Toby Israel, Prozdor Grade 10
In the seventh grade, my friends and I began to regularly attend school dances. For all of that year and the next, I would watch other people, and attempt to copy only their simplest dance steps, for fear of making a fool of myself. Along with the majority of the bodies in the gym, I found myself rocking my hips back and forth, and intermittently walking to another point in the room for a change of scenery… for three hours!
About a year ago, I started to let go. I began to connect to the music; I felt the beat and I knew how I alone, not anyone else, should dance to it. A musical epiphany? A sudden enlightenment in the art of dancing? Not exactly. It was more of a general realization that I should be confident in expressing myself in whatever way is natural. Now if I’m dancing and I want to throw in a bellydancing move or a salsa step that I know or that I’ve seen, I do so without pause. If I want to rock out, I say, “Why not?”. Ideas pop into my head and come out as my own, unique style of dancing.
Recently a friend commented to me at one such dance that she found it difficult to be confident about her dancing when surrounded by better dancers. “I don’t look at the other people,” I replied, “I just dance.” This is because I believe in dancing like nobody’s watching.
A very wise man, Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “Whoso would a man must be a nonconformist.” I doubt Emerson was thinking of dancing when he wrote this, but the wisdom of his words rings true nonetheless. I was wrong in thinking that I needed to imitate others with me on the dance floor to avoid ridicule or even personal embarassment. In reality it was quite the opposite; I had to find my own internal rhythm in order to dance to the music around me.
Emerson also wrote, “Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.” I don’t know if I’m actually a talented dancer, but I believe that I am, I trust that I am, and that’s all the truth I need. The actual truth of the sentiment is infinitely less significant than my faith in its veracity.
I have extended my belief in the importance of uninhibited self-expression to all areas of my life. In the past few years I have become completely confident in that self-expression, and that sort of confidence sets me free. You can be free to dance truly when you dance like no one’s watching, to live truly when you live like no one’s watching; this I believe.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Live and Let Be
Susanna Sacks, Prozdor Grade 10
In fifth grade, I met an amazing girl. She sang beautifully, she was pretty, she was smart, she was funny, and she liked people to play with her hair. She still does.
Kelsey and I became best friends really quickly, and really easily. She was the person I could talk to when my parents’ fighting would wake me up in the middle of the night, and I would feel guilty for being alive, because they had to spend money on me. She was the only person I felt comfortable crying around, being honest about myself with.
Then, in ninth grade, she did something stupid. And I was judgmental. And she did the exact same thing again, and I tried to force her to see what she’d done as I saw it. Although there was never any direct confrontation, we stopped talking. We’d started growing apart, and then we stopped talking.
It took me six or seven months to realize what I’d done. And what I’d done was unforgivable, although she did forgive me. Kelsey has always been pretty, smart, a wonderful singer… but she used to be incredibly complacent. She let me and her older sister and her other friends tell her what music to like, what friends to have, what to wear...what to be. When we’d entered high school, she decided not to do that anymore, and I didn’t quite adapt. Instead, I tried to force my views on her. I couldn’t accept that she’d heard what I had to say and simply didn’t agree. And I basically killed our friendship.
After that, I began to understand what I’d always told myself: it’s okay to tell people your beliefs, so long as you don’t force them on those people. To do otherwise is disrespectful, and possibly detrimental.
In fifth grade, I met an amazing girl. She sang beautifully, she was pretty, she was smart, she was funny, and she liked people to play with her hair. She still does.
Kelsey and I became best friends really quickly, and really easily. She was the person I could talk to when my parents’ fighting would wake me up in the middle of the night, and I would feel guilty for being alive, because they had to spend money on me. She was the only person I felt comfortable crying around, being honest about myself with.
Then, in ninth grade, she did something stupid. And I was judgmental. And she did the exact same thing again, and I tried to force her to see what she’d done as I saw it. Although there was never any direct confrontation, we stopped talking. We’d started growing apart, and then we stopped talking.
