Jessica Hung Cen, Period 7, 3/1/22

 Jessica Hung Cen

Period 7

3/1/22

Modern Mythology 2022

I was born on a cold, winter night. The wind howled and the snow blanketed the ground, layers upon layers of white. When my mother went into labor, the storm became her warden; she could not go to the hospital. My father was at work that night, similarly trapped inside his office, leaving my poor mother to give birth to me alone for several painful hours. When my cries finally filled the room and she cradled me in her arms, she lit a candle. The first of many.

With every birthday I celebrated, my mother lit an appropriate number of candles matching how old I turned that year. I never questioned it since other families had the same tradition, but a part of me felt that this ritual was different somehow. Special. There was meaning to it but I didn’t know what it was. All I know is that each year, I felt a little warmer as an additional candle was lit. 

The year my mother lit ten candles for me, my family went to a sunflower field during summer vacation. Something caught my eye and I remember following it. I can’t remember what it was, perhaps it was an insect or perhaps it was a ball of light. Either way, it led me to her. She took my breath away when I first laid my eyes on her. I forgot how to inhale and exhale. Her eyes met mine, warm pools of honey in the sunlight. She greeted me and introduced herself, voice sweet (it was almost cloying) and melodious. I thought to myself, this is what love must feel like. 

When I finally remembered how to breathe, I smiled and introduced myself to her. Things were simple back then and we became easy friends. We played all day, hours passing before I remembered that I had to get back to my family. Hearing my parents’ worried cries, I stood up and told my new friend I had to go. Her face stretched into a wide smile that showed her teeth (why were they sharp?) and told me goodbye. After reuniting with my parents, I was met with angry concern. They asked me why I wandered so far, how I ended up a mile away on the opposite side of the sunflower field. I protested. I hadn’t walked for long before I met her! Ignoring their lectures, I tried to introduce them to the friend I just met. When we got there, however, she was gone. And it felt like she took my warmth with her. 

She left me shivering and I could not stop shivering until my birthday. As my mother lit eleven candles for me, it felt like I was finally pulled out of icy water. This warmth wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed to feel the warmth of standing next to her. 

That same year, as if some god decided to take pity on me (they were tired of hearing my desperate prayers), she appeared before my eyes again. She transferred to my school and became my classmate. Once again, we fell into an easy rhythm. And that’s exactly how I would describe knowing her: easy. Talking to her, hanging out with her, loving her — everything came naturally to me. I was caught in her web, but I never wanted to be let go. 

The following year, I invited her to celebrate my birthday with me. With a bright smile and a honeyed mouth, she charmed my parents. The four of us formed a picturesque scene; a smiling family gathered to celebrate a birthday. When it came time to light my candles, she requested to do it for me. It was a new ritual for her, she claimed. After all, this was the first time she celebrated a birthday. Instantly, that caught my parents’ attention. They asked her when her birthday was, so we could celebrate it with her. “I have no birthday,” she said. 

Naturally, I replied, “Today can be your birthday, then. We’ll celebrate it together every year!”

That was my first gift to her: my birthday. My second gift to her comes in two years’ time. The year my mother prepared fourteen candles for me, she is once again present to celebrate our birthday together. As she entered through the door, my parents pulled her in for a hug and they gave her a kiss on the forehead. Her eyes (darker than the day I met her, dark brown like mine rather than honey) welled up with tears. Under my parents’ concerned gazes, she explained that she lost her parents. Knowing no other way to comfort her, I ignored the hesitant voice in the back of my mind and told her that my parents loved her like a second daughter. She could claim them as her own. I thought that I could simply make her my wife someday; she would call my parents “Mom” and “Dad” as their daughter-in-law. 

Three more years pass. Seventeen candles are lit. She is given a third gift, though I had no part in it. My parents present a prettily-wrapped package on our birthday. She opens it and finds adoption papers. Dread wells up in my stomach; this was not the way I wanted her to take my last name. I wanted to marry her and give her this part of me. Instead, she takes it from my parents. 

My parents explain to us that we’ve known each other for so long. To them, this naturally felt like the next step. Besides, we were so close that we were becoming similar anyways. They told us that we dressed similarly, spoke similarly, and had similar mannerisms. 

My father laughs, “Sometimes, I feel as if the both of you are the same daughter, split into two different bodies.”

I am cold once again, thrown back into the icy waters I drowned in when she left me for the first time. The candles cannot save me this time. They’re partly hers now, but it feels like she took the heat of all seventeen candles. I excuse myself from the party, feigning illness. They ask me what’s wrong, but I have no answer. While leaving, I glance back. The picturesque family has been reduced to three. 

On the day eighteen candles are lit, three things happen.

First, she calls me away, under the pretense of a private conversation. Still a fool in love, I follow her. Before I could ask her what she wanted to discuss, her hand plunged into my chest. In the split second before she ripped my heart out, I felt warmth again. Her hand was a warm caress, gentle and soothing, tamping down my raging feelings before they could even fully form. As I watched her bring my heart to her mouth (filled with sharp, sharp teeth), I could only think of three words. I love you.

Second, she finishes eating my heart. I lay there on the ground; my body cools. My spirit is still chained to earth (chained to her). I blink. She looks different. She opens her eyes, and I see myself staring back at me. 

Third, she returns to my her parents. They welcome her into the house, and give her a warm hug. My mother lights eighteen candles for her and my father wishes her a happy birthday. They do not ask where I am. 

