Semester Two Final Blog

Overall, this semester has really forced me to challenge the way I approach my writing. I picked a variety of different topics of varying levels of seriousness and culture (e.g. Be Less like Scrat, AP Art History Greatest Hits) which I have had to adapt my writing style to fit. That is to say, I typically write in a more academic, careful way; but in the presence of fun or delicate topics, the rigidity of that style can detract from the message and emotion of the blog. Consequently, I have learned that I need to be more diverse in the way I approach literature, so that I can produce the best and most topical work possible.

My favorite blog and the one I am most proud of is “‘Praise Song for Oceania’ Difficult Essay”. This blog forced me to confront my own shortcomings as a reader, which was incredibly tough for me to do. I thrive on academic validation and success, so having to literally analyze my own comprehension failures/confusions was difficult for me to grapple with and not have enormous feelings of dread and inadequacy. However, going through the process of deeply examining my methods of reading and interpreting the meaning of poetry (especially when it came to stylistic choices like the unique uses of certain symbols in the poem) has opened my eyes to new ways of thinking and of emotional connection to literature. 

For my Voices novel, Love in the Time of Cholera was a great choice as it allowed me to analyze a voice and region which I have historically under-explored. I also felt that this novel did a great job of balancing details with plot, which is often difficult to find in academic literature (typically there are so many details/verbose language that reading becomes tedious and obnoxious). Consequently, I think that prospective seniors should consider three things: if the voices in the novel are unique and new to you, if the language used suits your reading needs, and how in-depth you are willing to go in your final analysis. Each Voices book accommodates these factors in different ways, with some being easier to read than others and some being less deep than others. Regardless, it is crucial that any prospective senior be well in-tune with their own habits as readers, so that they do not end up reading a book they despise. As for Love in the Time of Cholera, I would definitely recommend it to any senior who is interested in social justice and the examination of traditional gender-roles. 

Throughout my time at NNHS, which has only been two years since I transferred schools from Saint Ignatius College Preparatory after my sophomore year, I have learned a great deal. That being said, the biggest lesson I learned though is not very wholesome. I learned to trust absolutely no one. In my experience in Show Choir (Entourage), I learned that those who you call friends will betray you in an instant if they can gain even a modicum of satisfaction from it. In Entourage, I was consistently gossiped about, with people making fun of my dancing, my mannerisms, my personality, and just about everything else. I faced extreme examples of homophobia, including rumors about my interactions with other students. I faced blatant cruelty and exclusion, with my peers openly mocking me for my academic and social pursuits. I also learned that many of my fellow ensemble members would watch the videos of our performances together while pointing and laughing at me (as well as other people). And the kick of it all was that all of the perpetrators of this despicable behavior were people I considered friends or at least casual acquaintances. Entourage taught me that there are very few good people in this world, and until you find them, it is in your best interest to be wary of everyone. Another lesson I learned from North is that anyone, even teachers and authority figures, can be bullies. In several classes, mostly STEM related, I have been made to be the laughing stock of the class. My teachers chose to make an example out of me by being deliberately condescending and attempting to demonstrate what an idiot I am, to the class’ enjoyment. These teachers (among countless other  factors from NNHS) have destroyed my mental health and self esteem; I genuinely do not know if I will ever recover.

As a result, I offer incoming seniors the following advice: never let yourself be vulnerable, this is not the time or the place to put yourself in harm’s way; you owe no one anything, so do not let anyone bully you into not being yourself.

(Matching titles w/ Kailani and Jazzmine <3)

Reading “Praise Song for Oceania” by Craig Santos Perez was both an emotional rollercoaster and a truly enlightening experience. For context, the poem overall is a commentary about the Oceania region, the people therein, and the planet as a whole. 

First, the poem is separated into seemingly unrelated stanzas all united by a common opening of “praise” or “please”, bouncing between the two essentially at random. Consequently, the speaker of the poem appeared to change throughout it, as the subject matter was conveyed in varying levels of linguistic approach, from using words like “lustful tourism” to words like “my grandpa” (3-4). That is to say, each stanza was almost like a poem in and of itself, making the overall work very difficult to analyze cohesively and holistically. Ultimately, I think these decisions were made to demonstrate the diverse perspectives of Pacific Islanders and to garner support for the broader climate justice movement, but there are a multitude of other possible interpretations. 

The poem opens with an excerpt from Linda Hogan’s “The Turtle Watchers”, which in all honesty felt really out of place to me. I originally thought of it as nothing more than an epigraph, perhaps a nod to an admired artist or as a subtle reference to the ocean subject matter (“turtle”). However, as I read through the poem, my understanding grew. The quote talks about “where beings meet…rounding the human corners”, which feels like a deliberate tone-setting tool to prepare the reader for the unity and humanity imagery of the poem exemplified in phrases like “our trawling boats” and “our territorial hands” (1-3). Overall, the epigraph definitely has more meaning than I thought at first glance.

