I find a lot of things in my life meaningless. Homework, video games, watching TV, etc. These are mindless activities that I either use to relieve stress or to further my goals. It is in my personal goals that I find meaning. My goal is to get to college and learn, really learn. Not rote memorization, although I suppose that is a type of learning. Not doing things for a grade that will affect the rest of my life (unless I go to grad school), but learning things that I want to learn. That's part of the reason that I have the list of colleges that I have. They all have very flexible curriculum requirements so that my one activity I find meaning in can be reached sooner rather than later.
Beyond that, I have taken the risky path of choosing an academic path that may not lead to a stable job. I didn't go for engineering or pharmacy, or something solid and well known. I found that my interests led me towards Anthopology and thats where I plan to follow. While people may find meaning in those other occupations, they don't interest me, and I don't enjoy them. I don't believe there is much meaning in a life without a little bit of happiness, no matter how absurd that happiness may be,
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Friday, October 12, 2012
Candide's Punishments
For this question I'm mainly going to focus on Candide's first two punishments: his exile from the castle, and his floggings and abuse at the hands of the army.
Of course Candide's first punishment was too harsh. A simple kiss, whether towards your daughter or not, should not warrant you being kicked out of your only home you have ever known. This is especially true since he sincerely did not know what he was doing was going to be considered "wrong" by the Barron. This one incident in his life leads to him living terrible life filled with abuse, broken hopes and dreams, and murder. His punishment also in a way saved him, but as we see several other people survive the ordeal with the storming of the castle. Therefore his punishment was far greater than the crime: greater than I think the Barron intended.
As far as the army goes, they are guilty of the same crime of over punishing poor Candide as the Barron is. Another misunderstanding, another instance of Candide doing something utterly innocent like walking away from the camp to go on a stroll, leads to a punishment that is basically equalled to death. Beyond this his other punishments, such as being flogged for doing well are equally ridiculous.
Of course Candide's first punishment was too harsh. A simple kiss, whether towards your daughter or not, should not warrant you being kicked out of your only home you have ever known. This is especially true since he sincerely did not know what he was doing was going to be considered "wrong" by the Barron. This one incident in his life leads to him living terrible life filled with abuse, broken hopes and dreams, and murder. His punishment also in a way saved him, but as we see several other people survive the ordeal with the storming of the castle. Therefore his punishment was far greater than the crime: greater than I think the Barron intended.
As far as the army goes, they are guilty of the same crime of over punishing poor Candide as the Barron is. Another misunderstanding, another instance of Candide doing something utterly innocent like walking away from the camp to go on a stroll, leads to a punishment that is basically equalled to death. Beyond this his other punishments, such as being flogged for doing well are equally ridiculous.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
How Do I Know What I Know? (Gender Equality)
How do I know that gender equality is something that I believe in? How did I come to believe (or know) that the two genders are inherently equal in mental capacity (physical is another question), and that they should be paid and treated as such?
Before you read my vaguely feminist rant, here's a summary:
Going to a Montessori school with their gender-neutral bathrooms, and encouragement of whatever you wanted to play, I got used to banging trucks around in the morning and playing house in the afternoon. I think my origins in a society (okay, it was only a preschool, but still) where the confines of gender practically didn't exist really shaped the idea that everyone was equal for me.
Life went on, and I learned a little more. I learned that boys and girls are different in their physical parts, but for now, not in their strength. I was a rough and tumble little girl who was as strong on the playground as in the classroom. My mother never bothered to treat me differently than my little cousin (a boy), and family members quickly learned that any effort to push pink on me would relegate their gifts to the very bottom of my closet. Although my family learned to ignore what was "normal" for girls in regards to me, an Afterschool teacher told me that I couldn't play on the monkey bars and wear a skirt since it wasn't "lady-like": I decided not to wear skirts.
Eventually we get to history class and I learn about the inequalities in gender that exist. I learn that because I am female (and a minority at that) I will get certain privileges when applying to college (allegedly), but that other than that my dna has made my life a lot harder. At 70 cents to a man's dollar, this sort of "benevolent sexism" still runs rampant, nearly thirty years after the third wave of feminism. I knew that I was as capable as my male counterparts, and I knew my girl friends were the same. I didn't understand why it exsisted. In questioning this system, my beliefs came about: equal pay for women.
As far as treatment goes, that's even beyond money. The first time I had "Whore!" yelled at me from a speeding car I was wearing zebra print tights, boots, a skirt, and a sweatshirt: not exactly street walker chic. My friends were (sorry!) dressed even more modestly than I was, the majority wearing jeans and sweatshirts. As they complained that they hated when that happened, I started to think about all the obnoxious honks from cars with lecherous looking glances, all of the "Hey babe"s from creepy old men on the sidewalk. Ever since the 7th or 8th grade the bodies of myself and my friends have been treated as objects. Looking at the past few national scandals regarding women's rights to abortions, birth control, and pay, I know that this continued treatment of women as objects to be held on a pedestal is something that will continue for sometime. It will persist in politics, and until everyone (including other women) puts their foot down, it will never stop. That doesn't mean that I don't believe this is wrong.
Before you read my vaguely feminist rant, here's a summary:
- Argument: Women should be paid equally, even if the government has to intervene (no more "Benevolent Sexism!) How I Learned: Experience (Mostly school)
- Argument: Women should not be treated as objects. Experience: Creepy men on sidewalks who think its cute to say "Hey baby" to a 12 year old. Yeah. No. Also other women who inadvertently subscribe to this way of thinking.
Continue on.
Going to a Montessori school with their gender-neutral bathrooms, and encouragement of whatever you wanted to play, I got used to banging trucks around in the morning and playing house in the afternoon. I think my origins in a society (okay, it was only a preschool, but still) where the confines of gender practically didn't exist really shaped the idea that everyone was equal for me.
Life went on, and I learned a little more. I learned that boys and girls are different in their physical parts, but for now, not in their strength. I was a rough and tumble little girl who was as strong on the playground as in the classroom. My mother never bothered to treat me differently than my little cousin (a boy), and family members quickly learned that any effort to push pink on me would relegate their gifts to the very bottom of my closet. Although my family learned to ignore what was "normal" for girls in regards to me, an Afterschool teacher told me that I couldn't play on the monkey bars and wear a skirt since it wasn't "lady-like": I decided not to wear skirts.
Eventually we get to history class and I learn about the inequalities in gender that exist. I learn that because I am female (and a minority at that) I will get certain privileges when applying to college (allegedly), but that other than that my dna has made my life a lot harder. At 70 cents to a man's dollar, this sort of "benevolent sexism" still runs rampant, nearly thirty years after the third wave of feminism. I knew that I was as capable as my male counterparts, and I knew my girl friends were the same. I didn't understand why it exsisted. In questioning this system, my beliefs came about: equal pay for women.
As far as treatment goes, that's even beyond money. The first time I had "Whore!" yelled at me from a speeding car I was wearing zebra print tights, boots, a skirt, and a sweatshirt: not exactly street walker chic. My friends were (sorry!) dressed even more modestly than I was, the majority wearing jeans and sweatshirts. As they complained that they hated when that happened, I started to think about all the obnoxious honks from cars with lecherous looking glances, all of the "Hey babe"s from creepy old men on the sidewalk. Ever since the 7th or 8th grade the bodies of myself and my friends have been treated as objects. Looking at the past few national scandals regarding women's rights to abortions, birth control, and pay, I know that this continued treatment of women as objects to be held on a pedestal is something that will continue for sometime. It will persist in politics, and until everyone (including other women) puts their foot down, it will never stop. That doesn't mean that I don't believe this is wrong.
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