It took me six or seven months to realize what I’d done. And what I’d done was unforgivable, although she did forgive me. Kelsey has always been pretty, smart, a wonderful singer… but she used to be incredibly complacent. She let me and her older sister and her other friends tell her what music to like, what friends to have, what to wear...what to be. When we’d entered high school, she decided not to do that anymore, and I didn’t quite adapt. Instead, I tried to force my views on her. I couldn’t accept that she’d heard what I had to say and simply didn’t agree. And I basically killed our friendship.
After that, I began to understand what I’d always told myself: it’s okay to tell people your beliefs, so long as you don’t force them on those people. To do otherwise is disrespectful, and possibly detrimental.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Chicken Soup without the Chicken
Melissa Itzkowitz, Prozdor Grade 10
The day I declared I was a vegetarian was like the day the music died…for my mother. Before leaving for college, my sister had been a vegetarian for four years. For four years, my mother struggled with the idea that not only did she need to prepare one meal a night, she often had to prepare two—one for my sister, and one for the rest of my family. This was a great burden and an even greater annoyance to her. Not only that, but my mother is an exceptional chef, restaurant worthy. She specializes in her “famous” chicken dishes she serves every Friday night. When my sister left last year for Smith College, she was finally able to prepare one meal that the entire family would eat and enjoy. The next week, I announced that I too, was a vegetarian.
I became a vegetarian on a Sunday. For that entire week, my mother served meat. For that entire week, I ate salad. Against common belief, I did not become a vegetarian out of spite for my mother or to be difficult. I did not become a vegetarian because my sister is one, although it probably had some influence on my decision and my ability to stand by my decision. In fact, my sister is a “special” kind of vegetarian. She will not eat anything served to her with eyes, and since none of the seafood served to her still has eyes, she will eat it. She is not a very loyal vegetarian. I am the extreme opposite. I will not eat anything that has touched meat or is on the same plate as meat. I am just that crazy.
I have been a vegetarian for about a year and a half. Some frequently asked questions are, “Why?” or “Why are you a vegetarian but not a vegan?” I am not a vegan for two reasons—one: I do not have enough self-control to be one, and two: I have no desire to be one. I suppose I am a vegetarian because I need to be. After almost fourteen years of eating meat several times a week, I began to find it repulsive. To be perfectly honest, I believe it had something to do with a story I read last year about a man who hunted and killed his prey. His victims were humans. This parallel of humans being hunted to animals being hunted supplied me with a new perspective about my diet because I could relate to the cruelty animals face everyday. I could not eat an animal ever again.
That one otherwise ordinary day when I told my mother I did not feel like having meat that night changed my life forever. I did not know if it would be difficult, which it has turned out not to be, and I did not know if I would be able to continue with it. However, I am proud to say that I still have not eaten any chicken soup.
The day I declared I was a vegetarian was like the day the music died…for my mother. Before leaving for college, my sister had been a vegetarian for four years. For four years, my mother struggled with the idea that not only did she need to prepare one meal a night, she often had to prepare two—one for my sister, and one for the rest of my family. This was a great burden and an even greater annoyance to her. Not only that, but my mother is an exceptional chef, restaurant worthy. She specializes in her “famous” chicken dishes she serves every Friday night. When my sister left last year for Smith College, she was finally able to prepare one meal that the entire family would eat and enjoy. The next week, I announced that I too, was a vegetarian.
I became a vegetarian on a Sunday. For that entire week, my mother served meat. For that entire week, I ate salad. Against common belief, I did not become a vegetarian out of spite for my mother or to be difficult. I did not become a vegetarian because my sister is one, although it probably had some influence on my decision and my ability to stand by my decision. In fact, my sister is a “special” kind of vegetarian. She will not eat anything served to her with eyes, and since none of the seafood served to her still has eyes, she will eat it. She is not a very loyal vegetarian. I am the extreme opposite. I will not eat anything that has touched meat or is on the same plate as meat. I am just that crazy.
I have been a vegetarian for about a year and a half. Some frequently asked questions are, “Why?” or “Why are you a vegetarian but not a vegan?” I am not a vegan for two reasons—one: I do not have enough self-control to be one, and two: I have no desire to be one. I suppose I am a vegetarian because I need to be. After almost fourteen years of eating meat several times a week, I began to find it repulsive. To be perfectly honest, I believe it had something to do with a story I read last year about a man who hunted and killed his prey. His victims were humans. This parallel of humans being hunted to animals being hunted supplied me with a new perspective about my diet because I could relate to the cruelty animals face everyday. I could not eat an animal ever again.
