For some reason, I kinda don't wanna write about some of the stuff that happened... But I feel like I should. So here we go~
I guess I'll first address this book that I chose for Language Arts. It basically had to be an American book about social issues. Yup. Only requirements. I made a few picks, but wasn't sure about them. Ultimately, I asked a tutor to show me a few books in the LA rooms that I could use and I picked on the last one.
I'm about halfway through The Man in the High Castle by Philip K. Dick, and it's seriously really interesting. I haven't read anything like it. I mean, I guess that's usually because I don't really read stuff that has to do with war, though this is more about the aftermath than fighting itself. But yeah, it really gives a different perspective on things. I totes recommend it.
But on the way to doing so, I considered a few other books, one of which apparently had a lot of "adult themes", as the tutor described it. He gave me the rundown of one scene and... oof. That was not just mere adult themes. Hardcore. So... I ultimately decided I was too scared of the book to read it.
But then, when we went about to the classroom libraries, he asked my sis about how well I handle that sort of thing and she was like "Oh, not at all. She doesn't like seeing kissing. She can't stand seeing puppies die." How she was so flippant about my apparent sensitivity to topics like that kinda hurt my feelings, and I actually felt myself start to tear up in embarrassment and sads, but I think I sucked those tears back up before they were obvious. I mean, if that happened it would've proved her point 10x over and I would've felt even worse.
Am I really that bad? Like, that stuff is technically still true... even the kissing thing, though I'm more tolerant of it, I think (and hope). I've had to become more resilient to that sort of thing and much worse because of the sorts of things talked about and stuff on the Internet that I've stumbled into. Social media. Fanfics that get more intense than I expected. In this sort of world, you have to be able to just deal with stuff like that, or at least ignore it the best you can.
And yes, I'd rather not look at something like that. Frankly, I sometimes wonder why other people would even want to include something so disturbing in a story or whatever. But am I really a total weakling because of it?
Of course, I'm not gonna go traumatize myself by looking for that stuff so I become tougher against "adult themes", but... ugh, am I just being butthurt about this? It felt like my sis insulted me, but I don't think that was her intention. But she could've still said it nicer, not with a scoff and "um, DUH" kind of tone. *sad pout*
K, now to things that matter a little more. So I have most likely mentioned this one family we've been friends with since forever, but I don't think I gave any codenames for the members of that family. Mm, what's the name of the siblings in A Series of Unfortunate Events? I know the oldest is Violet, but the other two... *Googles it* Ah! Klaus and Sunny! Well, the kids in this family don't have the ages so different between the three, but I'll still call them by this.
Anyway, so they all learned (or, in the case of Sunny, is learning) how to play piano at a young age. The one that is the best at piano is Klaus. Like, he is ridiculously good. And he was having a solo piano recital.
Of all the siblings, I've been the closest to Klaus, then Sunny, then Violet. And so, I wanted to make it to the recital if we could. It meant I had to leave school earlier and my mom and I went on a journey to Orem to get to the recital, but we made it just in time.
That boy really is amazing. He played almost an hour straight of really difficult pieces- some of these were famous classical and baroque pieces!- and hardly broke a sweat. He basically only messed up maximum once within one song, and a few I don't think he messed up at all. And most of these difficult piano pieces he had memorized. No sheet music at all. If you aren't impressed at all, you're... meh. I can't think of a proper adjective.
Anyway. I went. And in a new dress. It's a little more black than I like seeing myself in, but it's a really cool Alice in Wonderland dress from Hot Topic, and I was excited to wear it to school (and we got a matching one for the birthday girl at the quinceañera) especially because I knew I could just keep it on and look nice for the recital. My sis didn't cuz she and her friends decided to do a trip to LA, starting on that day. Hope they're all okay and having fun!
After that, we went to a Japanese restaurant near the venue of the recital and it was SO GOOD! And they had a little scrapbook thing of drawings that people left to thank the restaurant for the meal. So some of them were really cute, or funny, or just really cool. And, as I knew my parents would say, they suggested that I leave a drawing too to maybe make it into the art book.
But the thing is, it was going to have to be a quickie, so I knew it'd look like how I did my drawings somewhere between 6th and 9th grade. Not very impressive. And I didn't even know what to draw. So I doodled something based off a weird idea that was basically "something to do with a girl and sushi". Then this happened.
That's what happens when I'm not feeling super artistically-inspired. Though I will say the different parts aren't that bad, considering. All together, though, it's confusing. I hope the text makes it make a bit more sense.
Now, I'm gonna say something that I've never said aloud before... I never cared too much about the whole racism issue between blacks and whites.
Hear me out, okay? First of all, I'd never even met very many African-Americans in the first place. Like, there was sometimes one or two in my class... And we never really talked to each other. There were more at my school in Alabama, but they still never really talked to me beyond necessary except for one time, and that one time I was accused of being racist when I wasn't. Ya wanna know what happened?
I was just minding my own business during a free period, and (I never know if I'm supposed to say "black" or "African-American", but I guess so I do less typing I'll say "black") a black guy asked me if he could borrow a pencil from me. It was one of the only ones I had at the moment, so I said "Uh, yeah, as long as you actually give it back." He then immediately replied, "That's racist."
Like, are there really people that are just waiting for you to say something that could be taken as discriminatory so they can accuse you of doing such a thing? I had no intent of that sort right then and I never intend to offend people like that. I just stared blankly for a moment as I processed what he just said and then felt a bit ticked off when I realized he was saying that I thought all blacks steal or something like that. Um, NO! I said that because almost every time I let someone borrow something from me they don't give it back! I say that to basically anyone that asks me!
I told him as such, and I begrudgingly gave him the pencil anyway. And guess what?
He didn't give it back.
If that's what happened for the first conversation (if that even counted) with a black person that I remember, coupled with my dad who likes to say that nowadays blacks are the ones that are more racist than whites, then it makes more sense why I wasn't as concerned about the treatment they apparently received from whites. I felt bad about not caring as much as I should, but I just... couldn't. Not when it was the fault of both sides for things not being fixed between the two races.
Well... I knew I'd have to care a little more because of Carter.
He's half-white, half-something else, like me and my sis, but rather than Mexican that other side's black. And we actually asked each other about family and culture and, even, racism. He admits he's dealt with some from both sides, but he's a firm believer in equal treatment for blacks. And, well, if he says there isn't equal treatment, then I'm gonna believe him.
But I still say that this conflict is not getting better because there's people being oversensitive and even butthurt too easily. Like, that guy that "borrowed" my pencil can't be the only person like that. He expects everything anyone says to him to be an attack when it's probably not most of the time. If people cared less about wondering if someone would be racist against them and just have civil conversations, the situation would already be improved. But that requires the effort of everyone, especially the butthurt.
I've used the word "butthurt" three times already in this post... Or four, with this paragraph. Wow.
I think I pretty much covered everything... Besides that I was considering talking about a new fic idea, but it's kinda late now. Maybe if I really start developing it more I'll talk about it next week. Bai!
WAIT I WATCHED Kiki's Delivery Service ON MONDAY! Now I'm done.
No comments:
Post a Comment