Salina Huang, Period 7, 2/28/22

Modern Mythology 2022

Salina Huang

2/28/2022

Period 7

Senior 2021

There she was again. My eyes were glued to her as she entered the doorway, locking the door behind her. With a mug of hot chocolate and a book in her hand, she settled in the blue bean bag by the window. She would sit there and read for hours, as I admired the changes in her emotion. 

Outside of this room, she wore a stoic expression. However, when she read, her face became lively. Laughter, grunts of annoyance, or tears—I always cherished the shifts in her delicate features. Although I could not wipe her tears when her favorite character died, I still admired how beautiful she looked when she cried. 

I fell in love with the way she tucked her hair behind her ear to keep it out of her eyes. I fell in love with the way she stretched after she finished a long book. I fell in love with the way she color-coded her books on the shelf. For as long as I could remember, I watched her come home and read by the window until it was too dark to see the pages. 

Of course, this was a one-sided love, she didn’t even know of my existence. I was not of her kind either. All these years, I watched her from the inside of the mirror on her wall, forever confined in this glass prison. When she smiled at herself in the mirror, it lit up the darkness where I resided.

One day, she burst through the door, a panicked look on her face. Huh? This was unusual. Behind her was a man, tall and broad. She backed into the wall, her eyes wide with fear. The man seemed to be her father, as he shared her flowing brown hair and round black eyes. 

His deafening voice bounced off the walls, but I could not understand what he was saying. He swayed slightly when he walked towards her. Was he drunk? Suddenly, he became violent, yanking her precious collection of books off the shelves and sending them flying. She sank to the ground, arms shielding her head. He launched a thick book at her and it pierced her skin. I watched as blood trickled down her fair skin. I wanted to scream.

In the blink of an eye, a book with a blue cover came flying towards me. The mirror shattered.

No.

NO.

The last thing I saw was her beautiful crying face. I was surrounded by darkness and could hear nothing but the pounding of my own heart. I cried, and cried, and cried. The same stories that allowed me to fall in love were responsible for the shattering of my heart. All that I had now was a broken mirror.

And a broken heart. 

Cristina Diaz, Period 8, 3/1/22

 ​Russian forces just attacked Ukraine, and I can’t help but think of all the parallels between the invasion and Grendel. Every person who criticizes petitions as being useless reminds me of Red Horse, and my team discussed the similarities between Putin and the Shaper. I only wonder how much of the news we are receiving has been Shaped. This novel has really made me question my views, more than anything I’ve ever read before. They seem most similar to Hrothulf’s, but he seems naive and all too susceptible to Red Horse’s radical ideas of revolution. What makes me question my own ideas even more is when Grendel’s rationale begins to make sense. In some places he seems wildly bitter and almost reasonable in others, and I wonder if I am the one whose mood has changed between instances. 

​I’ve never really bought into the ideas of nihilism, if only because I need to believe in some kind of larger purpose to serve as motivation. I think a lot of it is personal choice rather than absolute truth. Grendel has all these outside forces trying to sway him, when belief and philosophy should really be introspective. Obviously I can’t compare my formative experiences to Grendel’s, but I think if he spent time with Ork and Wealtheow early on, rather than the Dragon and his mother, he might not think of himself as a monster, or the world as meaningless. 

​It’s easy to question the Shaper, and say the media and all of history has been skewed, but it was a lot harder for me to think about Ork and the priests. I consider myself to be fairly religious, but I don’t know if I could ever exhibit the blind faith Ork has in the King of the Gods. I don’t want to be as cynical and hypocritical as the priests, but I also know I would probably react similarly to how they did if presented with an old priest who claimed to see God. I’d like to say I could outgrow that, but I think people tend to trend towards cynicism rather than away from it. I just hope I can minimize that, and remember all the good there is in the world.

Holly Denig, Period 8, 2/28/22

Goal setting

At this current point in time, what specific goal(s) do you have for yourself? Why?How do you demonstrate resilience towards achieving this goal? (or these goals?)How does the world around you affect your perception of this goal? (or these goals?)

Right now, my specific goals include creating a consistent and balanced schedule, between personal life, schoolwork, work and staying physically and mentally healthy. In the fall I expect to be enrolled at Florida State University, and I need to start preparing to live in a dorm and take more responsibility for myself. I already feel that I’m fairly self sufficient and independent and can maintain balance, but I falter at times and it is difficult to bounce back and regain my focus. I spent time over the break reading a book I recently purchased about methods and strategies to maintain balance in all areas of my life, gain self confidence, and improve current relationships.(These can include relationships with others, myself, eating and exercising and other habits) Another one of my goals was to read more, and I wanted to start with a book that could help me form positive habits. I also want to make sure I stay dedicated to school in this last semester, because even though the grades I receive now will impact my life as much as previous years, I want to end the school year on a positive note. In this final stretch of the year one of my goals is to study more and figure out the best time management for me. 

I demonstrate resilience in achieving these goals by restarting everyday on a positive note. One tool that has helped me with this has been gratitude journaling, in which I spend time each morning journaling things to be grateful for and optimistic about. This helps me to put anything that upset me the previous day behind me, and come back from setbacks. For example, if I do poorly on an assignment, have a fight with an important person in my life, or make a lot of mistakes during a busy time at work, waking up the next day and being able to appreciate the positive things allows me to clear my head and release my focus on something dragging me down. Although this didn’t really apply much over the school break, I have been trying to form a schedule that allows me to fit all parts of my life into each day, but I have also been working on having patience with myself. My goals include being consistent everyday, but in the past I’ve struggled with beating myself up over an imperfect day. Although I strive to keep a routine and stick to it, I’ve realized that it is important to allow myself forgiveness when my day does not go according to plan, and not everyday has to be identical. If I miss a workout, or end up staying up later to finish homework that slipped my mind, or took me longer than expected to finish, it is not the end of the world or worth becoming upset over. Allowing myself this forgiveness has helped me to regain motivation the next day and get back on track. I have also found that this year, my time management has improved greatly, and when I’m managing my time well I tend to be less stressed out. 

