Saturday, April 21, 2007

Co-Dependent and Changing It

Four years ago I was a shy, reserved, and timid person who depended completely on my parents to make my decisions and take care of me. A lot of people would argue that I haven’t changed very much, but if you know me—really know me—then you know I’ve changed. Four years ago I was okay with being that person. Today I fight with myself on a daily basis to get past those feelings.

No one wants to be that co-dependent, and as I watched other college students interact with each other, with their families, and with the rest of the world, I realized just how strange it was that I couldn’t even order a pizza over the phone. I couldn’t walk into Wagoner Hall and ask for anything, so I ate whatever they had available in self-serve style. I still get the urge to do those things sometimes, but as of today I am fully capable of ordering a pizza and asking for a hamburger. I can walk up to a salesperson and tell them what I need. I can even—gasp—make a return. Without my mother, or anyone else for that matter.

I go home on a regular basis and sometimes my family doesn’t know what to say about the changes that have occurred in me over the last four years. I’ll take my sister’s sandwich—that was supposed to have no mustard on it—back to the counter and ask for a different one when she was just going to scrape it off. She usually just rolls her eyes, but sometimes she calls me on it. “I would have scraped it off…since when do you complain about stuff anyway?” Honestly, I didn’t know it was classified as complaining when I did it, because it might have stopped me. It sounds very negative.

I used to be the one that waited at the door while someone bought the movie tickets but now I do it myself. It’s strangely satisfying to be able to tell people what I want. It sounds so simple, like something everyone already knows how to do, but four years ago I was incapable of these things. I guess being dropped off two hours from home with no friends will do that to a person. You kind of have to learn to survive whether you want to or not. Not that I didn’t resist the entire time. Not that I still don’t resist. But that’s what’s changed in me. It’s not that I’m any more outgoing or any less shy—I just realize it now, and want to change it. So I do.

I think it’s a shock to my parents. They’re used to me being their co-dependent child. I don’t want to be that girl anymore. I want to live in Wilmington and not move home after graduation. That scares them, I think, because they don’t trust that I’m as self-sufficient as I need to be yet. And maybe I’m not. I still have problems going into the gym—a personal battle I’m losing, but finding ways around—and I still let people walk on me a little bit. But if I go home, I know I’ll turn back into who I was before—and so do they, which is why I think they’re okay with my decision. They want me to be happy and capable of my own life and they know I’m making progress—at tortoise speed, but give me a break. For eighteen years I was okay with hiding in a shell, so if it takes me a couple more to come out of it, I think I’m okay with that.

Directions to Class

Getting to Morton 204 is simple and there are only a few major turns. Coming from Raleigh, on I-40, should take about two hours. Exit 420 is the last one on I-40, which then becomes College Road. From here it should take about ten minutes, depending on traffic, to arrive at the university. A Crown gas station, located on the right below an overpass, is a sign that you’re close. After the overpass, there will be a Best Buy on your left and a Wal-Mart on the right. From here, the college is approximately a mile, on the left directly past a Hardee’s, and lined by pine trees.

Since UNC-Wilmington is stingy on parking, the last entrance onto campus provides a good route to a metered parking spot. The road you want onto campus is Hurst Drive which is located approximately half a mile past the Hardee’s on the left. This turn is marked by a Taco Bell and BB&T ban that can be accessed by turning right on Hurst. After turning left off College Rd. onto Hurst, drive till you reach a stoplight. The track will be directly ahead and a parking lot bordering to tennis courts on the left. Next take a left onto Hamilton Drive at the light.

After you make the left, the tennis courts should be on your left and a softball field on your right. Go past them and continue on Hamilton Dr. through the intersection with Riegel. Soon after the intersection you will see the Warwick Center on the right and will be on an unmarked section of Hamilton. You will next encounter a stop sign and a parking lot directly ahead. It should take less than five minutes to travel from College to the stop sign.

Now take a right at the stop sign. Then an immediate left where you see a line of parking spots on the left and trailers on the right. The first couple parking spots, on the left, are metered. Once you’re out of the car, walk toward the end of the parking lot away from the Warwick Center. Follow the sidewalk leading to a big building straight ahead. This building is Randall Library and you should pass Kenan Hall on your left. Once you’re in front of the library, look towards the clock tower in the middle of a commons area. Then find the building to the left of the clock tower. This is Morton Hall where the class is located. Take the entrance into Morton that is adjacent to the clock tower and in front of bike racks.

Once you are inside, you will see a stair case on the left—take those to the second floor. Go through the double doors and continue straight. Keep walking down the hallway and locate the bathrooms on the right. We are the second room, on the left, beyond them. Our class is in room 204 and has one center table with computers lining the periphery. Once you get out of the car, it should only take a few minutes to reach the room. Class starts at 11 a.m. and Dr. Veit is particular about timing so plan your travel schedule accordingly.

Home Life

The night that I left for college was the saddest night of my life. I'm an only child and I'm extremely attached to my parents, so I was afraid of the great unknown. I was going to be 300 miles from home with no friends or contacts. I was certain my life would change, and change it did.

Ever since that night my life has been in limbo. Every time I go home I see my old room and it feels like I'm home. But I'm not. All my stuff may be piled in the same place I left it, but something always feels off. All my friends from high school have been scattered by the wind. And with our differing schedules, it's almost impossible to arrange a time when we're all home. After three years of college, I still walk into my room and feel overcome with bottled memories and emotions. Opening up my door at home is like opening Pandora's Box or stepping through a time portal that puts me in the exact mind frame I was in when I was growing up there.

Life at college is an experience. It's an experience that I feel like everyone should have. There are no rules anymore as to how to live your life. However, I never feel completely at home when I'm at college. At first it was obvious because I was in the on-campus dorms, and those could be easily mistaken for prison cells. But then I was in a nicer apartment, adorned with all my favorite things, and I still felt like I couldn't call it home. Nothing at college seemed to be mine. I couldn't unwind and completely be myself.

I didn't know how to deal with this feeling of not having a place to call home. Of course my parents reassured me that the place I grew up would always have a bed there for me. But it just didn't seem right, so I stopped going home as much. I began to get used to my place here more. After awhile I started going home on average about only once a semester. Yet, I still felt like something was missing from my life.

I've come to realize that when you leave for college your life completely changes. You can't go back home and expect to have everything taken care of by your parents. You can't be in your backyard and kick the ground and have that piece of earth truly be yours. I guess I should consider myself lucky because I have been able to do that in my life and some kids haven't. I have felt at home at 8205 New Hope for the majority of my life. Now I'm just waiting until the day I can have my own place and my own family and feel at home once again.

