Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Final

     With both my parents in the design industry, art has always been a part of life. As an infant, I scribbled on my Leapfrog Doodle Pad. As a child, I sketched my mind. As a teenager, I was exposed to the world of photoshop. But although I had always knew art to be my career, I never gave it a serious thought until I entered the ninth grade.
    My cousin, Christy, and I always had a distant relationship. I was raised to embrace people and she was raised to be a more conservative person. As a result, she never reciprocated my desires to bond with her.
    Of course, she wasn’t my only cousin. In fact, out of all my relatives, the two of us might have been the most different. But there was one thing about her that made her stand out above the rest to me. She had a talent that many of them lacked; a talent that I strove for.
    She loved to draw, and she was good at it. She was capable of sketching anything she saw. I loved to watch her, too. She would sketch, color, and occasionally frame her work. And sometimes, I would just stare at the wall filled with her artwork, speechless and amazed. But aside from art, we didn’t have much else in common. She was a loud, rebellious teenager and I was just an innocent little child. But I longed for her to see past our differences and accept me.

    “Andy...Andy, wake up. We’re here.” said Dad. I had been riding in the car for the past two hours, and though I was only awake for about fifteen minutes worth of the ride.
    My family hurriedly walked out of the car. My mother handed me a cardboard box. Inside was a pot of steaming hot soup. I needed to be careful.
    They speed walked up to the front porch with excitement. I trotted behind like a penguin. After three knocks and about ten seconds, Uncle Jack opened up the front door and welcomed us in. As I waddled in, he relieved me of the cardboard box, placing it onto the counter, so that I could take off my shoes and jacket. After my parents and I finished, we formed a circle in the living room, with inevitable family discussion up ahead.
    “Merry Christmas!” announced my mother. She was shy around strangers, but she was quite a talker to those who knew her.
    “And to you, too!” responeded my Aunt Polly, who sat between Uncle Jack and their son, Derek.
    “So how’s school, Andy!” he asked. I didn’t respond. Actually, I didn’t hear him. There was something wrong; something missing. The treadmill looked the same as last year. The furniture hadn’t budged since the very first time I was here. And Wesley was barking outside.
    But then I noticed what was missing, or rather who.
    “Where’s Christy?” I asked with my innocent eight-year-old voice. Suddenly, my uncle’s smile shifted into a slight frown. His shoulder’s began to slump. But after a quick pause, he reverted to his original position and said with his usual glee,
    “She’s just out hanging with her friends.” He responded. My father nudged me a bit and gave me a slight look telling me not to bring it up again. And so, obediently, I didn’t, but I knew something was wrong.

    Because I have not been given permission, I must leave out the details, but Christy had used her right as an adult, as she was now nineteen, and left home. And I wouldn’t see her again for another five years.

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    When I saw  her again, at age thirteen, she had been living a relatively unpleasant life prior, and was getting short or resources. So when she stood at
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From the summer afternoon that I, now thirteen, saw her again, our relationship changed. She had been living a relatively unpleasant life prior, and was getting short on resources. So when she stood at my family’s doors, we openly welcomed her in and housed her. From there, we slowly grew closer to one another.

Hey Christy. Can you help me with this?” I asked as politely as an oblivious boy could.
“Errr” she made a small pause. “Sure. What do you need help with?”
    “I can’t seem to draw this guy right. I just don’t know what’s wrong with him.
“I see.Well, for starters, his head is way too big and his legs are way too short.”
“Oh?” I said. “I hadn’t noticed.
“Well that’s because your eyes are too used to the drawing already. Try looking at it backwards” Obediently, I flipped the paper to its backside.
“You’re right!” I exclaimed. “Thank you so much.”

Merely one of our many new experiences. Christy was my role model in the past because of her amazing art. However, our different personalities made it difficult for me to connect with her. But this dramatic event in her life allowed me to strengthen the bond we had, and in time, strengthen me.