Another aspect of the piece which I found particularly challenging was the visual structure. Each stanza is read in descending right-diagonal lines with occasional shifts left and are separated by the “~” symbol with large spaces between. Upon first read, I knew that this was a deliberate choice, since conventional structure would be a left centered column with single spaces. However, the difficulty arose with trying to interpret it. Because the general theme of the poem is water/ocean, I thought that the descending pattern could imitate the flow of water, but the separation could actually indicate an ocean between stanza islands. It is also entirely possible  that the author was trying to imitate the jagged structure of coral, which is mentioned directly on Page 2. Regardless, the multitude of potential reasons for that structure make the poem tough to break down, since it very clearly holds a great deal of significance to the overall meaning.

One particular part of the poem which was troublesome to dissect was the last stanza on Page 5, which references the ocean’s contributions to indigenous languages and practices. The end of the stanza consists of a series of words (“tasi : kai … wonsolwara”) in another language. Upon further research, I learned that the author, Craig Santos Perez, is from Guam, whose main language aside from English is Chamorro. I tried finding a translator for this language, but I could not find any reputable ones–this did not even account for the possibility that the language is not Chamorro, although it seems the most likely since the author has a personal connection to the associated culture. I was never able to fully grasp the meaning of the words, but after reading the poem a few times, it became clear that they are probably a tribute to a tradition or practice, since much of the rest of the poem functions as such. 

The last aspect of the work which I struggled to grasp was what the poem was ultimately trying to convey. This, in some regard, refers back to the sporadic usage of “please” and “praise”, but it is more specific to the overall function. The poem includes language like “source of every breath”, which imbues a sense of reverence and respect for all that the ocean does for humanity (1). But just a few stanzas later the author completely changes tone when using such phrases as “our nuclear arms” and “our invasive drilling” (3), which diverges from praise and falls more into self-blame and sorrow. As a result, I had a hard time understanding the author’s purpose in writing this piece, even after reading this poem repeatedly. I questioned whether the author was trying to write an ode to a powerful entity or a criticism of humanity’s blatant disregard for the health of the plant. Ultimately, I believe that the function of the piece is a little bit of both, but with such a strongly worded piece I certainly expected the purpose to be more direct/pointed. This is obviously to no fault of the author, and was more of my preconceived notion about the nature of activism poetry. 

In all, I absolutely loved reading this poem. It was humbling seeing all of the facets of marine affairs laid out all in front of me, and while the way they fit together remains a bit unclear to me, I still think that the author does an amazing job of conveying their passion for climate justice. 

Praise Song for Oceania by Craig Santos Perez

My blog writing this year has most certainly been a journey of self expression and a deep insight into my creative aptitude. And while blog writing was occasionally difficult for me, as I always fretted over my topic and my execution, I would still say that it was overall a wonderful experience full of growth. 

That being said, there were definitely some highlights which I would like to discuss. My favorite blog was ironically one of my first, which is “The Sociocultural Impact of Princess Peach”. This blog was my favorite for a number of reasons, but the main one was that I was able to turn an entirely glib concept into a genuine dive into the importance of fictional characters to our perception of society and of each other. Hilariously, the blog topic started completely as a joke between myself and a few friends, but as I thought about it more and begun to consider how I could write about it, I came to the realization that Princess Peach actually had a significant impact on my life (notably on my gender and sexual expression, which I struggled with for some time), an impact which I can see in other people as well, as I discussed within that post. That is to say, this blog assignment actually encouraged me to think in a way which I would not have previously, and it opened my eyes to the occasionally hidden ways we connect with each other and with ourselves. I also believe that this blog was the most beneficially holistic, as it covered a variety of topics from ethics to sexuality, whereas most of my other blogs were focused more specifically on my job or on a narrative. I am proud that I was able to tackle a great deal of subject matter in the context of an approachable character, and I truly believe that I will continue to look fondly back on this piece of my writing.

In terms of semester-long growth, I genuinely feel that I have changed as a writer for the better. This is for one main reason, which is that I have gained a renewed sense of passion. For most of my high school experience, the only writing I have ever done has been associated with a novel or an assignment, with very little room for creativity or uniqueness. Frankly, most of them have been tedious at best or agonizing at worst, and as a result, I have lost a lot of my love for the art. But being able to tackle topics of my choosing in an amusing way (especially ones like “Things that Annoy Me…” or “Starbucks Barista Q&A”) has reinvigorated me, and I am ready to write again in my own voice. I am truly grateful for this project as a result.