That one otherwise ordinary day when I told my mother I did not feel like having meat that night changed my life forever. I did not know if it would be difficult, which it has turned out not to be, and I did not know if I would be able to continue with it. However, I am proud to say that I still have not eaten any chicken soup.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
My Truth
Rachel Flynn, Prozdor Grade 10
I don’t have some major belief to explain in this essay, I just have my small but true belief in writing. I started writing in third grade and it opened up my eyes to a whole new world. Writing showed me how I could live my life. I could be anything I wanted, a bird flying high over the world, even a girl walking through a dream land. It also showed me truth. You can’t hide in writing because in the end you must come to terms with your problems, even if your problems seem ridiculous. A story isn’t just a story, it is a life. Characters always reflect someone, even if they aren’t meant to. They can open your eyes, even while you fight to keep them shut. I write for truth.
My parents encouraged me, especially my dad. He helped me to pry open the door that I had managed to slide open a sliver. He told me to keep writing and taught me the importance of keeping at it. He keeps telling me to this day to keep the ideas that I think are bad, and work on them to make them better. There is no such thing as a bad idea, but there is such thing as an unfinished idea. I keep them all in folders and notebooks that lay scattered across my house, and someday I will find them and work on them and they will become yet another story among many. My dad helps and he will always help. While I typed away he told me ways to make it better. He showed me that I could truly be myself in my writing, and it took off from there. Soon I was writing about imperfect situations with imperfect people in an imperfect world. I try to teach that you can’t always get your way.
A reason why writing is my belief is because I can truly live through it. I can do and be anything, even if it seems impossible. It’s a high that not many people seem to find. While some think three page essays are hard, I struggle to keep it down to four. Once I start it is hard to stop and I wish that I didn’t have to. I belief that writing is my life and that it will always hold me in its tight grasp, keeping me hostage in a world that I have no wish to leave.
I wish to show others my world. I want others to enjoy reading and writing as much I do, and believe in it as I do. I believe fully in my writing, so while others write this essay on a better day with no pain, I write about writing, and hold strong to my beliefs.
So you see, it isn’t major or big, but is my whole self and it’s all I can give you. I hope you try to understand and take this to heart, for it is what I believe, it is my truth.
I don’t have some major belief to explain in this essay, I just have my small but true belief in writing. I started writing in third grade and it opened up my eyes to a whole new world. Writing showed me how I could live my life. I could be anything I wanted, a bird flying high over the world, even a girl walking through a dream land. It also showed me truth. You can’t hide in writing because in the end you must come to terms with your problems, even if your problems seem ridiculous. A story isn’t just a story, it is a life. Characters always reflect someone, even if they aren’t meant to. They can open your eyes, even while you fight to keep them shut. I write for truth.
My parents encouraged me, especially my dad. He helped me to pry open the door that I had managed to slide open a sliver. He told me to keep writing and taught me the importance of keeping at it. He keeps telling me to this day to keep the ideas that I think are bad, and work on them to make them better. There is no such thing as a bad idea, but there is such thing as an unfinished idea. I keep them all in folders and notebooks that lay scattered across my house, and someday I will find them and work on them and they will become yet another story among many. My dad helps and he will always help. While I typed away he told me ways to make it better. He showed me that I could truly be myself in my writing, and it took off from there. Soon I was writing about imperfect situations with imperfect people in an imperfect world. I try to teach that you can’t always get your way.
A reason why writing is my belief is because I can truly live through it. I can do and be anything, even if it seems impossible. It’s a high that not many people seem to find. While some think three page essays are hard, I struggle to keep it down to four. Once I start it is hard to stop and I wish that I didn’t have to. I belief that writing is my life and that it will always hold me in its tight grasp, keeping me hostage in a world that I have no wish to leave.
I wish to show others my world. I want others to enjoy reading and writing as much I do, and believe in it as I do. I believe fully in my writing, so while others write this essay on a better day with no pain, I write about writing, and hold strong to my beliefs.