8: 56 PM. Christy, my mother, and I formed a triangle around our living room; making small talk before Christy would leave for Japan. She was to join her on-duty husband in Okinawa. This would be the last time we would see each other for quite a while, even though it was only two weeks prior that she had announced it.
8: 57. Her phone rang. Her cab was waiting for her outside the house. The three of us had our final goodbyes. Then she stepped off the front porch and onto the overgrown pathway; the cab awaiting at the end.
8: 58. My mother had already gone back inside. I stood at the door watching her pack her luggages into the trunk when she signaled me over to help.
8:59. The luggages were packed. The two of us were facing each other right outside the open car door. She had ordered me not to hug her. I did so anyways.
9:00. All was silent. The cab had left. I stood alone on the curb in front of my house. There were many things I was going to miss about having her around. Her help with chores, help with homework, and help with friends, occasionally, were gone. There are times to be independent, but there is nothing wrong about asking for help. That was her unintended lesson to me.
9:01. My mother signaled me back inside, and I obediently came back in.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Book Post 2

In America, families receive money from the government as compensation for when an immediate family member passes away. However, although life has been granted a cash value, one must keep in mind that this is only compensation to a family for the income of the deceased. It is not an actual calculation of their worth. In reality, it is immeasurable. The value of life is too potent and influencial to be assigned a dollar value.
Several sources attempt to produce a number representing your life value, such as The Human Life Calculator (www.lifehappens.org). However, these generators are inaccurate for several reasons. The first is that the information they give only regards financial worth. This cuts out their social and even political value from its calculations, making it an unreliable form of information. For example, according to The Human Life Calculator, I am worth just a bit over 2,000,000 (keep in mind this is supposed to equal out a life). However, the questions given only asked about my job and my family. It asked nothing of my friends and nothing of my dreams. It is, in essence, wrong. Furthermore, it lacks accuracy. According to the site’s disclaimer, “This human life value calculator should not be viewed as a comprehensive assessment...[as]...it does not account for the specific occupation and education of you or your spouse”. It assumes that your spouse has the same job with the same pay. However, in a majority of families, this is not the case. Life cannot be calculated technically, because there are so many factors that can alter one’s overall life value.
 Therefore, there are too many nuts and bolts in life to calculate. Amanda Ripley comments on this statement in her article “What is a Life Worth?”. She states, “The concept of assigning a price tag to a life has always made people intensely squeamish...but until now, the public at large has not had to reckon with the process and its imperfections” (para 1). Here, she remarks that the people have misconceived the idea of government compensation as a determination of someones life worth, and that this is due to the sheltered lives Americans live every day. Furthermore, it lacks accuracy. According to the site’s disclaimer, “This human life value calculator should not be viewed as a comprehensive assessment...[as]...it does not account for the specific occupation and education of you or your spouse”. It assumes that your spouse has the same job with the same pay. However, in a majority of families, this is not the case. Life cannot be calculated technically, because there are so many factors that can alter one’s overall life value.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Book Post 1

In America, families receive money from the government as compensation for when an immediate family member passes away. However, although life has been granted a cash value, one must keep in mind that this is only compensation to a family for the income of the deceased. It is not an actual calculation of their worth. In reality, it is immeasurable. The value of life is too potent and influencial to be assigned a dollar value.
Several sources attempt to produce a number representing your life value, such as The Human Life Calculator (www.lifehappens.org). However, these generators are inaccurate for several reasons. The first is that the information they give only regards financial worth. This cuts out their social and even political value from its calculations, making it an unreliable form of information. For example, according to The Human Life Calculator, I am worth just a bit over 2,000,000 (keep in mind this is supposed to equal out a life). However, the questions given only asked about my job and my family. It asked nothing of my friends and nothing of my dreams. It is, in essence, wrong. Furthermore, it lacks accuracy. According to the site’s disclaimer, “This human life value calculator should not be viewed as a comprehensive assessment...[as]...it does not account for the specific occupation and education of you or your spouse”. It assumes that your spouse has the same job with the same pay. However, in a majority of families, this is not the case. Life cannot be calculated technically, because there are so many factors that can alter one’s overall life value.
 Therefore, there are too many nuts and bolts in life to calculate. Amanda Ripley comments on this statement in her article “What is a Life Worth?”. She states, “The concept of assigning a price tag to a life has always made people intensely squeamish...but until now, the public at large has not had to reckon with the process and its imperfections” (para 1). Here, she remarks that the people have misconceived the idea of government compensation as a determination of someones life worth, and that this is due to the sheltered lives Americans live every day. Furthermore, it lacks accuracy. According to the site’s disclaimer, “This human life value calculator should not be viewed as a comprehensive assessment...[as]...it does not account for the specific occupation and education of you or your spouse”. It assumes that your spouse has the same job with the same pay. However, in a majority of families, this is not the case. Life cannot be calculated technically, because there are so many factors that can alter one’s overall life value.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Family History Project Connection - The American Dream

