I Am Thankful For....MONICA!!

     Monica. What a beautiful name. What a beautiful person. The name Monica comes from a Greek word (how fitting, seeing as I am Greek) meaning solitary. That is so beautiful. Solitary, single, independent. Not that she's single, really (RYAN), but she's her own independent person. She is smart and strong and vivacious, and she manages to wear a stunning smile every single day.
     I am so grateful for that smile. I know I can always count on Monica, no matter what, to make me feel better. Every single day. American Lit being the first class - which is always a bummer, since everyone's feeling like, "Aww man, the last thing I wanna do right now is leave my warm, comfortable bed and go sit in some class reading some boring book about a house *AHEM*" (just kidding Mr. M) - it's sometimes hard to be cheerful and concentrated. Monica always lifts me up. When I see her face I cannot help but smile. She puts me in a better mood just by being there.
     And did I mention she's brilliant? If I don't understand something, or I need help answering a difficult question, she is always more than generous. She always has a great idea in that beautiful head of hers. She sees things in a way that sometimes I just don't see. She is the perfect person to have in an English class. When I sit next to her, I know she will have something intelligent to add to the conversation. Ahhhhh I'm smiling just writing this! I love that girl. I love to listen to her talk, and hear about her life. I love that she can speak Spanish so beautifully and that she has an amazing Panamanian family. She gets to live two worlds, and she shares her stories. She is a wonderful, cultural, talented girl. She can sing and play the guitar. She plays better than I do, and I've been playing twice as long. She's amazing. I learn so much from her every day.
     And her blogs! They're so well written and funny, and creative and smart. Oy vey, I sound like I'm smitten. Which I am :) I'm so glad I know Monica and am in her class. I love talking to her and working with her and laughing with her. I feel like we really have a connection, which is something everyone needs. When we watched the Crucible in class, we were both trying not to cry. We decided we were going to have a Crucible party at her house and eat pizza and cry together at the end. This is the sort of person I love to be with. Someone who is not afraid to be herself and speak her mind, and who has the bloom of love and happiness in her. She adds so much to my life, and I am so, eternally grateful for her.
     I LOVE YOU MONICA, MI AMIGA HERMOSA!!

I am a plow

     The farmer pushes his plow. Push, push. He pushes all day. It's hot outside. He's hot. The sun beats down on his shining head, the sweat trickles down his temple. The day is hot and dry.
     His ears pick up the distinct sound of the woodpecker, pecking away at the skin of the tree across the field. He stops. He listens. He closes his eyes and his mind floats, his entire soul floats. He is that mockingbird. But reality snaps him back. He plows.
     The farmer pushes his plow. He pushes, rows upon rows, he must finish before dusk falls. He has no choice. This is his life. He pushes until he has blisters on his hands. He feels the tender skin, longs for a time when he must plow no more. He closes his eyes and his mind floats, his entire soal floats. He is holding his hands under the cool, clear water. He hears the woodpecker pecking. He opens his eyes. He plows.
     Mid-afternoon, she comes to him. She brings him water to drink and food to eat. He sits with her in the shade of the woodpecker's tree. He leans against her, his rock, his light, his life. He loves her. He wishes he could sit there forever. He does not want to plow. But he plows.
     The farmer pushes his plow. He pushes until his day's work is done. The day's labor is finished, he can go home. But he must push the plow to it's resting place. He cannot leave it out. It is a burden he would rather not care for. But he pushes. He places it in it's bed, it's home, it's barn. It sits in the dark. It waits for morning.
     The farmer pushes his plow. Push, push. He pushes all day. He hates his plow. He depends upon his plow. He loathes his plow. He loathes his plow. He loathes his plow.
     I am a plow. The last wanted. The least preferred. I am the plow, that inconveniences the life around me, yet for some incomprehensible reason, I hold on still. They hold onto me, and I cling to them like a life-line. I do not want to be forgotten in the dark. I want to be reawoken each morning. But no one wants to awake me. Yet they come for me, each morning. They cannot live without me. I am a plow. Don't forget me.