Why I Can't Go Home


I always wanted to go to college. I was excited to meet new people, have new experiences and live somewhere different. At the peak of my senior year in high school, it became clear who was and wasn’t going to go to college. Seventy percent of my friends actually went away to college and about twenty of those people went to school in a different state. My friends chose of schools was a good indicator of what they wanted to achieve in life. Dozens of kids went to in-state schools together, but I came to Wilmington with one only peer because I wanted to get away from people I already knew. I wanted my college experience to be innovative, full of good and bad experiences that I could learn from.

I came to college and had a boyfriend who still lived at home. My freshman year I went home at least once a month and spent time with him and our other friends that didn’t leave the area to go to community college or to work. After a year of the six- hour drives and spending Friday and Saturday night reliving high school, I stopped going as much. Eventually my long-term boyfriend and I broke up because I didn’t feel like I was living college the way I wanted to be. Throughout that year I began to lose contact with people that I once called every day. After a while I was left with only a handful of friends from high school that I still talked to. I began making friends at school with people more compatible with the person I was becoming.

Coming home also meant staying at home. I lived with my mom in a two-bedroom condo most of high school and this is what I come back to. My mom trusts me and we have a comfortable relationship, but staying under her roof made me feel younger and less mature. Almost directly after leaving home I realized that I am an individual and make my own decisions. I use valuable lessons now that my mother has taught me through the years now that I don’t live with her any more. Things like going to bed at a reasonable time, eating a solid breakfast and doing my laundry. When I left home, I was ready to take care of myself and make responsible decisions because of her.

Another thing about going home is that before leaving, I lived in Northern Virginia my entire life. I made friends with the kids that went to my elementary, middle and high schools but I sort of had to. Unlike college, you can’t pick which school you want to attend and with what people because everything is done by zoning. Coming to Wilmington I knew there would be some motivated, smart, mature and relaxed people that I could be friends with. Also, being back in northern Virginia I realize all the things that I can’t stand about the area. It has it perks being right out side of Washington DC, although there are a lot of things that make the area unbearable at times. There is a lot of traffic, a lot of people and a lot of the people are rude. Coming to the south was a nice change in pace. People take the time to be nice and things are generally slower.

I’m so glad to be in college. I have learned a lot about myself and what I want in my life. Although being in a new place by myself is scary and hard at times, it’s the experience I have been looking for. Now that I have lived in Wilmington for almost three years, I only go home for holidays and stay no longer than a week. This way I can enjoy being at home without feeling like a sixteen-year-old high school student. After I graduate I know that I want to move somewhere else and continue living and learning. I’m a different person than I was in Virginia and the journey has just begun. But for now, Wilmington is home.

I-40 All the Way

First things first. Driving from Raleigh to Wilmington is one of the most boring drives. It causes very heavy eyes and the desire to sleep, so I suggest pumping yourself full of caffeine before you start the drive. Trust me, you will be trying to find things to do to make your drive less painful.

Coming from Capital Boulevard in Raleigh, you will need to take Highway 440 or the Beltline. You will head east on the Beltline towards Rocky Mount. After about 5 miles you will take the exit for I-40 East. The signs direct you towards Wilmington/Benson on I-40. There is currently construction going on on I-40, so be aware of the speed limit through those areas when you first begin driving on 40.

The rest of the drive to Wilmington is a straight shot. If you need to stop to stretch your legs, use the restroom, or just grab a drink, you can always just pull off at any exit, but I recommend the rest stops. The first one you come to is at Exit 325, which follows right after the exit for Greenville and Highway 70. If you think you can hold off for a while, your next best bet is Exit 364. Not only is it the halfway point from Raleigh to Wilmington, but it is also the last rest stop on I-40. If you need to go, go now. Exit 364 also has several options for food and for gas if that is needed, otherwise, just keep on driving.

I-40 officially ends when you reach Wilmington. When I-40 ends and becomes College Rd., the speed limit drops from 70 mph to 55 mph, so be very aware of this, as cops like to pull people in this area. The first major intersection you will come to in Wilmington is the intersection of College Road and Martin Luther King Boulevard. After passing through this intersection you will go through four more stop lights until you reach the intersection of College Road and Randall Parkway. You will want to be in the far left lane, because you will be making a left onto the campus of UNCW.

When you turn onto the campus you will want to drive to the second large parking lot on your right. As a visitor, you will want to try to get one of the metered spots on the far left, rear part of the parking lot, since they are designated for visitors. Otherwise, park in any spot in the lot you can find. Being a visitor, you will not be obligated to pay any parking fines if you are ticketed.

The building directly in front of you when you enter the parking lot is Randall Library. If facing the library, you will want to look to you left and go straight towards that building which is Morton Hall. Upon entering the building, you will walk straight down the hallway and right before reaching the closed double doors, take a right, then an immediate right onto the stairs. Follow the stairs to the top and take a left after passing through the door. You will then go through a set of double doors and when you reach the main hallway, take a right. The classroom will be the first door on your left, room 204.

Hopefully these directions are clear and will help you have an easy trip here to Wilmington.

Every Day Changes

Change can be intimidating, but only because of the disorder it creates. Everyday, I change my clothes, my points-of-view and the compact discs in the car stereo according to how I feel that day. But those are ordinary changes, daily modifications that hold no sway over anything of significance; it is in the grand revolutions that life finds us.

When I first left home, I wasn't sure if I was ready for the changes that surely awaited me. Everyone told me that it was perfectly normal to feel nervous about a new environment and no longer living under the safe protection of my parents. That last summer after graduation passed in a hectic blur of activity and crisis, and when August arrived, I still didn’t feel certain that college was going to be what I needed. It didn’t help that my grandpa died the day before I moved into my new life in Wilmington either. I saw bad omens heralding my unraveling.

Of course I eventually came to love the mystery of this new chapter, and by the time I had returned to Charlotte for the first time, I wondered what I had made all the fuss about. But with each subsequent visit home, I began to feel the pangs of new worry growing inside me. I realized one day, very suddenly, that Charlotte no longer felt like home, that my parent’s house was theirs and no longer mine. I was a guest in my own bedroom and a stranger among my town.

I then began to evaluate what it was that made me feel so outcast in such familiar surroundings. Did the city change? Did Charlotte seem more developed than before? Yes, all cities grow naturally, but that didn’t seem like something that would disturb me so. Was the change all mine? I wondered if I felt different than when I was in high school, and, although I didn’t see it as clearly at first, I grasped very quickly how much my general outlook on the world had evolved. I grew more accepting of ideas and the people presenting them. I learned how to live among the masses, in the most challenging of situations with the sloppiest of roommates. I even evolved from hopelessly unorganized to clean and structured. I thought my mother was going to weep when she saw how sparkling my dorm room appeared on one of her first visits.