As for the writing of my peers, I have certainly learned a great deal from and about them. Most obviously, I learned that everyone writes in dramatically different ways. I tend to think of the humanities as solely within my own voice, but it was nice to get a feel for the overall techniques and sentiments of my classmates, especially because I will need to learn how to properly interpret and adjust to the writing of my peers in the group-oriented university setting. Additionally, I learned that I need to diversify the way I communicate my interests. Many of the comments I received on my blogs this year involved my peers offering differing perspectives or interpretations based on their own experiences (notably on my “What is a Sport” blog, where several people took issue with my liberal definition of sport), and I want to be more proactive next semester by incorporating more contrasting opinions within each post, to hopefully address an interest or concern from each of my classmates. 

Throughout this blog writing process, I have definitely garnered my fair share of lessons about both myself personally and academically. Regarding the former, I learned how deeply attached I am to my interests, as demonstrated in my heated back-and-forth comments under the “What is a Sport” post as well as my unique and fervent defense for Princess Peach in “The Sociocultural Impact of Princess Peach”. More specifically, I learned that I do not take too kindly to objections which I believe to be uninformed or are derisive towards something I am passionate about. Next semester, I hope to let go of the reins a little bit, and remember that as with all things, my beliefs and passions are subject to the opinions of other people, and that as a member of the NNHS AP Literature community, I am obligated to respect and engage with those opinions. Beyond this, the week-long nature of the blog assignments taught me to use my time wisely, even before the due date. That is to say, it is a good habit to work on an assignment several days before the due date, to leave room for editing or for other assignments. I believe that I did a good job of this this semester, as I consistently turned in the blogs several days in advance. I hope to carry this ethic into next semester, as with AP exam season quickly approaching, I will need to budget my time and ensure that I have time to study outside of required assignments. 

Overall, the blog project has presented me with a variety of lessons and opportunities which I would not have otherwise gotten had I taken a different class or a different approach to my writing, and I am incredibly excited to see what next semester has to offer!

My earliest reading memory is one I will never forget: sitting on our family’s bright red couch reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle. I remember my mother softly and intentionally reading each of the words, as if to make them dance around in the air as they slowly permeated my wandering mind. The brightly colored pages and variety of food items evoked some of my most primal emotions, those of curiosity and humanity. To see a creature, which at the time seemed mythical, have the same needs and same struggles as me, was truly an invaluable part of my early childhood. I have often struggled to grasp with my own body and my own relationships, but as long as the Very Hungry Caterpillar despairs for his next meal, I will always know that I am not alone. In effect, I could see myself in him. Inching along, not thriving, but simply surviving, content with the reality that life may never get better. And while that ideal is most certainly bleak and strays within the deepest realms of pessimism, I find it comforting knowing that even the most rudimentary of creatures must grapple with it as well. 

My little mind could not have possibly known it at the time, but The Very Hungry Caterpillar has come to exemplify many of the values which I hold dear today. Doing what is right not only for others, but for myself. Searching for my next meal, not a feast for others. Protecting my own mental and physical health even in spite of the unbearable pressures imposed upon me by other people is a skill I have had to learn, in several rather unfortunate ways. 

For much of my life, I have taken a protector role in my family, but specifically for my older brother. Growing up under a physically abusive father who was particularly harsh on his favorite son, my brother, I garnered a sense for danger and a vehement desire to protect Shane from it. I was already too feminine for my father, and he gave up on me. But my brother was a football player and thrower for track, and so every ounce of my father’s attention was dedicated to him. That is to say, any screw-up was hounded, brutally. And being on the lighter end of his abuse, I took it upon myself to throw my whole soul in between the two of them to prevent conflict. I got burned doing this. I became not a savior, but an instigator who could not keep himself to himself. He even coined a name for me during his ridicule: “extreme Will”, in reference to my fervor in protecting others in an occasionally dramatic way. And to no one’s surprise, my father and I slowly grew apart, until he effectively disowned me in the Spring of 2018, following my parents’ divorce. I bring this up because it taught me an important lesson, which the Caterpillar had taught me so many years ago, that I need to protect my interests first. I recognize that this seems like a selfish pursuit, but I have far too often pushed myself to limits which I cannot handle. And while I cannot imagine a world where I do not stand up for others, I know now that my mental and physical health is just as vital. Ironically, a main harbinger in that realization was the woman who read me The Very Hungry Caterpillar in the first place: my mom. 

As one can probably infer at this point, my mother is an integral part of my life, and acts as my rock both physically and emotionally. She was the first person, to my dismay and original disagreement, to force me to consider the effects of my choices on myself. She was the main reason why I was able to cope through the divorce/disownment, and to this day she remains my spiritual rock. I am eternally grateful for her presence, and I would do anything for her, the woman who introduced me to the Caterpillar. Ultimately, as long as the Caterpillar and my mom stay in my life to be my soulful guardians, I think I will be content, just living.