At this time in my life I’m watching my friends become more independent and passionate about their futures, as we all try to make difficult decisions about the next chapters of our lives, however I’m also watching my parents and family become more nervous and worried. My family is immensely proud of me, but also concerned about how I will do away at school, as many parents are. My parents' concern serves as a reminder that taking care of myself needs to be the priority, over anything else, especially when I will be responsible for myself next year. My mom has taught me a lot about independence, but I think I will always still be learning from her, even after I am an adult myself. What I’ve learned and observed from my mom has shown me that independence is not being able to do whatever you want, rather making decisions that best serve you and your well being, and keep you balanced, and on the track that you want to stay on. 

Lisa Gerasimova, Period 8, 3/2/22

Lisa Gerasimova

Modern Myth Period 8

3/2/22

Literacy & Learning

    We’re reading Grendel. I love it. From the moment I read the first paragraph of the first chapter, I was in love. I understood Grendel, I felt for his struggles and empathized with his self-destructive decisions. A classmate told me after the first chapter that she hated Grendel. That I could not understand. Grendel is a novel where every single word, every space and comma and period have untold meaning. And sometimes I’ll read over a sentence, have no clue what it means, then read it seven more times, still at a loss for what it means except I know it means something beyond important. It’s ineffable. Then I’ll write it down and go into class waiting for the slide where we analyze that sentence. Grendel has meaning even when you’re not quite sure what it means. And despite everything, despite Grendel’s supposed ‘detachment’ from humanity, his villainous history, sometimes I think he is far more human than Unferth or Hrothgar or Hrothulf combined. His moral and ethical struggles make him a complex and ever-learning creature, and I feel myself learning with him, rooting for him, suffering with him. 

    Grendel also sticks with me far beyond Period 8 Myth. All day I think about what happened in the chapter I read last night, and for a few hours after school, before I fall into the ever-present rhythm of work and transit, I can still feel myself surrounded by some sort of Grendel-aura. I am not someone who commits to nihilism, either perspective that we have covered in class, but here and there I see the pleasure of it. I can understand the satisfaction of convincing oneself that everything is meaningless when every day feels like the exact same thing over and over and over again. I can see the logic in needing to believe that in the end, nothing matters for anybody when you’re so much worse off than someone else, or when the world seems too terrible with war and hate to begin to change. I also know that this outlook on life will not lead to more meaning, and more likely than not, less happiness than in other cases. Hope drives humanity after all. 

    As for a worldly view: I am Grendel watching another stupid war. Another pointless arms race of who has the better guns and who is superior and who can spread the most propaganda and who can cover their motives better. I am watching the Hrothgars of the world face off while their citizens get caught in the crossfire, and all the while the Shapers spin stories this way or that. The parallels of our world and Grendel’s are innumerable, and yet the lessons are never learned. And like Grendel, the more I hear about the glory of one Hrothgar, or how poor Hrothgar of ‘this place’ is such a victim, the more insufferable it gets. Too many shapers and too many Hrothgars are the center of attention today.  Too much information, too many voices changing the history of the past minute for motives they won’t disclose to anyone, yet everyone can guess. Grendel helps me keep my eyes and mind open. It helps me force objectivity onto emotion-driven opinions that arise from me. Our lessons remind me that the only thoughts we can trust are the ones we’ve looked at from more than one angle, because behind every story, movement, and idea, there is an agenda.

Amanda Cheng, Period 8, 2/15/22

Amanda Cheng

Period 8

2/15/2022

Beowulf and Grendel were intriguing texts to read, showing the duality of a “monster” from two different perspectives. Written from the hero's perspective, Beowulf displays the story of Beowulf. The story treated Grendel and his mother as monsters with the sole purpose of terrorizing the town. By extracting the emotional aspect away from Grendel, the text made him seem like a body that just kills people. However, Grendel by John Gardener brings so much more depth and thought into Grendel’s character. Grendel exhibits behaviors like a teenager, where he rebels, explores, and is easily influenced. Grendel struggles to find his purpose in life, and feels alien to everyone else while not knowing where he came from. I enjoyed reading both stories because the different perspectives change how I view what a monster is. 

The concept of nihilism and existentialism was extremely thought-provoking to me. Personally, I’ve gone through these thoughts occasionally of “why does this matter?” to “what purpose do I serve in this world?” Especially since college applications are over, my thoughts of second semester senior year are split into both philosophies. Sometimes, senioritis would tempt me to care less about my learning than before, since “it doesn’t matter as much” which correlates to nihilism where my performance in school and my extracurriculars at the moment does not impact my college acceptances. However, my thoughts are combatted with my strive to be successful in college and after graduation, where the classes I take now is an advantage for the classes I take in college. Additionally, I still don’t know what I want to do as a career but hopes to make some sort of impact, which leads me to question my place in the world. Overall, the passages we read in class displays philosophical ways of thinking that are still applicable to the world today. 

Jayden Huang, Period 7, 2/17/22

 Jayden Huang, Period 7, 2/17/22

Write about your thoughts regarding any of the fiction or nonfiction covered in class.