But not every change can be considered positive. The last two years spent in Wilmington have been devoted to rediscovering the ambitions by which I once defined myself. With 19 years of life experience safely filed away in the vaults of my mind, one would think that I have a decent idea of all that, but I don’t anymore. College opened so many doors that I’m unsure which one I should step through, and recently some have been slammed in my face, creating more stress.

In these occasionally difficult times, I try my best to look forward. I know that I can’t go running back to my parents just because things get tough. I’m not frightened of change, and I find myself at the edge of a revolution, ready for that next leap.

This Is Always Home

It was almost time to leave everything I’d known home behind and begin a life without adult supervision. College meant I’d be an hour and a half away from my family, I’d be living in a dorm, and I would no longer have to abide by parental rules. It didn’t mean the same thing to my parents. The closer it got to my “grand move,” the more my dad nagged me. When I say nagged I mean he was constantly on my case about something. It only frustrated me and made me want to get out of the house even sooner. I later realized that was the way he dealt with having to let go. He did the same thing to my brother three years after they sent me away to college. The attitude I got from the situation came across to my parents as, “I don’t want to be here. I don’t need you telling me what to do. Good bye.” Of course I didn't think that. It didn't help that I was short with them meaning, I only answered there questions with as few words possible in our conversations. They said it was like pulling teeth trying to talk to me.

I was overjoyed on move-in day. I told myself that I wasn’t going to cry when my parents left me alone, but the emotions were unbearable. The moment I saw my mother's eyes fill with tears, the same happened to me. We all embraced each other. We even joked about who received a longer hug so more hugs were shared to make up for it. That helped take the focus away from our tears and turned it into laughter. As I watched my family walk down my dormitory hallway, I realized that even though I’d been on edge with them at home, I was sad to see them go.

It wasn’t long before I was calling them to simply talk. It took a while for my dad to stop saying, “You must want something,” when he first heard my voice on the other line. He didn’t mean it to come across as negative; however, he was skeptical of my new perspective. I’d realized how much I needed my parents in my life. I valued their opinion and point of view, and they were the ones I could trust most. I lost so many things when I left for college. My best friends all went to different schools. I realized communication with my friends may lessen but never had to with my family.

For the first two weeks I felt like I was living a life on edge simply because I could do anything I wanted without asking permission. I decided what and when to eat, when I wanted to go to bed, and that it was okay to leave at midnight to go out with friends. I wasn’t doing anything crazy but because I was doing everything on my own, I was living the life. The humorous aspect was that I found I almost felt guilty when I was out past the curfew my parents set for me. It was then that I began to question what it would be like when I went home. Would I still have a curfew or where they going to treat me as the adult I felt I’d become in two weeks?

The time came to take the drive on I-40 to my home. I was ready and anxious. When I arrived home, their tearful embrace was all I needed to know I was home. For the first time I recognized the smell of my house. My mom didn’t let me leave a room without her following me. It seemed she had so much to talk about, so much to ask me. At times it may have been annoying but it was also empowering. I seemed to have the upper hand in the household now. My parents wanted to do everything that made me happy. Mom wanted to cook whatever I wanted. My dad was there to fire the grill, go for a run, or crack a joke with me. To see me smile and see me happy is all my parents have ever wanted. All I have ever wanted is to make them proud.

Over the past four years of college, I have only hoped to make my parents proud and make decision that will lead to a bright future. Because they instilled in me values and taught me what is right and wrong, I’ve been grounded. Going to college changed me. A bond formed with my parents. I was officially daddy’s little girl. My mom was my best friend. I've learned more than I anticipated prior to college. Particurally, my semester in Europe opened my eyes to other cultures and lifestyles. I came back after six months in Europe and felt like a grown adult. I felt more mature because I'd been exposed to so many things. I gained, for example, the understanding that European citizens know more about America than most Americans know about their own country. Hence why Americans are considered ignorant.

My parents have told me that their home is always my home. Even after four years at college my mother still says to me, “No matter where you move, this is your home.” I know I’m always welcome and will never hesitate to return to the familiarities, smells, and comforts of home.

Oprah's Town Hall Discussion


On Monday April 16, 2007 Oprah Winfrey did something that she has wanted to do for years. Oprah decided to have a talk show that directly discussed issues within the African American community. Some of the topics discussed were sexism, racism, and change. The show was titled After Imus:Now What? Some of the panelists Oprah invited to share their opinions were Stanley Crouch, a syndicated columnist for The New York Daily News; and two-time Grammy winner India Arie. The show was set up in a way in which the audience could voice their opinion through an open mic. The discussion about racism, sexism and change was done in a two part show with the second panel voicing their opinions and solutions on Tuesday April 17, 2007 in a show titled After Imus: The Hip Hop Community Responds.

During the first talk show columnists addressed CBS talk show host Don Imus comment about Rutgers University girls’ basketball team. On April 4, 2007 Imus called the women “nappy headed hoes." After that comment, controversy stirred up in the African American community. All the people of importance within the community started pointing fingers and laying blame on each other. According to Stanley Crouch the “Humanity of people is the only answer to this, because people are being dehumanized in popular culture. … When people saw who these women were, they saw how much of an insult it was." In the media African American women have been dehumanized for many years. Also by the hip hop community and other news media.

I conducted a little research of my own and interviewed African American women on the campus of the University of North Carolina Wilmington. I asked the women how they felt about Don Imus? One of the comments struck as far from the norm. According to Chantal Dixon " He was making the comment in a jokingly manner, why is it when someone of another race makes a comment about African Americans everyone in the community blows everything out of proportion; but when some African American makes a comment no one says anything. It seems as if African Americans feel that they have the right to say racist things because of their past in America." Ms. Dixon's point of view is slightly understood by some in the community. As the show continued the discussion became more heated and many of the panelists started to agree that it was the hip hop community's fault for such language. Many wanted to blame the community because of similar and sometimes worse lyrics that rappers used in their songs.

On the second part of this discussion After Imus: The Hip Hop Community Responds Oprah invited some very notable figures in hip hop to respond to the panelist comments on previous show. Some of the panelists she invited were Dr. Ben Chavis, hip hop advisor and director of the Hip Hop Summit Action Network and Russell Simmons, CEO of Def Jam music group. Dr. Chavis acknowledged that some of the lyrics rappers used were downgrading to women and that after the show he was calling a meeting between some of a hip hop's biggest money makers. Dr. Chavis expressed that he was around during the Civil Rights Movement and the birth of Hip Hop and acknowledged that the problem would not be solved overnight. Russell Simmons tried to explain how these rappers were products of their environment (project housing, welfare, and low income school districts) and in order to fix the problem we needed fix its roots first by helping African Americans to get out of the poverty that they are in.