Changes in the Classroom?

     I totally love this class. I love our discussions and our opportunity to chose our own book for independent reading. I love how we get homework that is beneficial to us without causing us to fall over dead with exhaustion and boredom. It's a really awesome credit. Soooo, you should probably give me some extra credit now, Mr. McCarthy..... :) Just kidding.
     But seriously. This class is da bomb. With a "d". One thing I think would be a nice change is if we, um, AHEM AHEM, changed the book we are currently reading, The House of the Seven Gables. It's a...uhh...very....riveting book...with great description and....detail. It's a great book. If you're blind. Just kidding. Sorry, that's not funny. Especially if you're blind....yeeahhh...
     Since I can't think of anything to change in this class, I shall speak of other classes. Or just school in general.  I think we should have current events. Tons of people (including myself) don't know what the heck is going on in the world, and that problem could be remedied if we talked about it in class. I don't think we should get really deep into it, but talking about a piece of news every day or something would be nice.
     I also think we should get less homework (duh, of course). But honestly, I believe half of the homework teachers give us is just busy work that actually decreases our learning capacity. Doing homework takes away time we could be sleeping, and sleeping is ESSENTIAL to learning, and health. Homework is devastating to our health. The end. Of my blog.
     Also I enjoy canoles.

Modern Day Slavery

     This is going to sound so terrible. So don't judge me till I'm done explaining. For my entire life, I've known that slavery is awful. I've known that people were mistreated for years, and what a miracle it was for slaves to be freed. But I've known it like I know the sky is blue. I never actually thought about it. Oh okay, slavery, yeah that sucked, thank God we had Abraham Lincoln, right? I never really, really thought about what it meant. Then, a few weeks ago (I don't remember what brought it up), it hit me. Slavery. People owning people. The idea that ANY human is better than another, enough to feel that they can literally own, like a piece of clothing, someone. To make them do all their work. To scold them. To beat them. It's sick. I know it's absolutely horrible that I've just come to that realization, but that's just how it happened. Maybe because slavery has been taught about at school, sort of as a time period almost, rather than getting into the personal aspect of it.
     I know that slavery is illegal now. I know there aren't slaves in the United States like there were hundreds of year ago, humans that are owned by other humans to do their strenuous work. There's no such thing. But that does not mean there aren't other types of slaves. By definition, a slave is a person who is the property of and wholly subject to another. A bond servant. So no, there aren't slaves like there were years and years ago. But there are still slaves. Slaves to addiction. Slaves to work. Slaves to each other, even still. There are things people do to each other that are too horrible to even imagine. Kidnapping and rape and sex slaves. This all exists, and it is in its own way a form of slavery. Yes, we outlawed slavery. Yes, things are way better than they were. But we still need to watch. We need to watch to make sure these things don't continue to go on in the world. Because it's slavery.

Alaina's Craziness

This blog is called Alaina's Craziness because Mr. McCarthy told me to call it that, just saying.

     The Puritans were a confusing group of people. On the one hand, they were super super strict. They had to do everything right so they wouldn't go to hell; they disapproved of drinking in large quantities (understandable) and even banned the practice of toasting one another; they were the cause of the Salem Witch Trials, which, because of the manner in which people were sometimes accused, seems to me like a good reason for the accuser to go to hell. Celebration in general was banned from 1659 to 1681 in Boston, and they disapproved of Christmas celebrations for a long while, even after celebrations were once again legal. Many people today are under the impression that Puritans were against sexual activity of any kind. On the contrary, it was perhaps one of the most important parts of their society. When a man and woman wanted to get married, they needed to go through a series of steps, including contracts and announcements and celebrations, at the end of which was sexual intercourse. If the husband and wife could not, for one reason or another, perform this act, the marriage could be damaged. Often the contract between him and his bride would dissolve.

     The Puritans had so many strict rules that it is only natural that eventually that religion would die out. But,  regardless of the fact that the Puritan way is largely dissolved today, they have had an enormous influence on society. They essentially started the first public schools, and founded what we know today as one of the very top schools in the country: Harvard. Located in Cambridge, Massachusetts, Harvard has turned out some of the finest professionals in the country. Cambridge is a town located not far from a very famous village, Salem.