Reflect on any new information you have learned in English class by considering how that learning influences your critical perception.

How is what you’re learning applied to any other classes/the world around you?

Recently we’ve covered Chapter 8 of Grendel by John Gardner, specifically how it addresses the issues of power and authority. I found this chapter interesting and a little confusing to read. It veers from recounting Grendel’s spiel of thought and instead recounts events and speeches from Hrothulf. There’s dialogue and poetry weaved together in an overall commentary on the idea of the state. It felt like a break from the rest of the story and it brought up ideas to reflect upon. 

I was intrigued by Red Horse’s idea that all revolution is pointless as it replaces one oppressive government with another that declares its rule to be better than previous. This pattern is especially evident in the case of redlining. Assigning investment scores to districts was advertised as making it easier to get a loan for a mortgage, making housing cheaper and more readily available. However, this locked those in lesser-rated districts to where they were in social standing. They couldn’t get loans and as such these communities were trapped in a cycle. No investment meant no growth, and no growth encouraged future lack of investment. The cycle seemed to break with a “revolution” in the form of gentrification. But no matter how many high-rise condos were promised, life did not improve for the people in these communities. Rent soared, driving them away yet again to under-invested communities. 

I agree with Red Horse’s sentiment, that true justice can never be achieved. I see a parallel between this and the idea that life is meaningless because we’ll all die anyway. Where I truly agree with Red Horse is when he says “‘If you want me to help you destroy a government, I'm here to serve. But as for Universal Justice–’". Life is meaningless and revolution is pointless, but that doesn’t mean we should lie down and accept that. Pushing for change in your government is like putting/finding meaning in your life to escape the idea that nothing matters. It seems to me that Red Horse is to Hrothulf as the dragon is to Grendel. They both preach the pointlessness of their respective conflicts and how the best we can do is to continue anyway. 

All this philosophical talk makes me reflect inwards onto my own philosophy, how do I see life?  At the end of the day we’re just specks in the timeline of the universe so it seems that my life has little meaning. But there isn’t anything that has a significant impact on the universe, besides the big bang. If I look at things from the perspective of the universe, nothing matters. But the only perspective I have is my own, and in the grand scheme of my life the most important thing is to have enjoyed it. To me, this doesn’t mean being constantly happy all the time. As much as I hate a bad day, I can’t know a good day without one. It is the sum of all the good times that to me, makes life meaningful and worthwhile. 

David Gao, Period 1, 2/16/22

I blinked. But I didn’t, I couldn’t. Blots of darkness blocked my vision as I opened them for what felt like the first time in years. I saw a mess of red and black splotches; completely still but my vision was still blurry. I tried to look around but my eyes stayed locked in front of me. I strained my fingers, but they did not move. My arms were frozen, completely stuck in place. My legs were steeled in place, and yet I did not feel solid ground. As I regained feeling of my body I realized I was suspended. My body was locked high above the ground, me facing downwards. The feeling of falling did not subside but there I continued to stay, unmoving. The sun casted a shadow somewhere in front of me, longing to extend but moving no further. Regaining my composition after realizing I would not fall I focused on my surroundings. There were people gathered close, scattered all around the area, sitting, standing, recording? Many people’s arms were extended towards me, their phone screens capturing everything they saw. There were people covering their mouths almost as if in horror, people looking away, people crying and people running away from the area beneath me. Focusing on the center of my vision I saw splatters of red, surrounding what seemed like a painting of sorts. As my vision adjusted I was able to see all the red bordering the centerpiece. I saw fingers, arms, and legs, though they were not in quite the right positions. It seemed to be a girl, her hair was long and dark, like mine, though they were red at the scalp. Pavement stained with red, clothes soaked with red, body drenched in blood. She was sprawled out on the ground, she was dead. Her eyes stayed open until the end. They looked far off into the sky, imagining a place other than here. Did she regret it? The moment after the jump, the wind cutting at her, the plummet into the ground, the feeling of her body being twisted and mangled, the pain of still living for a moment after the impact, and the still nothingness that came after. Though my memory failed me she still seemed familiar, as if I had known her, or still know her. It felt like I recognized the way her hair fawned out around her like she was lying casually on a cool wooden floor. Her eyes were the same shade of teal blue as mine, her eyes that always seemed to be distant except for when she was looking at me. Her bracelet, the one that was also on my wrist, the one on which we promised to leave never the other alone. I felt warm tears flow down my face, the moist line it creates as it travels down my face, the tinge of saltiness when it drops into my mouth, the stress that makes my head hurt, the build up of a cry about to escape my throat, a cry of pain, of sadness, of fear, but no such sound escaped me. My face was completely dry, my eyes stayed fixed. There were no tears for me to taste, no ache in my head, no stabbing in my heart. My body held steadfast. My mind had given me a taste of humanity, but it was quickly locked away. The pain that I had felt was fake; a product of the humanity I had, but now there was nothing, no feeling. No pain, no fear, no sadness. There I stayed staring into her eyes, unable to look away, the one person I had cared about right below me, unable to look me back in the eye, so I waited. I waited for the moment when I would finally join her, the moment my pain would end, and time passed, or rather didn’t, but my existence continued. I continued to exist, on and on and on, forever and ever, and I stayed there, in the air unable to feel sad, unable to mourn, a simple fixed state of just being. Her painting before me, to be admired forever.

Nikita Erastov, Period 7, 02/11/2022

 Nikita Erastov, Period 7, 02/11/2022

 

Literacy & Learning

Write about your thoughts regarding any of the fiction or non-fiction covered in class.