Many people including myself and the panelists were happy that Oprah decided to talk about such a controversial topic. By opening the topic up for discussion Oprah hoped that the show would be a gateway to solving some of the issues discussed. The topics discussed were so important that 79 year old Dr. Maya Angelou called in to voice her opinion about the situation. In the future maybe Oprah will bring us the results of the meeting that Dr. Ben Chavis promised would occur after the show. Maybe, after that town hall discussion as Oprah labeled it, many in the hip hop community will jump start the resolution by not making derogatory comments about women in their lyrics?

Friday, April 20, 2007

I Scratch My Head

Call me foreign or old-fashioned--there are things happened in this country that often make me scratch my head.

A few weeks ago, a popular radio host, named Imus, used some offensive terms to comment on a college athlete team. The entire country was furious about his comment, and he was fired a few days later. Though I did not know who Imus was until he made the remarks, I think he should be condemned for what he said. However, this was not the first time I heard people use words like this. Two semesters ago, a girl I met in the communication class recommended me a website call facebook. Ten minutes after I signed on the site, I was surfing facebook—the website where college students meet and make friends. As I checking out UNCW students’ pages, I surprisingly read comments between girls who addressed each other, and even themselves, by the b-word or h-word. I logged off facebook and never went back. Maybe I am too foreign, but I remember that when I grew up, words like those were never OK to use on anyone—no matter what family or social class you came from. Using offensive words, you would be ordered “…to brush your teeth until those bad words are out of your mouth.” Maybe I am too old, people nowadays pop these words to each other like they are M&Ms and no one seems to get offended—I guess these words are simulated into our culture so long that people just adapted to it after awhile. Though I came from a country with an ancient history, I scratch my head and wonder how “ancient” I really am.

If the issue of what words can be used confuses me, the issue that really puzzles me is what responsibility we as individuals should have for ourselves. A few years ago, I learned that cigarette companies were responsible for the addiction of cigarette smokers. Maybe because I don’t like smokers’ breath, isn’t it the smokers’ own choices to smoke? Later, news reports told us the reason that the court decided cigarette companies were liable for punitive compensation was because they did not inform the consumers that nicotine, one of the ingredients in almost all cigarettes, was addictive. I guess that could be an argument, though I still wondered about the people who are still smoking (don’t they know that nicotine is additive now?). A while later, I learned that fast food restaurants were responsible for people who became obese. The augment was that fast food restaurants hid the fact that their foods can cause people to gain weight and become obese. Apparently, we as individuals are not intelligent enough to take responsibility for our own actions, so it is the responsibility of the government, the corporation, the media, or the court system to inform and protect us. I scratch my head and am a little concerned of the direction we are going, but I came from a country where the government constantly “thinks” for the people in the good intention of protecting us. I feel sure Americans will adapt to it after awhile.

A few days ago, another event captured our nation--a gunman, Seung-hui Cho, shot himself after killing thirty-two victims randomly on the Virginia Tech campus. The nation mourned with the victim’s family, and questions arose—“why?” “What went wrong?” As more facts are revealed, the more I scratch my head. According to press reports, Cho was directed by a court order to go through “all recommended treatments" because he "[p]resents an imminent danger to himself as a result of mental illness." However, Cho was released next day because he promised that he would come back to go through an outpatient treatment.[1] A little over a year later, Cho was able to purchase ammunition and two handguns without question asked. The tragedy of Virginia Tech revealed a paradox way of thinking: on the one hand, people are not required to take responsibility for their own actions, but the mental patients, on the other hand, we have enough confidence in their abilities to not only care and make decisions for themselves, but also follow through the treatments they desperately needed. Our mental patients must be a group of very intelligent and responsible people.

I realize there are mental patients who are able to take care of themselves, and I feel sure not all smokers or people with weight problem blame the cigarette companies or fast food industry. However, what I am really saying is that we, as a country, sometime are caught in many of the confusion and arguments, so we lost sights on the big pictures. We are afraid of offending others, so we let people use offensive words and justify to ourselves that using these words represents cool or bold; consequently, our children learn the same language because we allowed these words into mainstream culture. We want the corporations to assume social responsibility, but forget that there is something also calls individual responsibility. We emphasize individuals’ rights, even the prisoners or the mentally ill, but forget about the potential harms to the public in large. It is important for us, therefore, to step back from all of the complicated issues and arguments and use our long-forgotten common sense.

[1] Order Declaring Va. Tech Shooter An “imminent Danger” to Himself. 13-14 Dec. 2005. <http://news.findlaw.com/nytimes/docs/vatech/seunghui2005ord5.html>.

You R a Racist


In recent weeks an idiot talk show host named Don Imus thought he could slyly get away with calling a group of young women "nappy-headed hoes” and nobody would care. Well he was wrong, We do care.
The most offensive thing about this, in my opinion, was that this fool actually thought he could make the argument that "Blacks" use these negative words all the time, so therefore it is okay for him to do so as well. When that didn't work, he and his bosses at NBC tried to play up the angle that a double standard exists, where it's okay for Black musicians and minority comedians to use these words, but not whites.
Of course none of those arguments worked, and he was fired. However, the only positive thing that this fool's words spurred was that he made the world understand that everyone's words are not equal to another.
Here is the only thing that needs to be understood by all races: Be you white, black, Latino, or European, only if you belong to that race or are derived from the same environments, then and only then, is it acceptable to use the same positive or negative words.
The best way to look at this is with the family metaphor. In a family you can be nasty, racist, mean, spiteful, and anything else you can think of, but only to your family. But if someone outside of the family tries to do these things, then you're ready to maim and kill in defense of your family.
That is what Imus and a lot of minority-challenged individuals forget. There are never any okay moments for whites to use "Blacks’" words. To further illustrate my point: in minority communities, the words "nappy-headed" are the first words you use to start a fight or completely demean an adversary. Those words have never been positive. We don't use them jokingly or as light-hearted nicknames. If he were of a similar background, he would know this.
Unless people learn this rule, and stop trying to be "black”, I'm sure some other fool will be joining Imus in the unemployment line real soon.
In an attempt not to be completely biased towards Mr. Imus, I’ll make reference to two very popular cartoons that use race, racial stereotypes, and all types of offensive measures to gain, maintain, and entertain their audiences. The shows “Family Guy” and “The Boondocks” center most of their humor, and episodes, on the racist society we live in.
While “Family Guy” runs the gauntlet of equal opportunity offensiveness, it mostly focuses on the racial stereotypes associated with the Irish, which happens to be the ethnic background of the shows creator. That is also how “The Boondocks” operate, with the racial stereotypes focusing mostly on Blacks, which also happens to be the creator’s ethnic background. That’s the catch.
These two shows are not meant to appeal to everyone, and are always offensive to someone, but they won’t be canceled for racist statements because they are only commenting on their respectable ethnic heritages.
When all of society can follow that formula, then a small victory in a huge war will have been won.

