Still today, I feel the pain and imagine the disgust I felt with every hug and kiss he gives me.

Show Don't Tell

Erika Sam

10:30 am

It is a bright and sunny day. If you are not from this part of the country, you would not be able to tell that it is the beginning of February. The weather is perfect for a twenty-first birthday party in the park. The grass is several shades of brilliant greens and yellows. Part of a sandy volleyball court peeks through the side of the picture, hoping to be captured as well. The background reveals and empty street with a stone wall. Even further still, hills brush across the back, reaching up the sky as they do so. Across the grass, there are many objects. A black and white striped blanket peeks in at the bottom left corner. Next to it are two different soccer balls. One, yellow and black, was used to play a small game of soccer between friends. The other, silver, white, and red, was kicked between two cousins and a wall. There is a large black guitar case; assorted drumsticks, a Frisbee, a man in a plaid shirt and jeans taking a picture, and a skateboard are strewn across the floor.

All of these things are surrounding the main focus of the picture. That is, of course, the seven people in a line. The first person on the far left with his black hair, white shirt, skinny jeans, and brown TOMS is holding a large white bass drum. The next person has short brown hair and wears a grey v-neck t-shirt and black skinny jeans against her pale skin. She holds two drumsticks in her hand. The third person wears a long-sleeved button-up shirt and a dark wash pair of straight jeans. He plays an African drum while wearing a pair of black sunglasses to shield his eyes from the brightness of daylight. The fourth member of this interesting line of people wears a purple shirt and grey pants as he plays the maracas. The fifth person had black hair and wears a purple dress. Her dress is a deeper color than her predecessor’s. It seems to be a more royal color. Perhaps it is because she is the birthday girl. The sixth member in the line, the last person in line’s cousin, is wearing a brown jacket, black skinny jeans, and black Converse. She holds an egg shaker, not seen in this image, within her hand. The seventh and last member in line is me. I am wearing my hair in a bun with a cerulean long sleeved shirt with brown shorts, black tights, and green high top Converse. In my hand is a tambourine.

This picture is of what started out as a drum circle at a friend’s birthday party. We soon tired of playing in a circle on the ground and took it around Gladstone Park. We went through the grass, by the playground where a little boy was dancing along, and the basketball court before we took it back to our little niche within the park. We paraded around like we were little kids playing back in our own homes. “I feel like a lost boy!” I exclaimed. They laughed and agreed all fans of Disney’s Peter Pan.

I have always loved music and drum circles. This picture reminds me of the random jam sessions and Sunday trips to Venice beach to join in the weekly drum circle. It also reminds me of home. It reminds me of the friends I have made and the places I have been to. In California, I feel like I never ran out of things to experience. I am reminded of the many concerts that I have always loved to attend. It did not matter whether it was a large arena, grassy fairgrounds, small bars, small venues, a house, or someone’s backyard. I love going to shows. Mostly, though, I am reminded of the people I love, and the people I left behind. They are what really matter. Moments like this were pure bliss and that bliss was captured in this picture. Faces are barely made out, but all of the emotion was there.

Where did I learn how to be female?

When I was younger I used to be a tomboy. I did not really care about the things I wore or how I looked. A normal outfit for me would be a baggy shirt, warm-ups, and a pair of Nikes. Sure, my mom would put me in dresses for special occasions, but most of the time I just wanted pants and a shirt. My dad would buy me baseball caps and basketballs and take me to the park. Mostly, I was just concerned with having fun and playing in the sand. It is kind of hard to climb a tree or play two-hand-touch when you’re nine and in a dress. Looking back on it, when I was younger, there was not really a distinction between boys and girls. Tom me, boys were friends. They were people I played tag with or raced to the cafeteria against.
I think it was not until I hit middle school that I really started to become a “girl”. Up until then, I still had a lot of fun just being one of the guys. I am still like that in many ways. I have always had more male than female friends. I would definitely pinpoint my transition into girlhood to middle school, though. I think the reasons are fairly obvious. Middle school. Changing bodies. PUBERTY. Once I hit puberty, I think I started to become more aware of myself and how I looked to the opposite sex. This can be attributed to the animalistic need to mate and reproduce. The first thing I think of in this instance is the peacock. A male peacock’s plume is designed to attract a mate by its illustrious display of feathers. I feel as though it is the same for humans. We use our subjective views of beauty to make ourselves more attractive to the opposite gender. In the case of me, the female, through this change, it was becoming more of a girl in order to attract a male counterpart. As goes the story of the human race, right?

RE: What Is It About 20-Somethings?

Personally, I can understand why it is taking so long for this generation of “20-Somethings” to grow up. I have a friend in her twenties who, like those mentioned in the article, graduated college and moved back in to her mother’s house. As of now, she has her degree in English from UC Riverside, but is unemployed and living in the room she grew up in. Her last job had nothing to do with English either. Maybe the 20-Somethings of this generation are lost in a way. Maybe they are trying to find their niche in the world and it is just taking longer than it did in previous years.


I know, for me, I am terrified to grow up. I want to stay as young as possible for as long as possible. My high school English teacher talked to us one day about how after college you really hit the real world. You are faced with bills on top of bills, paying back loans, finding a career, paying taxes, etc. I just wanted to crawl in a hole at that point and never come out. Just the thought of having to face those things in the world may very well cause a panic attack. I wish I could live off of my parents for the rest of my life like a leech. This, of course, cannot happen. Eventually there will come a day where I, like the 20-Somethings, must grow up. I just hope it does not take me too long.

Throughout high school, I feel like many of the students there were in such a hurry to grow up. They wanted to do what they thought was “grown up” or “mature”. These words are subjective. I suppose with this generation, with premarital sex being less taboo, many students at my school did engage in intercourse, but at what cost? High school, and even some junior high, students are so caught up in trying to grow up (sex, drinking, partying, etc) that they lose sight of what it really means to be an adult. They want all the perks of being an adult, without all of the responsibilities.

That is why it is taking so long for people to grow up today. Doing stupid or reckless things are fine when you are young because there is always some sort of safety net to catch you. You can be indecisive about what you want to do with your life and you can lean on your parents. In this way, I think people are staying dependent on parents for longer. It gives us a longer period of time to sort out what we really want out of our lives.