The Monster

Strong men love what they can call their own. They take pride in claiming,"This is my land. We were born on it and we have died on it" (33). In Grapes of Wrath, men hold strong to their land even if it means that their houses get driven to the ground around them. The dust never lifted. The dust was always there. If they could of just planted and reaped the benefits, they could have made it. But it wasn't the dust's fault, it was The monster's fault. The monster, the bank, that ate up all the money and consumed healthy lives. Because of the monster the men don't have a choice, their children must starve, their wives must die, and they must stand by and allow it to happen. But the other men, the weak men, the monster's slaves, don't take pride in what they own. They destroy and taunt. Why? "For three dollars" (37). These men will ravish their neighbor and leave them in the mud. They will take orders from a monster that kills, that hates, that neglects. In fact, they can't be men at all because strong men love, they take compassion, they are willing "to kill the ones that are doing the starving" (38). Weak men are "goggled" (35). Weak men admire The monster that desolates the land. Because if the weak man can't be like the strong man, and love something enough to starve and die for it, then the weak man must become an expert at destroying the strong man. Weak men must be good at something.

Chapter 5, of The Grapes of Wrath, is used to distinguish good and evil. The good is the strong man. The evil is the weak man. Even though the weak man is a human, he is more of a machine, more of a tool in The monster's great scheme. The man with the house, "that he built with his own hands" (38) is in awe that a fellow neighbor could do such a mindless thing. The machine man is "putting people into the street" (36). The strong man knows right. The monster is controlling the mechanical, weak man. He knows that in the end, The ravaging monster will toss the weak man out into the dirt just like the mechanical man is tossing the strong man out of his home. So the strong man will hope and he will leave his land because he is wise and understands that he has a family that will die if they stay. The farmer is furious but he will become calm for the sake of his loved ones. Be a strong man! He might not have a house, but he is always deeply rooted.

Take the Time

It takes 20 minutes to feel full after a meal. My mom is always telling me this even now as a teenager. But she always seems to be right because I'm never hungry after those 20 mins. I'm grateful for time. Time makes the days go by. Time makes relationships better. Time means a tastier meal. Everyone rushes through their days as if it's the last day they will be living but we all need to remember to be grateful for time because when we take more time, we become more grateful. The little things suddenly have more meaning. I am wonderfully grateful for a night around the table with my family instead of cramming all my homework in. I love sugar cookies because I know my siblings took the time to craft them into something beautiful. I am grateful for the time in the mountains during Thanksgiving because it gives me an opportunity to force my self to be grateful for everything in my life. Time is the best thing in the world! 

We all need to be grateful for time. The time our parents pour into listening to us talk every day, the time it takes to brush our teeth and prevent cavities, the time Jesus spent on the cross for our sins. Remember that time is the only way we grow. So be grateful for every second because no one ever knows when their time will run out.

Be Kind.

Our world would be a different place if everyone "[chose] everyday to offer, thank, encourage, inspire, and let others know you notice and believe in them.” (Anglea Maiers) But how do people accomplish doing each of these things everyday? It's simple, we need to be KIND.

K is for KNOWLEDGE. Everyday students walk down the hall in a high school and smile at their fellow students but how many of them really KNOW their peers? To truly be kind to someone, they need to be listened to and known. They need to be recognized for their gifts. Showing ultimate kindness requires someone to let go of how they feel or what they want to talk about and instead listening and learning from the person sitting in front of them. If no one KNOWS the person sitting next to them they haven't really been kind at all. Kindness isn't just a slight smile.

I stands for INVITATION. Being kind requires more than saying "hello" to someone in the hall. When my family and I started attending our church we felt hospitality and kindness coming from all. Not because they greeted us at the door, but because they INVITED us into their homes to share a home cooked meal. They took time to know us and prepare their home for us. Today, students might not be inviting people over for dinner, but an INVITATION to see a movie or an offer to buy someone's lunch can go a very long way. We need to remember as a society that people judge on other's actions and what better action than taking time to devote attention to a single person through an invitation.