So you see, it isn’t major or big, but is my whole self and it’s all I can give you. I hope you try to understand and take this to heart, for it is what I believe, it is my truth.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
You'll Never Get Another Chance
Samantha Becker, Prozdor Grade 10
I believe that every moment we spend being upset is a moment we can never get back.
Upon awaking on my sixteenth birthday my father asked me jokingly if I had any words of wisdom I have gained over the years. I looked him in the eye and said just that.
The time we spend being angry, hurt, in tears, and wishing things were different is time we will never get a second chance at. This is not to say that I myself am never sad, or shed a tear, but more that I have come to understand that there is no reason to ruin a whole day over something small and that a day is better spent with friend laughing after heartbreak, embarrassment, or a bad day than at home alone, miserable.
I will never have back the hours I have spent crying over stupid men or the days I wasted being sour to everyone simply because I got in a fight with my parents over a silly chore request. I regret those days, and so have realized that it will always be better to wipe my eyes or un-furrow my brow, and smile, wave at someone or laugh. Everything looks a little bit better if one tries not to be upset, and you will get much more out of a day.
I believe that we should all remember that even when we are sad or angry or hurt, we cannot let these feelings ruin everything. We must not take it out on those around us, and we cannot change most of the situations so take the time we are given and enjoy it. Do not waste your life being upset, dragging out the times when you are upset, or looking for things to be upset about. Find the good. Smile. I believe that one should live every day not as though it were your last, but as if you will never get another chance at it.
Because you won’t.
This I believe.
I believe that every moment we spend being upset is a moment we can never get back.
Upon awaking on my sixteenth birthday my father asked me jokingly if I had any words of wisdom I have gained over the years. I looked him in the eye and said just that.
The time we spend being angry, hurt, in tears, and wishing things were different is time we will never get a second chance at. This is not to say that I myself am never sad, or shed a tear, but more that I have come to understand that there is no reason to ruin a whole day over something small and that a day is better spent with friend laughing after heartbreak, embarrassment, or a bad day than at home alone, miserable.
I will never have back the hours I have spent crying over stupid men or the days I wasted being sour to everyone simply because I got in a fight with my parents over a silly chore request. I regret those days, and so have realized that it will always be better to wipe my eyes or un-furrow my brow, and smile, wave at someone or laugh. Everything looks a little bit better if one tries not to be upset, and you will get much more out of a day.
I believe that we should all remember that even when we are sad or angry or hurt, we cannot let these feelings ruin everything. We must not take it out on those around us, and we cannot change most of the situations so take the time we are given and enjoy it. Do not waste your life being upset, dragging out the times when you are upset, or looking for things to be upset about. Find the good. Smile. I believe that one should live every day not as though it were your last, but as if you will never get another chance at it.
Because you won’t.
This I believe.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Modernity
Shir Levkowitz, Prozdor Grade 11
Modernity in the West represents the greatest success of civilization through the recognition of individual rights and liberties. For millennia, humanity knew only tribal laws or societal pressures that came between a man and himself. The Enlightenment brought about a new view that respected each human being as an individual, not a slave to any group. These revolutionary ideas have lead to a flourishing society built on freedom and respect. The United States truly demonstrates the strength of this view —through its recognition of the individual, it has grown into a prosperous society. But today, various political and social movements seek to reverse the advances of the recent centuries, undermining Western beliefs either through active attacks or through indifference. I strongly believe that the West must stand up and defend these values if it seeks to survive and avoid collapse into savagery.
The philosophy of the Enlightenment began as something rather revolutionary, so that it became a dominant movement. However, as with any political and social trend, new reactionary groups have grown from within the Enlightenment, and they would destroy the great advances it has put forth. In its purest form, Enlightenment thought glorified the individual as its supreme entity, casting aside oppressive and authoritarian beliefs. Thus, modern Western thought is strongly based on tolerance and acceptance of others, but as individuals and for their own merits.