Taking Action

On April 16th around 7:30 a.m. one boy walked out of his dorm only to see policemen outside of his building. He was a normal student who lived in the same dorm where the first shooting took place. He got outside of the building and out to what is known as the drill field until someone finally stopped him and told him what had happened. This is one example of many ways Virginia Tech did not take the right precautions on the day of the shootings.

The student was not stopped while walking out of his dorm where the shooting had taken place only 15 minutes earlier. This is one aspect of the Virginia Tech situation that I feel adamant was handled the wrong way. Virginia Tech in no way could have predicted this horrific act would have happened on that Monday. However, there are precautions they should have taken to avoid criticism about their decisions from the public.

Virginia Tech's campus was not informed until two hours later that the first incident had even happened. I am aware that the police had looked at this as a domestic dispute and saw no real threat to the rest of campus. However, there was an armed person that they did not have in custody and could have been anywhere on that campus. That is why at this point they should have taken action, rather than not doing anything.

Because it was so early in the morning they could have stopped all those off campus from coming on and had police at the buildings send those there home. If they would have police on standby and entrances of the campus and all buildings there would have not have been as many people on campus.

One argument against this is that they did not want to cause chaos. They could have informed students that there was someone armed possibly on campus and for them to take precaution and it would not have been chaotic. This way they could have had a more control over the situation and had more to back the University up if this would have happened still. Waiting two hours to send any notification to the students makes no sense to me.

One reason I feel this way is because of an experience I had and how UNCW handled the situation. My freshman year I lived in Cornerstone Dorm. At the end of the year a male that lived in the dorm killed a girl on my hall. I remember that day; once the police arrived everyone was brought up to the third floor and no one was allowed to leave until they had questioned people and checked out everything. At this point they had the man that did this in their custody. Comparing UNCW's reaction to a similar situatuion shows Virginia Tech's faults.

By no means am I saying that this situation would have been prevented all together. God has control over these situations and we cannot predict tragedies like this. However, for Virginia Tech’s scenario they should have taken better precautions and it could have saved some lives or not caused as much controversy for their decisions.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Kids in college?

In one of my classes this past week, I was surprised to see a little blonde-haired girl who looked to be about three years old, sitting on the lap of one my female classmates. Walking to my seat, I wondered why the she brought this little girl with her. Not long ago in a different class, a student brought her young cousins to see what college is really like, but I figured this little girl was too young for something like that. Of course, I quickly realized that this was my peer's daughter, and apparently she had no other option than to bring her to class.

I think it was admirable that this student was so intent on coming to class that she brought her daughter with her. But it soon became obvious that it was not going to be so simple for her; although this cute little girl was well behaved, she couldn't help but make some noises and wander over to where another student had placed his skateboard up against the wall. After all, kids are kids. The professor seemed a bit distracted, but I wouldn't say she was peeved. I was also slightly distracted by this child, but it wasn't like she was totally debilitating my concentration. What actually turned out being more distracting was another girl who sits a couple rows across from me, who happens to be one of the biggest talkers in the class, both during the actual class discussion and in off-topic discussion with her neighbors.

This particular peer has actually been distracting to me before; since we both sit in the back, I can't help but notice how she likes to disparage other people's comments and roll her eyes at things she disagrees with. I admit that I disagree with a lot of things said in many of my classes, but I feel that the proper thing to do in such a case is to raise your hand and address the person that you happen to disagree with, which is what "discussion" is all about. However, in this situation I thought she was being particularly unfair when she whispered (quite loudly) to her friend sitting next to her how annoyed she was by the little girl several rows away from her.

At this point, I'm sitting on a fence. I don't think children are appropriate for the classroom setting, but I also know what it is like to be a single mother who earnestly wants to learn, and doesn't want to miss classes because there is nowhere to leave her child. My sister, a single mom with a four-year-old daughter, attended this school a couple years ago, and I can honestly say that without my help she would have been doing the same thing as the young mother in my class. But maybe my peer didn't have a sister that lived in town and could help her out like mine did.

First, I want to point my finger at the school. I think it's preposterous that we do not provide daycare for any parents who attend our school. Colleges are not made up of only 21-year-olds who are childless children themselves, still depending on mom and dad for rent money. We have a diverse student population, and that includes working parents who could use a little help in the children department. I think if the school can afford a fountain with names carved into it that runs constantly and is totally useless, they can afford a daycare. If our school can afford a million plasma television sets which hardly anyone watches, they can afford a daycare. You know what other schools do? They set up a program in the education department, so that future teachers can get experience watching and tutoring their peer's own children. It's effective for both parties and it's cheap.

I don't know whom to point my finger at next. The girl and her daughter left the class after 20 minutes anyway, after she realized that her daughter could not sit still like a statue for an hour and half. Honestly, she should have known better. But I don't think she should be penalized for being a mother by not being able to attend her classes. As for the girl sitting near me who was so very annoyed, who had once called herself a feminist, she is not helping the situation at all. As a feminist, I think mothers should be supported one hundred percent, which they are not in this country. Women have the most important jobs of all--carrying and taking care of children--and the government hardly pats us on the back. Most women don't get paid time off, and obviously at our school, women do not benefit as mothers. I think this so-called feminist could have been a bit more tolerant, rather than only focusing on herself and how she was distracted and could not say all the important things she wanted to say.

Until UNCW does provide facilities for parents on our campus, I feel that if a student gets permission from the professor to bring a child to class, that other students should be more tolerant. Mothers and fathers should not be penalized for being parents, which is the result if they have to miss class. Also, I want to add that there is nothing more distracting in class than a student who makes a comment to their neighbors about what everyone else is saying in class. It's not lunchtime! I would rather have a screaming kid in class than watch someone constantly rolling their eyes at my fellow peers.

Massacre in Blacksburg--What have we learned? (FINAL)

Monday morning, I awoke shortly after 8 a.m. and began preparing for my day that I thought would be just like every other. I hurried off to my first class where I was surrounded by 18 other strangers who I have come to know only because of classroom discussions and the daily roll call. When the clock reached the top of the hour, I rode my bicycle back to my house, as I do every day and turned on the television while I got a bite to eat.

What appeared before my eyes instantly captured my attention, as news anchors on every major network reported a tragedy at Virginia Tech University involving the death of students, much like myself. I knew right then that this day was anything but ordinary, especially for those students in Blacksburg, Virginia.