N is for NEEDS. One truly feels cared about when someone acknowledges their needs and provides for them. It could be a much needed compliment or so much as a winter coat. More people need to show kindness in ways of giving and attending to peoples NEEDS. How often do people look around and ask what do other people need? Not often. We are a self consumed nation and that pours over into every aspect of our life. Kindness is difficult. It requires giving up what is wanted and loving someone simply because it is the right thing to do. We need to care for other's NEEDS because we need them to care for our needs as well.

D stands for DARING. How many times are the odd kids made fun of? How often do the kids that don't quite fit in sit at a table all alone in the lunch room? DARE to be that one person who is kind! In the end, it wont matter to anyone if you were friends with the normal kids, the ones who played sports well, the ones who had the most expensive clothes, the only people who will be acknowledged for their kindness will be the people who DARED to be kind to the different. Kindness inspires people. Kindness gives hope. Kindness requires DARING. Don't take the easy way out. Reach out with kindness to those who need it most.

In the hustle of life and school, we forget one of the most important things. KINDNESS. Once that quality is accomplished, offering, thankfulness, encouragement, and inspiration will all follow. Instead of saying we will change our world by being different, lets define difference as an act. That act is kindness.

BOO!

I remember the dark night, the leaves rustling, the screams and all the scary music coming form the neighbor's garages. I remember the massive amounts of people. The kids running up and down the streets seeing who could fill their bag the fastest with candy. It was a time when staying out till midnight in the dark ringing on stranger's doorbells was okay. It was the holiday to look forward to. Costumes and Snickers, what's not to love? But it seems it's all changed. This year, no one was out trick-or-treating. The streets were quiet and dead and the few kids that we came across seemed to be feeling the same way we were, like Halloween just wasn't what it used to be. The tradition is dying. Years earlier, kids would rush to doors. It didn't matter if we didn't know each other, we were all in it together for the prize. The best candy! This year as we hustled to each door, two kids behind us in Toy Story costumes were told to "wait for the kids in front of them to get the candy." No!!!! That's not how it's supposed to be. Every kid is supposed to be shoving eachother out of the way to get the the single Midnight Milkyway in the bottom of the bucket. They should all be screaming in unison, "Trick-or-Treat!" Halloween seems to have been changed into a civilized evening of gift giving instead of the chaotic free for all meant for kids to just be kids. But why has Halloween changed over the years?

Parents are just plain scared. The kids I babysit for down the street told me they were frightened to go trick-or-treating because their PARENTS had told them that people poison the candy they hand out to children. It all seems so strange to me. When I went trick or treating with my 11 year old friends "back in the day", there was a house with a sweet, old lady that we trucked up 5 streets just to go to her door. Every year she welcomed us inside and offered us a choice of hot apple cider or hot cocoa. Sometimes if we were lucky, we got dinner. Parents today, would be appalled by the thought of letting their own children walk into the home of a stranger. But what happened to old fashioned trust? Not every one is out to kill a child or kidnap someone. There are actually people who just like being hospitable to kids who come to their doorstep wrapped in winter coats and holding a plastic pumpkin. Sure, Halloween can be viewed as a dangerous holiday. A bunch of kids walking around in the dead of night talking to people they don't know, but thats the beauty of it. Halloween is a time when everyone should be reminded of the good in people and love the dedication of the old man down the street who hands out candy EVERY SINGLE year even though he can barely walk to the door.

I encourage everyone to relive the wonderful days when kids counted down the seconds till Halloween. When skipping down the street in an R2-D2 costume was totally awesome! When strangers were the best things in the world. When Snickers weren't poisoned but filled with creamy caramel. Let's remember that people value tradition and if the stranger on the next block didn't kidnap your kid last year he probably won't this year. Halloween is a night of laughs and screaming, candy and popcorn. A night when parents trust that their children are somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere getting candy. Its an evening of freaking amazingness! Don't ruin that. Embrace it.