In spite of this, the once-rational valuation of tolerance has grown out of proportion, forming a bloated and oppressive threat to our society. It has become a default that we respect all cultures as our equals, or even as our moral superiors. No longer can one respect a human being’s right to an opinion while disagreeing with his belief. No longer can one defend an individual’s right to speak and criticize the views he upholds for that very reason. No, today’s cult of acceptance and tolerance has reached the point that we are forced to lay aside our values and worship oppressive and immoral societies in the name of diversity. And if Westerners do not defend their values, soon, they will discover the rights and freedoms they now hold dear to be a mere memory of the past.
Today, America finds itself threatened on many fronts. Europe is, by many counts, already lost, with the ever-swelling Muslim population pushing it closer and closer to the day when it is ruled by sharia. The democratic state of Israel is singled out for criticism while the oppressive regimes around it are ignored or praised for their "cultures." All those who believe in the individual rights to life, liberty, and property have reason for concern.
In 1863, the United States found itself in a similar difficulty, tried by civil war and threatened with destruction. The West’s position today is, arguably, more dangerous because its enemies fight it with ideas, not guns. Let us take to heart then, a great man’s call when he said, "It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us … that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from this earth."
Modernity in the West represents the greatest success of civilization through the recognition of individual rights and liberties. For millennia, humanity knew only tribal laws or societal pressures that came between a man and himself. The Enlightenment brought about a new view that respected each human being as an individual, not a slave to any group. These revolutionary ideas have lead to a flourishing society built on freedom and respect. The United States truly demonstrates the strength of this view —through its recognition of the individual, it has grown into a prosperous society. But today, various political and social movements seek to reverse the advances of the recent centuries, undermining Western beliefs either through active attacks or through indifference. I strongly believe that the West must stand up and defend these values if it seeks to survive and avoid collapse into savagery.
The philosophy of the Enlightenment began as something rather revolutionary, so that it became a dominant movement. However, as with any political and social trend, new reactionary groups have grown from within the Enlightenment, and they would destroy the great advances it has put forth. In its purest form, Enlightenment thought glorified the individual as its supreme entity, casting aside oppressive and authoritarian beliefs. Thus, modern Western thought is strongly based on tolerance and acceptance of others, but as individuals and for their own merits.
In spite of this, the once-rational valuation of tolerance has grown out of proportion, forming a bloated and oppressive threat to our society. It has become a default that we respect all cultures as our equals, or even as our moral superiors. No longer can one respect a human being’s right to an opinion while disagreeing with his belief. No longer can one defend an individual’s right to speak and criticize the views he upholds for that very reason. No, today’s cult of acceptance and tolerance has reached the point that we are forced to lay aside our values and worship oppressive and immoral societies in the name of diversity. And if Westerners do not defend their values, soon, they will discover the rights and freedoms they now hold dear to be a mere memory of the past.
Today, America finds itself threatened on many fronts. Europe is, by many counts, already lost, with the ever-swelling Muslim population pushing it closer and closer to the day when it is ruled by sharia. The democratic state of Israel is singled out for criticism while the oppressive regimes around it are ignored or praised for their "cultures." All those who believe in the individual rights to life, liberty, and property have reason for concern.
In 1863, the United States found itself in a similar difficulty, tried by civil war and threatened with destruction. The West’s position today is, arguably, more dangerous because its enemies fight it with ideas, not guns. Let us take to heart then, a great man’s call when he said, "It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us … that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from this earth."
Thursday, April 12, 2007
I Believe in Luck
Rich Moche, Prozdor Faculty
I believe in luck. My father taught me.
My father was an immigrant - a Jew born in Baghdad, he made his way as a young man through Southeast Asia and arrived in the United States at the age of 28. To survive, he had bought and sold anything and everything along the way. In America he continued the trader's life, selling garments, sewing machines, and then finally precious stones in New York's diamond district. I remember asking my father his profession, in order to complete a college application. It was 1974, and by this time he had been living in the United States for 25 years. "I am a merchant," he said.
The core of my father's world-view was the importance of luck. His years of wandering and struggle had made him wise. His favorite saying, always delivered in the same formulation, was, "Richie, listen to me. Life is more luck than brains." In my adolescent arrogance I heard an old greenhorn delivering another lecture. I presumed that an immigrant speaking with a heavy accent (albeit in his third language) knew less than me. I was too young to appreciate the meaning of his words and the importance of luck.