A student who may have seemed typical at first glance opened fire and killed a female student in a residence dormitory before murdering the resident adviser. Two hours later, after filming and mailing to NBC a “manifesto” package describing his motive, he walked into a classroom and proceeded to massacre 30 more people and wounding many others, before taking his own life.

Now, this heartless killer is becoming infamous and his manifesto is broadcast over all the major networks for the world to see.

The media have abused their technological capabilities in an effort to boost ratings and increase profits. The ethical line was drawn when network editors were forced to decide whether or not to air the killer’s multimedia manifesto. As the nation became sucked in to television news drama of reporters hugging the wounded victims and political icons expressing their sorrow, NBC released submitted videotape, pictures and transcript detailing the ruthless murders of these students. The line was crossed at this point, because some would argue that it was unethical and didn’t sustain any news value by furthering or advancing the information in the story. Rather, this manifesto glorified the killer by giving him an immense amount of airtime to broadcast his message.

NBC should have been more mindful and cautious when deciding whether or not to air the images. I feel sorry for families of the victims who have to deal with seeing the killer of their child, sibling or relative every time they turn on the television. There is no way that seeing this insane murderer wave a 9mm pistol all over the television, will help with coping after such a tragedy.

I also hope that other unstable, depressed or otherwise insane people across the nation do not become inspired by the notoriety of this killer. Criminologists suggest that these types of murders are similar to those that occur in political arenas. The killer sets out to send a message and utilizes every media outlet possible to do so. Al Queda did it effectively after 9/11 and Cho Seung Hui attempted it last week.

On a local level, these tragic events that occurred Monday morning have also made me more aware and cautious of the people I associate with every day. We don’t always abide by the golden rule and treat each other with the respect that we all deserve. I think Cho Seung Hui was obviously insane but the root of it may have been in broken relationships and hateful events in his past. Often times, we are so caught up in the activities of our day that we take for granted so many things that could change in an instant and affect us for the rest of our lives. The students that accompany us in class may seem typical at first glance, just like Seung Hui, but perhaps they have depression and anger built up inside of them. We need to embrace each other as peers and friends, regardless of disagreements or physical differences. Everybody needs a hug from time to time or just someone to talk to. We encourage you to open your hearts and minds to a stranger because you might just be the difference that sparks a change of plan before another tragedy strikes.

Home Is Where Your Parents Are

Pinehurst, North Carolina: a golfer's dream, a middle-aged tennis player’s paradise, and a shop-a-holic’s Mecca. This quaint Southern area could also be called my hometown.

Growing up in a small town where everyone was always “heading to the greens” or “just in from a vicious set of doubles” one is expected to always follow the mainstream. If your pink, Lacoste polo wasn’t neatly pressed, then you were the social outcast. And nothing, not even a parent-teacher conference, was important enough to cancel a Swedish massage Thursday afternoon with Helga at the Pinehurst Spa.

I greatly appreciated the fact that my parents didn’t fall into the category of typical parents in “the Pines.” They weren’t snobby to people who weren’t members of the club and were horrified at the thought of donning matching tennis suits. My parents did enjoy lunches at the club and afternoon tee-times, but above socialites, they were parents. My mom always picked my siblings and me up from school and did homework with us, and my father made sure he was home for dinner every night.

Like my parents, I didn’t want to always conform to the Pinehurst lifestyle. I did like shopping at the boutiques downtown and sitting by the pool at the country club, but I didn’t want to grow up to be the typical “Pine’s” soccer mommy.

I always knew I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in Pinehurst. So senior year in high school I decided to apply somewhere I knew would be laid back and accepting of everyone: here, UNCW. As soon as I was accepted I kissed life in Pinehurst good-bye.

Wilmington is a complete 180 from life in Pinehurst. I can go to class in my pajamas, or bathing suit and coverup and no one cares. It’s so relaxing to know that I can wear my Rainbow sandals every day of my life and not be judged. I’ve realized that enjoying a sunny day is more important than being pissed off that someone took the best tee time.

Last year, my freshman year, going home was a challenge for me. I saw old friends and parents of friends that were still stuck in that “preppy go lucky” mindset, worrying if they had the latest Sperry’s or not. The first few visits were spent trying to switch back into Pinehurst mode. I realized after a couple visits home that I’m much more comfortable being the Wilmington Hayley, and old friends from home can take or leave it. I’m glad to see I’ve evolved into who I want to be, not what my town wants me to be.

Since I’ve experienced the drastically different lifestyle of Wilmington, I could never go back to living in Pinehurst. Home to me now is just where my parents live; I don’t feel any strong connection to the way of life there anymore. Because of this I haven’t gone home much this year. However, my family does come here to visit. I like to think of it as an escape for them to come seaside and visit me in stress-free Wilmington.

I now understand that although I grew up among the straight-laced, wealthy, country clubbers, I don’t have to be that. I can be a freckled faced, sun burnt, golf despising blond. And I like that.

Banning Out Of Blunder?


Earlier this week a senseless crime took place. On the campus of Virginia Tech a gunman rampaged through students, professors, and anyone else who was in his way. While what happened is sad and deplorable, I’m already worried about the backlash that is ensuing.

This guy, who I shall not name, was an English major. He wrote stories. Some, if not all, were riddled with Tarantino-esque violence. There were chain-saw killings of mothers and fathers, kids and friends, stuff that even I admit was brutal.

Yesterday as I was flipping through the channels I was shocked to hear a CNN anchor declaring that this all could’ve been stopped if the writings of this killer had been taken more seriously.

I find this unacceptable. I tend to give everyone a forty-eight hour pass on how they react after a tragedy, but this was downright censorship. The anchor went on to say that such stories should not be allowed to be written and if they are, they should be turned in and red flagged.

This, my friends, is that first fall down the ever more slippery slope. While what happened was sad, it is by no means grounds to limit the creative mind.

Sure, there might be a better argument for gun control-- I mean both groups jumped on the tragedy about thirty-one seconds after the last bullet hit the ground, but I beg of you, please be careful where you side.

In this post-Don Imus world the right to speak, write, or do what we want, within the law, is becoming dangerously under fire. It is ridiculous to believe that if someone would’ve taken this psychopath’s stories and turned them in that this could’ve been prevented.

When what you write can be seen as the way you will act, we are in for a grouping of circumstances that I consider to be dire. With that mind set some of the best books ever written would be planning for some of the most severe crimes that this world has seen. It doesn’t make sense.

When you look at the most violent crimes committed in America there usually aren’t paper trails of violent stories telling you that this person was insane. Timothy McVeigh didn’t write a play about blowing up a building before he did it. Ted Bundy’s murders weren’t documented in his own personal piece of fiction that he worked on in between murders.