In class, we’ve currently been discussing the book Grendel, which is written from Grendel’s perspective on the humans around him and his thought process. Specifically, we devoted the lesson yesterday to discussing Chapter 5, in which Grendel travels to speak with a dragon. The dragon is a very powerful omniscient being that is able to see into the past and the future. Since he knows everything that will happen and when it will happen, the dragon adopts a Nihilistic perspective on life, failing to find meaning in anything except material possessions, such as the gold he is highly obsessed with. It is at this point in the book where the main philosophy transitions from existentialism to nihilism; as the dragon pushes his views on Grendel, Grendel begins to doubt his purpose and his reasoning for scaring the humans. One instance that I found familiar from the chapter was the dragon’s perception of time. He tells Grendel that whatever he, himself, and the humans do will be forgotten as time goes on. He states that a second is nothing when compared to an hour, just like a million years is nothing compared to a billion years. He compares everything to swirling dust, signifying the insignificance of everything in the grand scheme of things. This made me remember late night thoughts that I am sure most people experience, during which they acknowledge their size compared to the expanding universe, making them feel small and unimportant. 

Since the world of Grendel and Beowulf has ties of Christianity, Grendel’s mental journey to the dragon could also be compared to a journey to hell, with the dragon’s questioning mindset being compared to Satan. Many Christian-related texts constantly use imagery and symbolism to compare events, and I respect the fact that Gardner chose to include Biblical imagery in the book. 

 

Reflect on any new information you have learned in English class by considering how that learning influences your critical perception.

Although I was aware of Nihilism before, reading about it from the dragon’s perspective almost made it sound hypocritical and selfish. For example, the dragon has so much power and knowledge that is being wasted because of his fixation on gold. Instead of attempting to find actual meaning or purpose, he chooses to believe that nothing has a purpose. He also forces these views on Grendel, which could also be compared to people succumbing to peer pressure. However, there is also a positive that I understood from the dragon’s views: since he knows that everything will eventually come to an end, the dragon chooses to live in the moment and provide happiness for himself alone. This is similar to a mindset I have been attempting to have, since I think I dwell too much on the past and focus on the future a lot. Instead, if I devoted energy to “living in the moment,” I would probably find life more enjoyable and fulfilling. It’s ironic that the dragon doesn't see a purpose in life when he lives in the moment by guarding his gold all the time. 

 

How is what you’re learning applied to any other classes/the world around you?

As stated prior, I was aware of Nihilism, but I did not think of it as an answer to the questions that are valued in existentialism. Based on the conversation between Grendel and the dragon, I have been able to see other perspectives on life, no matter how dark they might be. However, learning about a philosophy that claims life has no meaning and then walking out into a large city had different effects. A while ago, it hit me that everyone around me on a bus or a highway, for example, has their own individual life. This life causes different actions, different cultures, different personalities, different places to be, and so on. Therefore, I feel like after learning about Nihilism, I find it impossible to exist in a world filled with such individuality. Since Nihilism seems to have a uniform approach, I do not think its views would be accepted in a community filled with vastly unique individuals. Moreover, Nihilism has given me an even deeper appreciation for the world around me, specifically its intricacy and variety.

Nicole Duran, Period 1, 02/16/2022

Nicole Duran
Period 1.
2/14/22
Modern Mythology 2022

Socio-Political Consciousness

On Maus & Banned Books

It was maybe a month ago when I got the book. It was only this year that I learned the last good comic book shop on the island was just a few blocks down from school, next to the library. My mom wasn’t too happy that I discovered it, said I wasted too much money on books I would finish in less than an hour. Still though, I’d go in and browse the shelves and come out with one or two or sometimes if I’m lucky three to go home and read right away. I remember going deeper into the store, looking past the kids books and manga and marvel towards the queer books and the comic strip anthologies. There I found a little square book, paperback with red and yellow and two little mice in front of a Nazi flag. It wasn’t my first time seeing the book. I bought it that very same day, but I didn’t read it until much later.


The same book showed up much more recently, not even a week has gone by since I saw it flying past the Twitter trending page. Something about it being banned in Texas, being added to the ever growing and ever stupid “Banned Books List.” I saw it there the other day, and I looked on my bookshelf where I had left it and decided to read it through. It was much longer than I thought. Where once I flew past pastel protagonists discovering their inner strength I stared down at black and white mice that painted a picture of pain so intense that not many other books had been able to instill in me. I wholly admit that as a child I was fascinated with the Holocaust. I’d see book after book in scholastic catalogs about horrors that I don’t think I could ever begin to understand. When you’re a child though, every book is a story, and it takes a lot of growth and a lot of learning for that story to become reality. I’ve read books about the Holocaust. I’ve read The Boy in the Striped Pajamas and The Book Thief. But Maus? Maus isn’t so much a book as it is real life.


I mention all this as an introduction, however if given the chance I would discuss my thoughts on the book in its entirety. As much as I could, anyway. It’s a series, and I’ve only gotten through part one of many. The first part of Maus was written by Art Spiegelman in 1980, telling a story of his father’s experiences as a Polish Jew in World War II, and the strained relationship he held with him all these years later. You might imagine then, why a book like this wouldn’t exactly be looked kindly upon by those with more conservative viewpoints. Looking through The Banned Book list you’ll find story after story banned due to near anything under the sun. From queer characters to people of color, to mentions of rape and sexual content. It seems like just because something is perceived as “bad” or “controversial”, it should be done away with entirely. With a lot of these books I’m sure people could argue that the author didn’t have to include these topics, an argument that while justifiable is rather stupid. A lot of people don’t have to do a lot of things, but if we based our worldview on that then I think very little would get done as a whole.