     Several Puritans lived in Salem, Massachusetts. Salem is a very old town, the port of several stories, many of which are not easy to hear. The most famous of these is, of course, The Salem Witch Trials. These trials began in the winter of 1692 when a group of girls became sick and blamed certain members of the community for their illness. Hundreds of people were accused, wrongly of course, of witchcraft, and 19 men and women were hanged. One man was also pressed to death. Another famous feature of salem is the House of the Seven Gables.

     The House of the Seven Gables was built by a Salem sea captain and merchant named John Turner in 1668. Whoa. That was a long time ago. After being in the family for three generations, the house was handed over to Captain Samuel Ingersoll, who died at sea and left the property to his daughter, Susanna. Susanna was a cousin of the man who later became a very influential American writer, Nathaniel Hawthorne. Hawthorne visited the house so many times that it inspired the setting and title of his novel in 1851.

     Obviously, the Puritans did not have  lifestyle they were able to maintain. But, because of their amazing advances in schooling, we now have the ability to attend schools. Because of the House of the Seven Gables, Nathaniel Hawthorne was able to write a beautiful piece of literature that has been read by thousands of children in the schools the Puritans were able to create. Ahh, what a wonderful world.

The Moment I Knew I Was An American

     This is a difficult question to answer. I think I've always known I'm an American. Okay, let me rephrase that though. Of course I've always known I'm an American. I was born in Chicago, I've been raised in the same house all my life. It's more than being born in America though. I went to school at the age of five to learn to read and write and do math. I learned Spanish so well I could almost speak fluently. The very fact that I had the chance to learn it that well should have been a sign to me that I'm American, tough I didn't acknowledge it at the time. I learned from an early age history of my country and the presidents. I don't think there was a real moment when I realized that I am an American. I've just always known.
     Of course, there have been times when that fact is more prominent than others. I've traveled from a young age, France and England at the age of nine, then off to Thailand at age twelve, only to visit Scotland and Greece in eighth grade, and Costa Rica a couple years later. I am so lucky to be able to visit these places, and it makes me realize the privileged world in which I grew up. I've had the chance to travel to several places of the globe, but each time it is clear to me that the culture I know is different from any of these countries. Some speak different languages, eat different foods, have different religions and family values. Everyone is different. That's why I think there was never a real moment of realization to me, that I am an American. Because all cultures are different. Especially with the fact that American culture is so diverse, it's hard to identify myself with a single "American culture".

Us vs. Them...Us and Them

     There are so, so many things that can push a person to do the wrong thing. The key to that question though, is society. Things in society cause people to make the wrong choices every day. Peer pressure, for one thing, is the root of many choices. People are pushed into doing things they don't want to do, even though they know in their heart that it is the wrong decision. But it's hard to make the right choice when everyone else is saying differently.
     Another, slightly less noticeable branch of peer pressure is when you're trying to do something for the good of someone else. I myself have fallen into the trap of always trying to please other people, instead of doing what's best for myself. I'm not saying it's bad to do things for other people, and to try to make them happy, but it can get to be too much. Sometimes, while trying to please someone else, one can be blind to what is really the right thing to do, and choose the wrong thing. This kind of thing can happen easily, and is not always spotted until later on. You can feel really good about "doing the right thing" and making someone else happy, and then realize later on that you missed something.
     Things in society cause people to choose the wrong thing all the time. Whether it be peer pressure, the need to please others, advertisement, or just a subtle "social norm", people make the wrong choices. It happens. What can't happen is people beating themselves up over the wrong choices. Once you've made a choice, it's made. If it's not something you can change, don't worry about it. It's not worth it. Treat every mistake like a gift, because it's teaching you a lesson. Society, "them", is always against "us". We need to be strong and individual, or our sense of self will be lost. It's always going to be "Us vs. Them", and the only thing to do is be strong. If you falter, take it in your stride and start again.