I don’t mean to sound like a conspiracy theorist but this can all be linked back to one thing. A large percent of this country wants to ban guns. Take them out the mainstream, which is hard to do, for one reason. The first amendment states Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

If you can start by limiting free speech, which in this case is the right to write whatever you want, you can start curtailing some of the other amendments that fall after the ever important first.

When you change the rules once, they can begin to change them forever. Nothing could’ve prevented what happened earlier this week. When a nut-bag like that guy decides he wants to do something so severe, there is little that can be done to stop him. If guns were illegal, he would’ve gotten one illegally. If his writings would’ve been red flagged, he would’ve just been a red-flagged writer.

But, if you or anyone says that if someone would’ve stopped him from writing what he did, or taken what he wrote as his intentions, you’re wrong. We are allowed to write what we want to write. And if you take away that, you’re taking everything.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Go See Grindhouse!


I’ve never been a fan of zombie movies and too-realistic stalker thrillers…until now. Since I heard about Grindhouse, Tarantino’s latest project with another director, I knew I wanted to see it. I love Tarantino’s approach to film and the social-political satire he incorporates. I knew only two things before I purchased my ticket: Quentin Tarantino was involved and the film was a double feature.

With leftover nachos and bottled water stuffed in my oversized purse (guys, there are benefits to ladies’ large purses), I sat in the middle of the row. My friend informed me the first film was a zombie film. I had no idea what to expect because I normally don’t watch scary movies. The next three and a half hours of my life were amazing.

The first part, titled “Planet Terror,” was full of gore. Human flesh was being ripped off bodies, disgusting growths were being popped like blisters, and hyperbolized characters filled the plot line. It was marvelous! The local barbecue restaurant was called “The Bone Shack” and was managed by the town sheriff’s brother. The unhappily married doctor couple was hysterically funny. The babysitter twins were outrageous. But, my favorite part of all was Rose McGowan’s deadly zombie blasting leg-gun. I didn’t care how she managed to shoot a firearm attached to her recently amputated leg from a laying position. These were minor details that, under such stressful and suspenseful conditions, were realized much later.

Between the two films is a ten minute intermission. DO NOT LEAVE THE THEATRE DURING THE INTERMISSION! It might be the funniest part of the movie. It is full of fake movie trailers that will make you laugh obnoxiously loud to the point of embarrassment, followed by an insane case of the giggles. All I have to say is, prepare to be stuffed.

The second film, “Death Proof,” is about serial killer—his weapon, a badass car. I have to admit I couldn’t help but cover my eyes in parts of this movie. Stalkers and car chases are a bit too realistic. The film has long girl-talk sessions. The chit-chat got old, but was obviously making fun of female socialization. The stunts in this movie were mind-blowing. From what I understand, one of the actresses was Uma Thurman’s stunt double in Tarantino’s Kill Bills. The stunts and chases will make your hands sweat and your heart race. The final frame, not the final scene—I can specify the frame—is worth the anticipation and wait.

Overall, the two films ooze with artistic vision. They are satires of old-school thriller movies with amazing computer graphics. I do not recommend this film for anyone with a weak stomach. In the beginning half hour, a kid ran out of the theatre. But, if you can stomach over-the-top gore and high suspense, all while being able to appreciate the unorthodox with a sense of humor, you will love this film. I’ll even go with you and see it again.



Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Alyssa Milano and The MLB

Alyssa Milano is probably not best known for her passionate love for the Dodgers and baseball; in fact, she is probably best known for being hot and a sister in the TV show Charmed. Recently her love of baseball has become more public. Many of her exes have been baseball players. She says that instead of enjoying the nightclubs her peers do, she prefers to go to ballgames and has met "a few really great men." She has also created (and continues to work on) a fashion line based on MLB teams, mostly for women, so that she and others can wear fashionable clothing and support their favorite team. Finally, MLBlogs has given Milano her own Blog named *touch* 'em all, TOUCH being the name of her clothing brand.

I found out about this blog through AOL's The FanHouse blogs. Matt Watson basically wrote a "review" of her first blog. He made a joke about the name of the blog and her dating history. This annoyed me some, but he also mentioned some positives and gave a basically relevant review.

There were two other "reviews" that were written by Larry Brown. One he titled "Watch Out Russel Martin, You're Next for Alyssa Milano" in which he states that her reason for saying that Gonzalez's arm is weak isn't because it may be weak but because he's married and she can't date him. He makes a few other comments about her dating life.

Alyssa Milano calls him out, and while the blog had little to do with actual baseball, it seemed it needed to be said. She asks him to find better things to do with his time, essentially, and feels that there is a double standard in dating.

His response is that she is in the public eye so she will just have to deal with them looking into her dating life and asks if Milano mentions Derek Jeter negatively because he turned her down for a date. She was expressing her opinion about a topic that applies to many women using herself as an example; he wanted to make an example out of her.

It frustrates me as a woman and as a lover of baseball that some people, often men, can't get over the fact that women have an opinion about sports. One minute I hear complaining about how women don't understand how important a sports game is and the next minute women who do love sports are being told that they can't possibly love the sport for the love of the game.

Milano has only made a few posts in her blog and they have been generally personal or broader than just baseball. I enjoy reading them because I feel she is insightful about baseball in a way that relates to life for the modern woman, things that most men have not experienced. She hasn't gotten much chance to really "talk baseball" though she has voiced her opinions clearly and without hestitation, something I appreciate. Her blog is not likely to be acclaimed for her insight into baseball. But if you're going to criticize her, grow up and criticize her on her lack of in depth discussion and not about who you think she wants to date next.

Monday, April 16, 2007

The Devil Wears--Gucci?

If you have had the pleasure of reading the novel, The Devil Wears Prada, then wait until you've forgotten what happens before you see the movie.

At first word of this movie coming out I raced to Barnes and Noble to pick up the book. From the moment I opened the book I could not stop reading. I read it between classes--and at meals and even stayed up just to read it. This book consumed me. This is a huge statement for me considering I have not been an avid reader since my school forced us to have a reading program. It is a book that if you have an evil boss, or anyone evil in your life, you would take in every tip and think every thought Andy Sachs, the main character, had. This novel made me feel exactly what the characters were feeling; the movie, however, did not.

After finishing the book I anxiously awaited the premiere of the movie. Finally, I was sitting in the movie theatre watching The Devil Wears Prada But wait--Andy Sachs had a roommate; she never cried to her co-workers and Emily certainly did not get ran over by a car. The whole time I watched the movie I was thinking, what book did these writers read? They might as well have changed the name to The Devil wears--Old Navy or Abercrombie.

