Responding to a piece of literary journalism- Can German Atonement Teach America to Finally Face Slavery? by Jane Yager

Can German Atonement Teach America to Finally Face Slavery? by Jane Yager

          The article caught my eye because I lived in Germany for a while. After reading it I understand where she was coming from. When stayed in Germany they do not really openly talk about what happened in World War II, but when it is out in the open they openly admit to dropping the ball on that one.

          Jane is surprised to learn of her own historical family horror and understandable so. I would be appalled if I knew that my ancestors actually owned slaves. She is also how everyone in her family acts about it. Some family members want to sweep it under the carpet; sort of speak, other deny it, and while her grandfather acted like there was nothing wrong with it.

          Understanding environmental conditioning plays a key role to how her family dealt with their soiled ancestry history. Whether denying it, accepting it, atoning for it, or just taking it stride. Everyone has their own level of guilt and their own level of acceptance to the guilt.

Blog #5 Whom do I interview?

          I had planned to interview Prof. Pizziola. She is an art teacher at LaGuardia Comminuty College. I like her she is balls-y. She was clear and consis and I respect her. She took into consideration that I had not been in school in a long time and I was not an artist.
   
          My mother was an artist. She has a painting of vase with flowers inspired by Picasso and my daughters Sierra and Josphine are the artist in the family both of them have already been featured in a museum in New York City. Sierra in MOMA and Josephine was featured at the Gugganheim the youth devision. I was so proud of them. I just they would continue.  So that is who I wanted to interview.

          Then I actually got in contact with Vin Diesel or better yet Mark Vincent. Unfortunatly, he was busy filming and was not in New York. So there went that idea. So I interviewed a fellow LaGuardia Community College alumni, who is a poet and had been published a few times over. He was coming to my radio show that I have on Wensedays so I figured I would kill two birds with one stone. I usually have standard questions that I sometimes divert from it. I hate when that happens and sometimes; depending on the answer from my guest; leads me to another question that I would not normally as everyone. It was interesting. I usually do live interview on the air and on youtube.

          Overall it was interesting, I had to be concience of what I was going to ask my guest because of this class. Definately a useful tool in story telling and creative writing.  

Where did I go?

          It is odd to think that I spent many years denying myself so much. Especially the opportunity to grow and allow myself to be happy. I am thrilled to feel able to do what I thought was a hobby; to something that can help me, not only make a difference, but to help people become aware, to awaken a thought, to shack out an emotion, to ascend ones soul to the clouds of enlighten knowledge. To smack some fear and anxiety into someone that it makes them want to do something about what is bothering them and what makes someone cry.
          I believe Alexander Hamilton said it best when he said "Those who stand for nothing fall for anything" And it's true with some many things in life. At the same time, if you are not taught to stand up for anything including yourself from anyone... Who do you blame? Society? Your family? The school? Yourself??? Shall we thank the people that created a the fire in your belly? Or the people that snuffed it out to begin with??? Thank the people that helped you heal. Whom were really REALLY there for you.

Reading response Assignment #4 Frank McCourt, "Angela's Ashes"

     I like the writing style of Frank McCourt's book Angela's Ashes. It has a certain flow to it. He moves from one subject to the other with a graceful flow. His style of writing is also easy. He is writing of when he was young and only understood the limited knowledge to him at that age; even thou when he wrote his memoirs he understood better, but chose to write in this form, which works well.
 
 "He takes us to see the Baby Jesus in the crib. He's a big fat baby with fair curls like Malachy. Dad tells us that's Jesus' mother there, Mary, in the blue dress...I ask why the baby Jesus has to die and Dad says you can't ask questions like that. Malachy says, Why? and Dad tells him to be quiet."

This conversation is typical between parent and child and Mr. McCourt plays with his writing that we get engaged in to the story because we are reading it from a child's point of view which can always be interesting to an adult reader.
     I like that he doesn't necessarily have quotation when someone is speaking and it is still clear who is talking and who they are talking to. The dialog between characters in the book bounce back and forth with an even flow. I can almost imagine when McCourt as a child turning his head left and right left and right like a tennis match but between his mother and the butcher as they talk about making a purchase.
 