Black and White

Black is a rich, deep color. It is the color of faithfulness. Priests wear black robes to indicate their complete faithfulness to God. Black is the color of loyalty and justness. Being the color of sophistication, many men and women will wear it for funerals or simply a fancy evening on the town. 

White is a light, flowy color. It is the color of purity. Brides wear white to show their husbands that they have been faithful. White is the color of health and youth. Being the color of new beginnings, many people paint walls or furniture white for a new start. 

Throughout the times of segregation so much emphasis was placed on the color of one's skin. Black people were forbidden to drink from the same water fountain as the white people.  If you take a look around the best things are black AND white. There would be no night if black wasn't existent and no one would have fun in the sun with out the white light of day. Each color makes a perfect day and keeps the world spinning. A black and white dress gives just the right amount of innocence along with a sophisticated air. So, if our world wasn't full of black and white we would be missing either purity or faithfulness. It applies to people too! Every person makes up the life we all live.  Each one is unique. It doesn't really matter what anyone one looks like on the outside. After all, they are just colors. 

GRAMPY

I can remember so clearly my first ride on a tractor. It was in the middle of summer in Pennsylvania behind my grandparent's house. My grandfather sat me up on that yellow seat and told me to hold on. He climbed up behind me and we were off. We were traveling at the speed of a turtle, yet it felt like the speed of light to me. Riding on that tractor has become a tradition. This summer I drove the tractor, and you know what? I still got the same thrill I had the first time. Some things never change. Some things never loose their charm. Some things just make you smile simply because it is a memory.


If anyone asks me what some of my favorite recollections are, most of them will include my grandfather.  We have always called him Grampy.  Much to his dislike, sometimes Gramps. He seems the type that sits at home and does what older people do: read, sleep, sleep some more. And don't get me wrong, he sure does all those things, but he also owns a motorcycle, convertible, and speed boat. For a 68 year old man, I'd say that's pretty awesome. When my family goes out to visit my grandparents during the summer, Grampy always gets me up early to take a cruise on the bike. He makes it very clear to me that it is not just called a motorcycle, it's THE " blue Harley".  I am forced to wear jeans to be safe because the hot pipes might scald my skin. He wears shorts. We ride for hours through cornfields and on dirt paths. We pass the little creek where I used to tube down when I was younger. We rumble by the old, red school house that has been standing for as long as he's lived. As we pass certain landmarks of the past that we have shared, he tries yelling something to me. I laugh back even though I have no idea what he just said. If you ask me what it is that I look forward to each and every year, it won't be Christmas and it won't be summer. It will be the one Saturday that I slip on my old jeans and go for a ride with my Grampy on the Blue Harley.

Now, Grampy is certainly not the easiest human to get along with and he probably seems a little odd when he limps up the stairs, but he is one of those books that you just can't read by its cover.  That limp he has came from a plane crash he and my mom were in when she was 8. He might be hard and overbearing, but he had a younger brother run over by a car when he was only 17. Grampy has had plenty of heartache that has made me respect him. I just hope one day that I  can truly tell him how much I care for him. But until that day comes, I'm going to keep looking for memories in everything we do together and who knows, maybe I will even find  one that is more thrilling than that first tractor ride.

Summer Suppertime

The smell of sweet grass, the creak of the swingset, the drops of water on the deck, the open screen door, it's all part of a night in summer at the VanDeWalker dinner table. For as long as I can remember, Saturdays, under the warm sun, have been reserved for the family. All of us kids can argue all we want, but when it comes to fish on the grill, we are sitting at that table every Saturday night. It's a ritual. Even though it all seems set in time, when we eat, where we eat, what we eat, we are hardly ever doing the same thing twice. Some nights my little brothers are creating a flood with all the water they have splashed out of the pool, but other nights, they are the ones setting the table. Either my mom is sprinting to get the marinade for the fish, or she is retuning home from sports practice. The rushing and headaches don't subside until we are all sitting in our places at the stone table on the terraced patio. And even then, summer suppertime isn't about controlling the chaos; it's a time when our parents make sure we don't harm ourselves with laughter.