It also raises a counterargument: What if the book did have to be this way? I think this is where The Banned Book List goes from childish to downright harmful (not to say it was ever good, but this is where I think it hits a turning point). It’s one thing to try and silence a fictional story, one that may or may not be influenced or inspired by real life events, but it’s another thing to silence a biography, the very life and experience of a living breathing person, just because some parents or school administration believe it to be “a little too much.” History is not kind. It’s not meant to be. To censor a very real, very tragic event that has killed millions, is not protecting children. It is erasing and reconstructing our world to where the bad guys have won. There are very few Holocaust survivors left, very few who will remain to tell their story before history takes them too. What kind of world would we live in if we failed them?


For Maus specifically, it’s an issue of ignoring history so heavily it’s negated. For every book on The Banned Book List though, it’s an issue of bigotry. When parents and school officials say it’s “for the children” it’s never the way they want you to think. It’s not that the children are impressionable and will be shocked and copy what they read. It’s that children are impressionable and will start to think. What world would we live in where a trans woman can walk down the street without fear of being murdered? What example would we set for our children if they start wondering why the clerk side eyes their black friend while shopping? What backwards thinking would we be encouraging if we tell kids with ADHD that they’re worthwhile?


I remember in August of 2017, I was staying at my great aunt's house in St. Louis with my mom for a few weeks. It was a few months after my grandma had passed and we were happy to be around family again in a place that wasn’t fogged by mourning. I remember getting ready for bed scrolling through my phone when I saw the articles. Riots were starting in Charlottesville. I saw photo after photo of fires and flags, from Confederate to Nazi to Gadsden. I sat with my mother as we looked at what was happening, a resigned acceptance that this was what our world was like.


I’ve had to act normal while talking to friends who firmly tell me that Trump isn’t racist.


I’ve been seated in a half empty diner for nearly forty minutes, all but refused service because my mom and I are not white.


I’ve had to change college plans because I can’t go to certain states without worrying about my safety.


I’ve had to sit through zoom calls where guys with less than half a brain have decided to make me the object of their sexual jokes and fantasies because I so dared to sit.


I’ve had grown adults surprised by my wellspokeness and manners far too many times to be normal.


I’ve been embarrassed in front of classes because teachers have feigned ignorance when confronted with the reality that they need to wear a microphone in order for me to hear them.


I say this all not for pity or attention, but to make a point. Every single thing in these “banned” books has happened to someone in real life. Every. Single. One. It doesn’t matter how small a detail or how miniscule an event. Those that refuse to accept this, refuse to accept reality. To those people, you’ve lived a very small and sad little life.

Stanley Chen, Period 8, 2/9/22

Stanley Chen, Period 8, 2/9/22

Literacy & Learning

Write about your thoughts regarding any of the fiction or non-fiction covered in class.

Reflect on any new information you have learned in English class by considering how that

learning influences your critical perception.

How is what you’re learning applied to any other classes/the world around you?

The exploration of nihilism and existentialism in Grendel has helped me reflect on myself and

my path ahead. In the past few months, I’ve noticed this unhealthy apathy developing for many

of the tasks in my life. This has even spread towards activities I enjoy such as music. I don’t

hate what I have to do, but even when doing the things I enjoy I don’t have the same positivity

as before. I have some challenges within my classes, but those don’t feel insurmountable. While

I am unsure about my road ahead to college, it’s not something that creates a huge amount of

dread like I expect it would. From time to time, I do experience existential dread but it’s no

overarching conflict and more of a passing question.

These challenges seem infantile in comparison to all the positives in my life. Unlike Grendel, I

still have my parents and friends who are able to understand me. I’ve become more social over

the past year and opened up more about myself. I’ve never been a very social person but

ironically over the pandemic, I found myself more drawn to people in general. I’m somewhat

excited to be moving onto college where I have to be responsible for more in my life and have

even more experiences to meet an even more diverse set of interests and personalities. So

despite all these things going right, why do I feel so apathetic?

In a nihilistic sense, this is normal since nothing truly matters. These relationships, as important

to me as they are and these people are to me, are not technically “worth” anything. However,

like heroism, their value is derived from what we give it and how we act according to our own

morality. Through our discussions on nihilism and how a purposeless Grendel was able to find

purpose in giving it to others as an enemy, I’ve discovered how to give myself a purpose by

wanting to surround myself with people but rather as friends and different lenses of life.

Valerie Chen, Period 8, 2/14/22

Valerie Chen 

8th period 

02/14/2022

Modern Mythology 2022

What are your thoughts and feelings about issues of inequity, oppression, and/or power?

Coming from the background of a Chinese immigrant household, I’ve seen and experienced many instances of inequity. Being called names in school and getting made fun of for awkward pronunciations was nothing new. I was often associated with “ching-chong” and fried rice throughout my childhood because of my ethnicity. The thought of reporting my situation to an administrator never appealed to me because it was seen as “tattle-telling” and “making a big deal out of nothing”. I was scared of being excluded from my peers even more and decided to keep the mocking and rude jokes to myself. In my head, I didn’t think the administrators would do much other than tell the kids to stop which they would just ignore. A few years later, although there is a big percentage of the population trying to promote equity among different ethnicities and cultures, the issue continues. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the issue exploded with hate crimes and Anti-Asian backlashes. My family and I had to live in constant fear of getting cursed at and attacked in public for the false accusation of Asians starting the pandemic. There were few government actions taken to defend us against all the violence. The media’s daily report of new cases of Asian hate crime intensified the situation. Every time my parents went out to shop for groceries I was in fear of them returning with injuries or sickness because of the pandemic and Asian hate. I felt trapped inside my house as it was seen as the only safe place keeping my family and I against the public’s hatred and profanity. Overall, I felt that there are more actions said than actions taken. Despite how hard people try to deny it, the root problem of equity still exists in society, and there are still hidden social stereotypes and stigmas waiting for a moment to explode. I feel like there should be more actions taken by authority figures, not just the media and the people who don't have direct influence over political decisions.