I believed that I made my own destiny.
My father's relationship with luck was not simple. He loved to gamble and I know he had many corollaries of his belief about luck. You have to play the cards you've been dealt, you can bluff, you can fold, you can learn from the other players, you can enjoy the camaraderie of the game and not care so much about a few dollars won or lost. He was not a fatalist. He worked hard. And he was a deeply religious man who was not above bribing the dealer by doing great acts of kindness and generosity. But he knew what he was up against.
When did I finally get his message? Maybe before he died, too young, at 73. I was 36 and people within my cohort had just started to die random and premature deaths, bear children with disabilities, or get stupendously rich by chance. As the years pass, I've come to appreciate more fully the importance of luck. Perhaps when you have been lucky (as I feel I have) you need to deny the need for luck. Luck is painful and scary because it is distributed regardless of merit. So you indulge the childish hope that if you close your eyes to misfortune it will not find you. But the suffering around you forces you to confront the brutal truth that bad things do indeed
happen to good people, for no apparent reason. And this has led me to what my father must have been trying to teach me - to have sympathy for the less fortunate and humility in the face of good fortune.
Thanks Dad. Now I get it.
I believe in luck. My father taught me.
My father was an immigrant - a Jew born in Baghdad, he made his way as a young man through Southeast Asia and arrived in the United States at the age of 28. To survive, he had bought and sold anything and everything along the way. In America he continued the trader's life, selling garments, sewing machines, and then finally precious stones in New York's diamond district. I remember asking my father his profession, in order to complete a college application. It was 1974, and by this time he had been living in the United States for 25 years. "I am a merchant," he said.
The core of my father's world-view was the importance of luck. His years of wandering and struggle had made him wise. His favorite saying, always delivered in the same formulation, was, "Richie, listen to me. Life is more luck than brains." In my adolescent arrogance I heard an old greenhorn delivering another lecture. I presumed that an immigrant speaking with a heavy accent (albeit in his third language) knew less than me. I was too young to appreciate the meaning of his words and the importance of luck.
I believed that I made my own destiny.
My father's relationship with luck was not simple. He loved to gamble and I know he had many corollaries of his belief about luck. You have to play the cards you've been dealt, you can bluff, you can fold, you can learn from the other players, you can enjoy the camaraderie of the game and not care so much about a few dollars won or lost. He was not a fatalist. He worked hard. And he was a deeply religious man who was not above bribing the dealer by doing great acts of kindness and generosity. But he knew what he was up against.
When did I finally get his message? Maybe before he died, too young, at 73. I was 36 and people within my cohort had just started to die random and premature deaths, bear children with disabilities, or get stupendously rich by chance. As the years pass, I've come to appreciate more fully the importance of luck. Perhaps when you have been lucky (as I feel I have) you need to deny the need for luck. Luck is painful and scary because it is distributed regardless of merit. So you indulge the childish hope that if you close your eyes to misfortune it will not find you. But the suffering around you forces you to confront the brutal truth that bad things do indeed
happen to good people, for no apparent reason. And this has led me to what my father must have been trying to teach me - to have sympathy for the less fortunate and humility in the face of good fortune.
Thanks Dad. Now I get it.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Believe in Your Convictions
Dana Weinstein, Prozdor Grade 11
Believe 100% in your convictions, even if you contradict yourself every day.
This motto has been an inspiration to me from the time I was little. It has taught me that being wrong is ok, that being adamant about being right when I’m actually wrong is ok, but most importantly, that I should believe wholeheartedly whatever it is that I actually think. For example, since I was ten I’ve always thought that I wanted to be a psychologist, more specifically, a neuro-psychologist. But last week, we started a women’s issues segment in my U.S. History class, and like Dory in Finding Nemo, I had a new mission in life – I am going to be a women’s rights advocate. My friends will eye me strangely, think it’s just a phase, and my parents will probably not be thrilled to hear that I want to major in women’s studies. And they’re likely all right. I’ll probably end up back as a pre-med major or studying psychology when I get to college. But right now, maybe just for this week, I want to be a women’s rights lawyer.