While most families' suppers are a quiet event with talk about the day, we hardly ever go a meal with out someone being thrown in the pool. My parents make sure we never eat what is normal. Hotdogs and hamburgers are known as the perfect Saturday cook out meal, but our feasts consist of oysters and horseradish, halibut or clams, beets and goat cheese, and scallops. Family gathering time gives a way for all of us to keep up in each other's lives and share the stories of the day. Even though we all seem quite out of control at times, we know when to settle down. We know when it's time to be reverent for the prayer; we know when it's time to listen; and we know very well when it is time to howl with laughter. Whether it's mustard on someone's nose or the grill catching on fire, a giggle will always be present. After everyone has eaten their fill of the sea, we all work like a well-oiled machine to tidy up before the "midnight water polo game". Everyone takes in their own plate, someone scrubs the table, and even though we all like to think everyone is helping, we all know Max, the youngest, is floating in the pool.

For the VanDeWalker family in the summer, suppertime is about as crazy as it can get; however, it's also the most sane time of our day. Without the Saturday meal, we wouldn't be apart of each other's lives. Our family uses this time to partake in the life of the person next to them, if only for a few, short seconds. We try to be mature and sophisticated at dinner, but it never works because one thing is for certain, we wouldn't be the Van De Walkers if we didn't throw formality to the wind and just enjoy our chaotic and laughable summer suppers.

Freedom's Fight

“…freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.”


Martin Luther King Jr. uttered these words in his letter directed to white clergy men who had accused him of being too aggressive and impatient in his fight for black freedom. However, are the oppressed ever too aggressive? The black people of America were trampled upon. They were ripped from their homes and thrown into a life of hatred and heartache. Even after they were "legally freed", none of them had any freedom at all. The oppressed black people were constantly hindered by day to day things, a drinking fountain that only "whites" could drink out of, a store that sold necessary items but where only "whites" could shop. The rich, white people of the south never felt the sting of segregation like the black people did. They never experienced the lash of the whip or the vile words. That's why history never sees the privileged standing up for the depraved. Mr. King impressed upon his audience that freedom never comes without a fight and that fight is never truly won until the oppressed are no longer degraded.


Instead of saying, in his letter, the black people should stand up to the white, Mr. King kept his statement very broad. By using this tactic Mr. King compelled his audience to apply this to their own lives. When the reader reflects on what Martin King said, he finds it to be true. No matter if it is a sister tormenting her little brother or terrorists attacking the United States, oppression won't stop until someone who understands the pain of being the weaker victim, proclaims freedom. Throughout history there have been wars fought for freedom, some violent and some not. The Jews taken into slavery by the Egyptians during the B.C. era were never going to break free of the despair inflicted upon them. The Egyptians were not going to have a revelation one day and free every slave they owned allowing them to wonder off into the desert. Moses was the voice of the oppressed. He fought the war of freedom. He erected himself as a beacon of hope for the Jews that had no will to live. Was he an Egyptian? No, he was a Jew. He was a man that saw evil and was brave enough to bring about change. Brave enough to lead his people across a parted sea. If there had been no one willing to stand up to the oppressive Egyptians, the Jews would have lived a lifetime of woe. As humans, we are able to apply Mr. King's words to all of history, making it more concrete and compelling to every audience.


Martin Luther King Jr. was the voice of the oppressed. He encouraged everyone to fight for what was right because he knew best of all that nothing worth fighting for would ever be handed to him freely. Even though the black people encountered much harsher conditions of sorrow and wretchedness, these few words that Mr. King thrust upon the white people of America, gives hope to all who do not have a voice. He compels people to be brave and hopeful, to be strong and direct, to be wise but demanding. He encourages everyone to fight freedom's fight because after it is won, freedom's fight becomes freedom's conquer.

Let's Ban the Ban

Why were books written? Why? To teach lessons, of course. It doesn't matter if it's the children's book, Ferdinand, or one of Jane Austen's classics. Ferdinand educates on the importance of being one's self. Pride and Prejudice, one of Austen's masterpieces, instructs on the challenges of love. However, there are books in the modern society that are being locked away, that are not being permitted to teach their lessons. No book should ever be banned! The character's actions, or the ending, or the diction, might not be to the liking of all, but is that a justified reason to silence a teacher forever?