 

How do you reflect critically on your own beliefs, assumptions, values, and experiences, and how these can influence your perception of self and others?

My reflection of my beliefs, assumptions, values, and experiences came from my family. They taught me to never be ashamed of who I am or where I came from. Instead, I should be proud to share my beautiful culture with others who have never heard of or experienced it before. In middle school, I began bringing in traditional Chinese food like dumplings and peanut noodles for lunch. I started sharing my lunch with my close friends to help them get a better understanding of my culture and that we are not just about fried rice and lo mein. In high school, I joined the Asian American Culture club which deepened my understanding of my own culture and taught me the value of spreading my culture with others. I also learned to embrace other cultures and beliefs as every culture deserves its respect. 

David Burns, Period 1, 2/14/22

     “Mom isn’t home ” (T. McWhirter, 18) “again.” (J.D. Vinge, 14) “Or she’s sleeping, ” (V.M. Caldwell, 165) “or dead.” (M. Cormany, 86) “What difference does it make?” (A. Chekov, 22)  “I sit alone in my room, ” (M. Engle, 110) “not daring to make a sound.” (M. Wright, 31) “Sounds bring ” (R. Gans, 32) “comfort, and ” (K. Kolcaba, 11) “home is not a comfortable place.” (J.W. Dougherty, 63) “Sitting up in bed, I pull ” (S.R. Anderson, 82) “one of my blankets up ” (A. Sewell, 196) “around my chest ” (D. Vega, 74) “and sigh.” (E. Welsford, 13) “My bladder ” (L. Gillespie, 22) “implores me to “ (R.A. Clay, 44) “get up, but “ (H.B. Beatty, 58)  “with a practiced motion I “ (B. Whittington, 13) “rotate my hips “ (J. Nicklaus, 92) “perpendicular to the “ (A. Bernau, 18) “mattress, “ (S. Muir, 9) “dulling the pressure.“ (S. Perkins, 148) “That should buy me a few more “ (T. Hudson, 56) “precious minutes in bed.” (K. Woodward, 54) “The blanket slips “ (S. Gooch, 50) “off my shoulder, “ (C. Henry, 158) “but this time I let it go; ” (C. Robinson, 279) “I can’t be bothered.” (G. Benjamin, 41)

     “I search for the '' (R. Sommers, Unstrung Heart 28) “earbud that’s “ (P. Stokes, 108) “surely slipped out “ (E. Lustbader, 166) “during the night, and pop “ (J. Menzies, 31) “it back into “ (C.F. Meyer, 136) “its little home.” (B. Aronson, 2) “I’ll let it charge “ (J. Fluke, 309) “while I wring “ (E. Blyton, 7) “the last couple minutes “ (M.E. Singletary, 69) “of waking left.“ (J.G. Cozzens, 93) “The fan’s “ (H. Jenkins, 18) “familiar hum “ (B.A. Hoena, 11) “is no longer enough “ (F.M. Esfandiary, 10) “to occupy my mind, “ (S. Ross, 42) “so I grab my phone “ (D. Whitney, 34) “and see dozens of “ (M. Rice, 122) “frivolous “ (R.C. Cassingham, 156) “notifications.“ (B. Miser, 59) “Games I don’t play, “ (B. Seabrooke, 4) “memories that don’t matter “ (J. Picoult, 77) “anymore.“ (M. Jongman, 24) “Months old messages “ (J. Udell, 57) “I keep “ (B.E. Ellis, 31) “inveigling myself “ (J. Lasdun, 138) “I’ll respond to “ (J.E. Lloyd, 65) “clutter my screen, “ (J. Mueller, 532) “and I sigh as I “ (C. Leo, 207) “swipe past “ (J. Gardner, 17.) “them once more.“ (A. Austin, 49) “Someday I’ll get back to these “ (S. Brown, 20) “old pieces of myself.“ (R. Schreiber, 52) “Nothing important again, “ (D. Toscana, 103) “guess it’s time “ (C. Sunman, 104) “to get up now.“ (J. Van Zyle, 6)

     “I fish out the “ (A. Kwok, 121) “shirt wedged in the “ (J. McKinley, 116) “space between my mattress and the wall “ (A. Lamott, 217) “and brace myself for the cold “ (J. Pearce, 250) “and abrasive “ (R.L. McKee, 30) “fabric to take the place of the “ (G. Freyre, 164) “blanket around my torso.“ (R. Rense, 223) “It's always cold, “ (A.I. Goldfarb, 20) “because of the fan.“ (D. Meyer, 117) “I don’t know why I expected anything different.“ (S. Jump, 123) “Shuffling to the door “ (M. Williams, 34) “I listen for signs of life “ (G. Brown, 260) “on the other side: “ (A. Barnett, 210) “nothing.“ (K.C. Cole, 240) “Thank fuck.“ (I. Welsh, 42) “I’m not prepared to “ (J. Orton, 32) “form words from thoughts.“ (A. Bookner, 253) “I take a “ (A. Dayton, 13) “detour downstairs, “ (A. Trigiani, 85) “taking in the living room “ (C. Paredes, 264) “in the only way “ (M.G. Hamilton, 44) “I feel safe: “ (A.U. Reverman,6) “when no one else is here.“ (B. Bellingham, 31) “I remove the clutter “ (S. Harding, 34) “from the loveseat “ (G. Bolton, 54) “and set it on the sofa.“ (M.E. Little, 112) “The fabric here “ (L. Hammond, 26) “is stiff and cold.“ (L. Tse, 71) “It’s not long until I “ (M. Yates, 27) “move into the kitchen.“ (T. Timmons, 59)