I left the movie disappointed and angry, where as the people that watched it with me loved it. I was actually sad that I had read the book first. I was ready to call the writers and ask them exactly what they were thinking. They had left out some of the best parts and added parts that were nowhere in the book. It is like going to Dairy Queen to get an M&M blizzard and them putting Butterfingers in it instead.

My expectations were so high for this movie that I was let down. Maybe my expectations were too high, but it’s because the book was written so well. In the book Miranda was much meaner to Andy Sachs and the whole relationships in the book were different.

I am not saying that this movie sucked. It was just shocking that they had actually changed so much of the book. I actually own the movie; when I watch it I just make no relation to the book whatsoever. I have heard great things about the movie from people who hadn’t read the book. I am just warning those who haven’t seen it--the movie does not do justice to the novel. My advice is to skip either the movie or the book; just don’t do both because it’s a waste of time.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Amano's Worlds


Japan, land of the rising sun and home to some of the world’s oldest traditions, has become in recent times a hub of modernity. While still being rooted firmly in the rituals that for centuries defined a culture of honor, obligation and discipline, Japan has also evolved into a main center for fashion, industry and children’s television. It is this intersection of ancient custom and current trends that currently defines the nation, as well as the extraordinary artwork of Yoshitaka Amano.

Amano’s art has always stood out among his contemporaries in Japan. He inherited the classic techniques of his homeland and fused them with the capabilities of technology, being at the same time a classic and modern artist. In the foreword to “The Complete Prints of Yoshitaka Amano,” he writes, “I grew up in the 1960s, when Japanese popular culture was filled with Disney movies, American comic books and American television. Pop art and Psychedelic art, too, were on the rise. I began printmaking in 1992. Up until then, I had been a made-to-order artist, working on character design for other people’s animation and games, and fantasy art for other people’s picture books. Gradually, I felt the time had come to create my own worlds, following my own vision.”

Those worlds are full of contrasting themes and ideas. Whereas many of his paintings burst with color, flowing lines and an almost lyrical force, others are full of dark, erotic and foreboding images. Some of the prints have a refined, polished style much like European art, full of medieval men and women in romantic scenes and others display his Japanese heritage, using finer brush strokes and featuring slender figures in kimonos. But whatever the scene, Amano never confines himself to one style. From one painting to the next, his methods and approaches vary. He will paint simple line patterns and then switch to a colorful collage of creatures spread across vast space.

One of the unifying aspects of Amano’s art, though, is his penchant for fantastic landscapes and characters. He began his career in television and game design, including working on most of the installments in the popular video game series, “Final Fantasy,” and that taste for the surreal has lingered in most of his work. The people in his prints are often adorned with strange clothing, surrounded by obscure beings and floating through the sky. There are women riding mechanical monsters, Vampires seducing the foolish and Siamese triplets attached at the waist.

Another distinctive feature in his art is the way he forms the human shape. Most of the people (men and women) are lean, with narrow shoulders and thin waists. But the most peculiar detail is the feminine quality of the men. They have soft features, sad eyes and delicate smiles. Some close portraits are so ambiguous that determining the sex of the character is impossible.

Whatever medium he adopts, Yoshitaka Amano’s art is always unique, sophisticated and full of wonder. The book covers a retrospective of his printmaking career, and tracing the evolution of his art helps one understand how detailed the artistic process can be. Whether he’s painting castles in the sky or the intertwined limbs of lovers, you can expect that his images will stir your emotions, and once your eyes have been opened to his many mystical worlds, you'll never view the real one in the same way again.

Dead Poets Society (FINAL)

Peter Weir’s 1989 film Dead Poets Society is a powerful and moving account of teenage life in a strict boarding school. The main characters are a group of boys who are expected to abide by stern rules from school faculty as well as their parents, who they rarely see. Every part of their life is planned out and high expectations are placed on them to ensure they have a successfulfuture. The boys always do as they are told with no disrespect to authority.

When Robin Williams’ character, Professor Keating, arrives at the boarding school, he introduces new alternative methods of teaching English that interest the students in thinking outside of the box. He reveals to the boys an ideology of carpe diem or “seize the day” as well as teaching them to look at things from a different perspective. He tells them to stand on their desks or move at a different pace in the courtyard during a class lesson, encouraging them to think beyond what they have been told by authoritative figures and begin marching to the beat of their own drum.

Five teenage boys are especially motivated by Keating’s teachings. Charlie, Todd, Cameron, Knox and Neil reveal a secret club known as the Dead Poets Society when looking through Mr. Keating’s annual from when he was a student at the same boarding school. After confronting Mr. Keating and receiving a few words of inspiration, the boys began sneaking out after curfew and meeting in a cave down the road from the school, where they would recite and act out poetry.

The authoritative figures including the school administration and the parents place blame for the erratic and untraditional behavior on Mr. Keating. Neil, played by Robert Sean Leonard, receives the brunt of the criticism and punishment for acting out of rule. He was inspired by Keating to “seize the day,” and with that, he began to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. He tried out and made lead role for the local production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He was proud of and excited by his accomplishment but his father was extremely disappointed because it didn’t fit in with his plan of the future. He wanted Neil to become a doctor, meaning there was no time for acting or pursuing anything that wouldn’t aid in his future plan.

The climax of the film revolves around Neil’s struggle with giving in to his father’s expectations or following his dreams of seizing the day. The pressure becomes too great and tragedy strikes at the boarding school. The boys are forced to examine the value of their existence and assess their priorities.

Many adolescents deal with the same struggles to find purpose and meaning in life. I was one of those kids and it only took one experience to point me in the right direction.

When I first saw this film, I was a high school sophomore at Cary Academy. I was in my world history class, taught by a highly educated and well-traveled Dr. Mark Newmark. It was the first day of class and as we took our seats, he encouraged us to make ourselves comfortable anywhere in the room and to keep an open mind as he queued up the tape. As the film played in its entirety, I became absorbed and inspired by each of the characters.

High school is a pivotal time in any adolescent’s life, as they struggle with authority and try their best to figure out their purpose. This movie encourages teenagers to think outside the box and inspires them to follow their dreams.

Mark Newmark was the closest teacher I have ever had to a real life Mr. Keating. I don’t remember a single detail about world history from his class but I took away some very valuable life lessons and learned a tremendous amount about myself.

I would recommend this movie to any teenager looking for an entertaining and eye-opening film.

Although the acting isn’t superb (except for Robin Williams and Ethan Hawke), any adolescent will be able to relate to the boys in one way or another. Others might find the storyline a bit juvenile, for they have probably learned the same lessons during their youth.

Overall, this film offers a healthy dose of education, entertainment and drama, which in my mind is money well spent.