It is obvious to see why many books would be banned from schools in this day and age. To Kill A Mockingbird, The Color Purple, Huckleberry Finn - all of these classics have absolutely one thing in common, the mistreatment of black people. Within the pages of each one of these books lies horrific accusations against the colored characters and taunting names that should never be mentioned. The reader sits in disgust as a white man shoots a black man for simply being black (To Kill A Mockingbird). Schools today, ban books that have a dour theme, books that make one's skin crawl and feel ashamed of the things America did to the people of Africa. Isn't that a good thing? Students need to be reading about the terrifying things of the past. They need to be understanding of the mistakes made by their ancestors. To Kill A Mockingbird is not a book that should be read to demonstrate the power of the word nigger. No, it is book that should be cherished because a man of unfathomable courage stands up for a weaker victim simply because it is the right thing to do. That is what the students will remember! They will remember that Atticus Finch defended Tom Robinson.

Young people need an example to follow. While many think an influential example is a good person doing good things at a good time, teenagers, who think they are all wise and powerful, sometimes need to observe what the bad does to someone who partakes in it constantly. The Great Gatsby, a book of partying and chaos, may be conceived as a book promoting a life of low morals. Jay Gatsby falls in love with a married woman. Daisy Buchanan's husband is having an affair on the weekends. For these reasons the book is controversial. No teacher wants students reading about such poor desicions made by characters of little or no decency. However, the finale of this book justifies everything that was written within the beginning pages. What happens to Jay Gatsby, the man who seduced a married woman? He dies. How does Daisy find peace in the end of the book? She doesn't. She remains lost and hopeless forever. By reading this book, students are preached to about consequences and heartache. Just because the characters of the 1920s novel drink a little too much and party a little too hard does not mean it is detrimental to a student's education. It instructs them and provokes thought on the hazards of an irresponsible lifestyle.

Watering down the past happens so easily. Teachers talk about black and white segregation and the holocaust in classrooms day by day. Students find it easy to just zone out because they have heard the same story over and over. Reading a book that is harsh and direct and true is the one thing that speaks to the soul. Stereotypes are shattered when one reads an autobiography of a black person. The colored people of the south don't appear as mistreated anymore. No, it is much worse! They are abused, tortured, and ripped from their family. If books are going to be utilised to their fullest potential they need to be read, understood, and applied. To learn the lessons of the past, a book that hurts the heart might have to be read. So let's stop banning books and let them do what they are supposed to do. Teach.

Me, Myself, and I

No, I'm not a millionaire and no, I'm not dripping with money but I am surrounded by the most beautiful jewels of them all, my family.

My mom and dad began their family with me in Charlotte, North Carolina. That's right, I'm the oldest. And I'm not just an ordinary big sister, I'm a big sister to 4 brothers and 1 sister. Addison is 2 years younger than me. Being my other half, he knows everything about me and then some. Then there is Livi, Nik, who was adopted from Russia, and Jack, and then Max. We are all one big happy but imperfect family. I love them, a lot!  

There are a couple things that are really important that you know about me. I LOVE LIFE! Every second, every day, it's all a memory. I would pick up my bags and go to any place in the world if someone gave me a ticket. Traveling is my passion. Learning new cultures, and experiencing the food, and living the life of a foreigner fascinates me. 

 The Philadelphia Phillies are THE team and they will be for my whole life.

I believe in waiting. Waiting for the chance to speak up, waiting for the perfect pitch, waiting for the man of your dreams. If no one waits for anything, then nothing will be craved. 

Music relieves the soul and art has undoubted beauty. Being a cellist, pianist, and lover of theatre, art and music make my life a song.

I'm 17 and even though I don't know much about life, I know what life feels like. My existence is a place of joy where everyone comes together and laughs. Not all the days are great but they are all worth living.  It's not a millionaire's life, but it sure is better.