This motto also speaks to my belief that my generation cannot be nicknamed as “X,” “Y,” or “Z,” but as generation blasé. The use of the word “like” or “you know” modifies almost any statement made by a teenage girl or boy in today’s America. It is no longer “cool” to actually believe what you say – it’s no longer acceptable to be passionate about something, no matter how profound or insignificant. Instead, in our cynical and materialistic culture, we must be dispassionate about, disinterested in, everything. In our pursuit of acceptance, we no longer want to offend, and of course, the worst way to offend someone is to disagree with him or her. And of course, disagreeing with someone is the natural outcome of believing wholeheartedly in a conviction someone else opposes.
However, just because one believes something 100% does not mean that they should be locked into that belief for the rest of their life. As the 2004 Presidential campaigns have shown us, an inability to acknowledge and welcome change in other people “elected” an administration that 1) has currently engaged in a war (that costs the American public billions of dollars a day) and 2) refuses to admit any such mistakes about said war. John Kerry did not win the 2004 Presidential elections because he did not respond quickly enough the to “Swift-Boat” attacks on his character. But he also did not win because the Republicans portrayed him as effeminately wishy-washy, not stick-to-your-guns manly like Bush. However, as good as the Republican machine is, it could not have successfully played this tactic had the American public not agreed with it. Americans, at least in 2004, believed that changing your mind was a bad thing, a sign of weakness. Thus, a President who couldn’t even admit that there were no WMDs in Iraq despite the presence of such weapons being the basis for the invasion was championed over a decorated man who actually served in Vietnam and yet later decided that his involvement caused more harm than gain. The elections of 2004 are just one example of the dangers of refusing to accept change. Most senators in Iraq were with the president when he wanted to invade because of the WMDs. Many more might still be with him if he hadn’t refused to acknowledge his mistakes in reconnaissance.
Thus, believing in one’s convictions while also possessing the ability to change them is necessary to allow people grow and develop fully. If we teach our children that their thoughts and ideas are acceptable and laudable, then we will endow our children with the self-esteem to lead contented and successful lives.
Believe 100% in your convictions, even if you contradict yourself every day.
This motto has been an inspiration to me from the time I was little. It has taught me that being wrong is ok, that being adamant about being right when I’m actually wrong is ok, but most importantly, that I should believe wholeheartedly whatever it is that I actually think. For example, since I was ten I’ve always thought that I wanted to be a psychologist, more specifically, a neuro-psychologist. But last week, we started a women’s issues segment in my U.S. History class, and like Dory in Finding Nemo, I had a new mission in life – I am going to be a women’s rights advocate. My friends will eye me strangely, think it’s just a phase, and my parents will probably not be thrilled to hear that I want to major in women’s studies. And they’re likely all right. I’ll probably end up back as a pre-med major or studying psychology when I get to college. But right now, maybe just for this week, I want to be a women’s rights lawyer.
This motto also speaks to my belief that my generation cannot be nicknamed as “X,” “Y,” or “Z,” but as generation blasé. The use of the word “like” or “you know” modifies almost any statement made by a teenage girl or boy in today’s America. It is no longer “cool” to actually believe what you say – it’s no longer acceptable to be passionate about something, no matter how profound or insignificant. Instead, in our cynical and materialistic culture, we must be dispassionate about, disinterested in, everything. In our pursuit of acceptance, we no longer want to offend, and of course, the worst way to offend someone is to disagree with him or her. And of course, disagreeing with someone is the natural outcome of believing wholeheartedly in a conviction someone else opposes.
However, just because one believes something 100% does not mean that they should be locked into that belief for the rest of their life. As the 2004 Presidential campaigns have shown us, an inability to acknowledge and welcome change in other people “elected” an administration that 1) has currently engaged in a war (that costs the American public billions of dollars a day) and 2) refuses to admit any such mistakes about said war. John Kerry did not win the 2004 Presidential elections because he did not respond quickly enough the to “Swift-Boat” attacks on his character. But he also did not win because the Republicans portrayed him as effeminately wishy-washy, not stick-to-your-guns manly like Bush. However, as good as the Republican machine is, it could not have successfully played this tactic had the American public not agreed with it. Americans, at least in 2004, believed that changing your mind was a bad thing, a sign of weakness. Thus, a President who couldn’t even admit that there were no WMDs in Iraq despite the presence of such weapons being the basis for the invasion was championed over a decorated man who actually served in Vietnam and yet later decided that his involvement caused more harm than gain. The elections of 2004 are just one example of the dangers of refusing to accept change. Most senators in Iraq were with the president when he wanted to invade because of the WMDs. Many more might still be with him if he hadn’t refused to acknowledge his mistakes in reconnaissance.
