Can you imagine?

Can you even imagine?


Education The schools for white children and the schools for negro children shall be conducted separately. Florida
The Blind The board of trustees shall...maintain a separate building...on separate ground for the admission, care, instruction, and support of all blind persons of the colored or black race. Louisiana




How could there be such a world as this? When I read these laws, all I can do is ask question. How could people be so cruel? How could a white person look at another human being in their different colored face with disgust? How could they not look at the mirror at themselves and realize something is wrong? How? The word repeats itself ever time I read a new law. How.


Children were brought up to believe that being different is a bad thing. But not only this, white children were taught that black people were different from them. They were taught that as being different is bad, then black children therefore must be bad.    


In one way of thinking, it wasn't necessarily these people's faults for believing this, considering this is the way they were brought up and the things they were taught.  On the other hand, there is a point when a person should understand the circumstances and realize that they have been taught wrongly.


On the third hand, what if it was one of those things that people just don't pay as much attention to? For example, animal right currently could in the future be related to jim crow laws. If animals end up gaining more rights in the future, then those in the future could look at us currently and think of us as cruel. So in a sense, we could be just as cruel as humans were in the past...when you think of it in that sense.


All in all though, I believe that regardless, Jim Crow Laws are horrible, inhumane, and break my heart to even imagine a reality where they existed. 

Enough

     After reading each and every short story, I realized that even though they were obviously short (hence the "short stories" title), each writing is full of enough depth that by the end of it, I felt like I knew each author. I felt like I could understand their problems or dilemmas, but more specifically their emotions about each subject.  After attempting at writing, I realize the difficulty in putting so much emotion into a piece that the reader actually feels the emotions along with the author.  But even though each of these stories were less than two pages, all of them succeeded with this aspect....only making me feel even worse about my literary narrative. yay.
     Another thing I noted while reading through the short stories was that all of the authors knew that they wanted to be writers at a very young age.  Brendan Gill said that he knew about what he wanted to be when he was four.  I don't even remember being four! The first time I remember ever knowing what I wanted to be when I grew up was in 5th grade, I wanted to be a lawyer.  Who always dressed in pink.  And incase you didn't make the connection, I wanted to be the girl from Legally Blonde.  The only differences were that one) I wasn't blonde. and two) I also wanted to be a ballerina on the side.  There is a nice realistic dream for you.
     In Brendan Gill's short story i noticed some very grammatically incorrect sentences, and I wondered why he would write the story like that.  I enjoy reading it, because it is simple to read, and easy.  But I know he must have had a better reason in doing so.  Why would he write out dialog without using quotation marks?  I sure hope that this is grammatically incorrect and I am not just making a bigger fool out of myself then I already am...
     Before I complete my rambling on about parts and pieces that ran through my mind as I read each piece, I would love to ask one question.  Was anyone else gap-mouthed (that's a word right?) at the end of Pat Conroy's short story??  Because the second I finished that story, I went online to see if I could find any books by him online...is it bad that I found his story thrilling?  I would a story like that in a heartbeat!

Why I Write....??

       Let's start with some honesty here... I write because I am told to.  I don't mean to say that I don't enjoy writing... I wouldn't take this class if I didn't enjoy writing. I write for essays, for classes, basically anything but for fun. I'd like to blame it on not having enough time, but to stay with the honesty role I'm on, if I really wanted to write, I would make time.

       I love writing, I really do. So far, I know I'm making it sound like its a task, a chore.  But I will say that I don't exactly know how to write for fun.  Ever since I was little, I always dreamt about being that girl who wrote in her journal every night.  I could go upstairs and find 10 journals stuffed under my bed, in the back of my closet, or hidden between other books in my shelf.  But if I opened any one of those journals, I bet you could guess what would be in there.    Right, nothing! How do I start a journal? "Dear journal...How ya doin' today journal?....Why am I talking to inanimate objects journal?..." That's not how I role.

       However, I have written just to write before.  Only a couple times, but looking back on them is pretty funny.  There you go, we've stumbled upon another reason I write.  I love looking at my writings, reading about my "troubles", and laughing to myself. I love the thought of being able to read what was going through my head, bringing my memories to the surface, watching how my penmanship changed as    I get older.  

       As soon as I started this class, my dream has been rapidly returning.  Can I please be that girl who writes in a journal?  I feel like it would be a good way of un-cluttering my mind a bit.  There is SO much going on up there, it would do me good to get some of it out.  Plus, in twenty years when I look back on it, I can laugh at myself and remember my "troubles" once again.  

       Here's my last bit of honesty to leave you with.  I started a journal on Thursday that I write in every night....I love it.