     My stomach aches, but I “ (S. Castille, 175) “can’t bring myself to eat.“ (L. Watson, 43) “It’s not hunger “ (D. Shor, 31) “anyway, “ (S. Parkinson, 54) “something else is eating me “ (D. Matza, 340) “from the inside out - “ (J. Sutherland, 69) “or more accurately, “ (A. Koyré, 3) “has already eaten me.“ (C.M. Yamanaka, 337) “I open “ (I. Chorão, 7) “and close cabinets “ (D. Kelly, 109) “in an endless hall, “ (M, Bell, 86) “each filled with more “ (L. Linsey, 60) “nondescript bottles “ (R. Nalley, 16) “than the last, “ (J. Mostafa, 13) “none of them mine.“ (B Elizabeth, 22) “I swirl around “ (P. Dowding, 200) “on the tile floor with “ (M. Blouin, 97) “freedom, but “ (J. Paxman, 143) “the feeling doesn’t last.“ (E. McCabe, 78) “I sulk in the corner “ (M. Martone, 38) “chair of the table, “ (C. Harrison, 282) “but that too “ (A. Di Nardo, 37) “doesn’t last.“ (M. Cristofer, 124) “Just a return to “ (J. Gunstone, 117) “nothing, like always.“ (R. Wirick, 130) “Time for “ (J. Stearn, 25) “the dreaded bathroom.“ (L. Dean, 106)

     “My eyes are focused on the “ (S. Turnbull, 83) “dirty faucet “ (L. Wood, 74) “to avoid the girl in the mirror.“ (H. Bingham, 326) “I go through the motions and “ (P. Major, 75) “consciously force myself “ (J. Thacker, 25) “to brush my teeth with a “ (N. Jordahl, 147) “grating “ (R.A. Sawyer, 65) “mnemonic.“ (H. Hilton, 42) “I sigh.“ (K. Jaros, 112) “This was inevitable, wasn’t it?“ (P. Spike, 133) “Looking up, “ (B.L. Felknor, 16) “I don’t recognize her.“ (J.B. Shaw, 2) “Not for the “ (D. Boek, 197) “body she holds “ (T.L. Carus, 53) “but for her mind; “ (D. Brown, 46) “that hodge-podge “ (R. Pinget, 13) “mind of hers.“ (W.D. Howells, 47) “Not an original thought “ (M. Kennedy, 15) “of her own, “ (M. Thomas, 26) “a mindless mix “ (L.L. Mitchell, 1) “of those around her.“ (A.M. Miller, 212) “The quintessential “ (W. Bower, 20) “yes-woman, “ (F. Burleson, 112) “malleable putty “ (R. Sommers, Getting There 85) “of a person.“ (G. Englebretsen, 9) “Identityless.“ (D. Lockwood, 37) “I peel my eyes away, “ (K. Spafford-Fitz, 89) “back down to my hands.“ (D. Ives, 169)

    “I’m in bed, “ (J. Curry, 62) “shirtless again, “ (A. Ayckbourn, 16) “wrapped in the warm, “ (S.A. Horn, 30) “soft fiber “ (I. Adler, 6) “of my blanket.“ (H. Recorvits, 20) “The pieces of me, “ (C. Martin, 81) “or rather “ (C. Simon, 14) “the wholes “ (I. Newton, 124) “I’ve “ (L. Cave, 15) “leeched off of, “ (J. LaBrecque, 124) “have left more messages.“ (D. Fletcher, 118) “They’re not worth looking at “ (J. Creasey, 138) “now, they all say “ (C. Elias, 46) “the same thing anyway.“ (T. Leary, 37) “I turn over onto my stomach, “ (M. Brooks, 123) “blindly reaching “ (B. Terrell, 53) “around my back “ (K. Jaimet, 10) “to adjust the covers.“ (D.A. Taylor, 171) “I make sure that “ (T.M. Brenner, 7) “not an inch of the “ (Britannicus, 25) “thick, wool blanket “ (L. Monacelli-Johnson, 94) “my mother gave me “ (M.K. Wetterer, 19) “is touching my skin, “ (P. Friederici, 116) “that’s what my personal “ (T. Carrington, 139) “blanket is for.“ (P.O. Lewis, 15) “A barrier, protecting me.“ (Miasha, 74) “I shut my eyes “ (T. Hunt, 22) “and thoughts “ (G. Ebbs, 185) “swirl wildly “ (A. Ram, 75) “in my head.“ (N. Morgan. 1)

“Who am I?“ (E. Sirimarco, 42)

“Who ”(J.C. Lavater, 128) “am I?“ (M. Gussow, 20)

“Who am I?“ (I. Drach, 34)

“Who am ”(G. Heard, 16) “I?“ (S. Hamilton, 86)

“Who am I?“ (J. Cronin, 447)

Who am I?

Works Cited