Thus, believing in one’s convictions while also possessing the ability to change them is necessary to allow people grow and develop fully. If we teach our children that their thoughts and ideas are acceptable and laudable, then we will endow our children with the self-esteem to lead contented and successful lives.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Friends: The Reason We Live Contentedly
Hayley Matusow, Prozdor Grade 10
Mencius said it right when he said, “Friendship is one mind in two bodies.” I have made many major decisions and experienced many things in my life. Without my friends, I would have never been able to get through the tough times. Friends can, not only be another person in your class or your camp friends. A friend can be a parent or a sibling. I believe a friend is someone you can talk with when you are either upset or happy, and you feel comfortable with. A friend is someone who respects you as you should respect them as well.
Going to camp for the first year at age 10, I knew all but two older girls. The first night I will admit, I was homesick and lonely. By the end of the week, the seven other girls in cabin were my new seven best friends. At the end of the week, we had all experienced song and cheer together and we were all living and breathing each other’s stupid comments. I never truly understood the reason for my parents sending me to camp until the end of my last summer. It was then that I realized that camp was an opportunity to make friends who you cherish and get through obstacles with. With no parents, my friends were the next best things in my camp life. After leaving my camp, I learned to treasure my friends at home as well.
When my grandmother died last year, I went through a period of shock. I did not really know how react in certain situations. When I came home from her funeral, all of my friends came over to talk to me and tell me how sorry they were. They each brought me my homework from school and I knew they cared. In hard times, you can tell how much your friends care about you and you should cherish anytime you get to share with them because you never know when something may happen and you will have to part.
I talk to my friends everyday. In many ways they know more about my life than I do and I am thankful that they care. I respect my friends and I believe they respect me as much or even more. I believe that friends are the main reason people are able to get through obstacles. I believe that friends are people you are able to open up to, and I know if I did not have caring friends, I would not be able to live because I would have to keep all my thoughts bottled up inside me. I believe along with my parents, my friends are the reason I act how I act and appreciate as much as I do. I love my friends.
Mencius said it right when he said, “Friendship is one mind in two bodies.” I have made many major decisions and experienced many things in my life. Without my friends, I would have never been able to get through the tough times. Friends can, not only be another person in your class or your camp friends. A friend can be a parent or a sibling. I believe a friend is someone you can talk with when you are either upset or happy, and you feel comfortable with. A friend is someone who respects you as you should respect them as well.
Going to camp for the first year at age 10, I knew all but two older girls. The first night I will admit, I was homesick and lonely. By the end of the week, the seven other girls in cabin were my new seven best friends. At the end of the week, we had all experienced song and cheer together and we were all living and breathing each other’s stupid comments. I never truly understood the reason for my parents sending me to camp until the end of my last summer. It was then that I realized that camp was an opportunity to make friends who you cherish and get through obstacles with. With no parents, my friends were the next best things in my camp life. After leaving my camp, I learned to treasure my friends at home as well.
When my grandmother died last year, I went through a period of shock. I did not really know how react in certain situations. When I came home from her funeral, all of my friends came over to talk to me and tell me how sorry they were. They each brought me my homework from school and I knew they cared. In hard times, you can tell how much your friends care about you and you should cherish anytime you get to share with them because you never know when something may happen and you will have to part.
I talk to my friends everyday. In many ways they know more about my life than I do and I am thankful that they care. I respect my friends and I believe they respect me as much or even more. I believe that friends are the main reason people are able to get through obstacles. I believe that friends are people you are able to open up to, and I know if I did not have caring friends, I would not be able to live because I would have to keep all my thoughts bottled up inside me. I believe along with my parents, my friends are the reason I act how I act and appreciate as much as I do. I love my friends.
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