 "Mam says the pig's head isn't right fr Christmas and he says 'ti more than the Holy Family had in that cold stable in Bethlehem long ago...
       No, they wouldn't complain, says Mam, but they'd never eat the pig's head. They were Jewish.
       And what does that had to do with it? A pig's head is a pig's head.
       And a Jew is a Jew ad 'tis against their religion and I don't blame them.
       The Butcher says, Are you a bit of an expert, missus, on the Jews and the pig...."
McCourt uses capital letters and indents when someone is speaking and it flows very nicely it is as if Frank McCourt was right there letting you his story himself.

Blog Assignment #3: Writing on a Historical Photograph

There she sat busy as a bee. She works hard and is grateful to have employment in the 1950's. She lined up the hammers for the piano, as files down any irregularity. She was tall for a girl, so she wore flats. They were comfortable and practical. She was grateful for that. Her floral patterned smock, a gift from her mother, covered her normal clothing so she wouldn't ruin them at work. She kept her black hair in place with a matching ribbon in her hair. The glasses she wore were necessary to see little imperfections and make corrections to the hammers. She looks content to be doing the job that she has. If I were her I would be thinking on how I can get a promotion.

“Blog Assignment #2–Truman Capote, In Cold Blood

          Truman Capote's, In Cold Blood as I was reading and Capote is describing Mr. Herb Clutter. Capote writes about how he graduated from Kansas State University "where he had majored in Agriculture"(page 18). Considering that it is Kansas "farm country" it's ideal. Capote continues by adding that he married his college sweetheart, had "a trio of girls and a son" (18). Capote is painting a picture of a really good man without vices. A handsome, well-built, educated, married, God fearing man who was also a good provider. Herb Clutter seems to be a unbelievably good man, but Capote finally shows us that he does have a fault. That Mr. Clutter was human after all. Herb Clutter has no tolerance for people who drink alcohol. It is the only negative the townsfolk can actually say.
Capote's writes in detailed even before you get to Herb Clutter. Describing the town of Holcomb, the buildings that you can see from afar. He compares the almost deserted town to ancient Greece. "A white cluster of grain elevators rising gracefully as Greek temples are visible long before a traveler reaches them."(15). I like Capote's writing style, he easily helps you see everything that he is writing about. Helping the reader visualize this little sleepy town.

OMG What does life want from me???

          Sometimes, I don't know where to start... Other times, I am not sure where I'm going. People who know ask me, "How do you do it? How do you cope?" I really don't know. I pray. I cry. I pull my hair out... What good would that do? Nothing. So, I cling to the last bit of hope that I have. The little gleam. It is like search for the silver lining in a destructive hurricane that tears down a town. I sit in silence for hours. You can almost hear the wheels turning in my head and smell the smoke from the gears working overtime. I really don't know what to do. No one showed me. No one taught me. They did not tell me what I would need to do? No one wanted to show me how to go about it. THEY didn't care and they still don't. The people I was suppose to depend on have quickly turned their backs on me. If you can not rely on these people for help, who can you rely on? Apparently not MY PARENTS!

          After years of trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I talk to a therapist. It took a year for all parties in these sessions to realize that I grew up without a "support system". Digging into my brain; I came to see that it was true, but she was sugar coating it. She was trying to be nice. I assumed it was for my emotional benefit. I remember the first few sessions. I walked in there thinking: I am the issue. I am not right. I was my own problem. Why couldn't I be happy with a lowly job? Why couldn't I be happy with a simple desk job? Why did I have such high standards when it comes to dating men? Let us be honest here. Why wasn't I satisfied with having a low-income, no advancement bullshit job? Why can't I just keep my mouth shut when someone belittles me? Was it really me???

11/1/15

     I hate that I have to be fake with my mother. I mean, I care about her. I do not want anything to happen to her. If she died I would cry. But as if I don't have enough to deal with she is a see-saw Bipolar baby. She acts like a snotty little needy child that I have to constantly reassure that everyone in the world is crazy and not her, otherwise I become the fucking bitch sabotaging her life. The minute I need her parental advice or wisdom. She turns around and starts accusing my children of lying to me and I am being taken for a sucker by them. Antagonizing the calm in the air because as they say "she can not leave well enough alone." I do not know how she doesn't live in California.