A pattern that can be observed from many of these stories are immigration and westernization. I found in various of these stories the tale of a family living in a foreign country, often very or mildly poor, moving to the United States. In three stories specifically, three families were all trying to manage and get by with what little they had, including mine. They then figured on trying the American dream and venturing out to the States. Those families had a child or more and so that child then became the first generation American in their family. This leads to various instances both good and bad.
        In all three stories, the family of the student has to go through some experience or various experiences that lead them to go to the US. In John Hamilton's family story, he didn't necessarily move to the states from a foreign country but rather from Texas to California. But the principle is still the same. His family was living in a difficult environment and as a result moved to California to seek out better opportunities.
       In Andy Lau's family story, he talks about how his mother lived in China  and had to endure many grueling experiences which lead her to move to the states to raise her child; Andy.
"My mom described how their family had to go to the local public shower rooms that were created for people who did not have showers or toilets in their houses. She described these as dirty and filthy places that she hated going to."
 we can see hear from one of the experiences his mother had to go through. That it not only gave her character but influenced her to come to America in hope of seeking the "American Dream". Another similar story, Jackson's, tells the story of his grandfather who came back to America from war to protest. He knew that across the Atlantic ocean the US would not do much so he instead came back to the States and became a protester and "hippie".
"After leaving, he, along with many of his friends, etc. began to protest the war. I guess you could say at one point he became the classic image of a “hippie."
In all these stories it's important to notice how most if not all of them tell the story of coming to the states to seek out something better. It shows what promises and ideas that were thought while creating America. That many if not almost everyone comes to America for work, safety, etc.
       In these three stories and other ones I have read, the story of how their parents came to America for saftey or better opportunities intrigues me and how they are now the first generation of their family. These patterns are not coincidence, but Westernization in a way. The goal of America was to make this land for the free where anythings are possible as long as you can dream it. That is why there are these emerging patterns.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Amy Tan and Amy Chua

In the current day and age, different styles of traditional parenting can be seen very typically by ethnicity. The “Chinese” method, dubbed by Amy Chua as “Tiger Mom” parenting, revolves around the usage of strict, rule-based tactics to instill a constant obedience in the child. Another writer, Amy Tan, shows agreement in her book, The Joy Luck Club.
In “Two Kinds”, a chapter in the book, the character Jing-Mei describes her childhood, in which her mother stressed very strongly about her desire for Jing-Mei to become a piano prodigy. She kept complaining that the song played by a young girl on the television did not sound good, but could not state a reason. When Jing-Mei defends the girl by saying she’s trying her best, the mother changes her focus and starts comparing her to the girl on TV.
    Similarly, Amy Chua would not give her daughters positive feedback. In fact she was totally against it. In her article, “Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior”, she states,
“What Chinese parents understand is that nothing is fun until you're good at it. To get good at anything you have to work, and children...never want to work, which is why it is crucial...This often requires fortitude on the part of the parents because the child will resist...which is where Western parents tend to give up. But if done properly, the Chinese strategy produces a virtuous circle.”(para. 5)
    As one can see here, Chua believes that if a child is praised, they will become spoiled. This agrees with the actions of Jing-Mei’s mother as she immediately bad-mouthed her when she spoke against her mother’s opinion. Furthermore, Amy Chua not only states that not providing positive feedback to a child will make them more obedient, but that doing so will create a resistant and lazy one.
    In Tan’s, “Without Wood”, another character, Rose Hsu, is having marital issues and chose to see a psychiatrist. Her mother, An-mei, is confused and slightly hurt by her daughter, who chose to see a complete stranger rather than her own mother. The book states,
“A mother knows what is inside you,’ she said. . . . ‘A [psychiatrist] will only make you [confused], make you see [a dark fog].’ Back home, I thought about what she said. . . . [These] were words I had never thought about in English terms. Maybe they can’t be easily translated because they refer to a sensation that only Chinese people have.”
    Here, not only has Rose chosen to talk to someone else about her issues rather than her mother, but she also has shown difficulty translating her mothers word, showing that she is more Americanized than the other daughters who range from attending Joy Luck with their parents to actually participating in the games they play. This may seem irrelevant at first. However, if one takes into consideration that An Mei, the mother, raised her daughter more loosely to the Chinese traditions, we can see an obvious connection between what Rose is experiencing and what Amy Chua believes.
    In summarization, the philosophy of Amy Chua and those mentioned in The Joy Luck Club reflect a similar ideology. Both state that children will abuse a loose parenting method, while holding a strict standard to them will instill obedience.