Month: January 2019

Podcasts are an interesting and dynamic way of sharing information; in creating one I was able to see the process behind one and I really enjoyed it. They are something that’s easy to listen to while doing simple activities: chores, cleaning, etc.

As a young boy, I was particularly entranced by the harry potter franchise as a series. It all started when I was very young, as every night my father would read a chapter or two to me, as I curled up in some blankets on the couch. Spoiler alert: the reading session usually ended with me asleep on the couch, and my father would carry me up to bed. This was our nightly routine, and I adored it. Sitting back, laughing as he used funny voices to make each and every one of the characters come to life in my mind. I started learning that characters each had their own personalities and side stories. But of course, we eventually ran out of books (some had not been released yet), and I got older and older, so the nighttime stories ceased.

I became reintroduced to the Harry Potter series around fifth grade, and progressively read all of the books in the series by myself over time. It was like going back to a house that you used to live in, or meeting up with old friends. I stayed up late, reading every page with the same voices my father used so long ago.

And then I reached the last book in the series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which my parents had never read (Perhaps that was why I found it so intriguing). My family became increasingly more busy as my father went back to school for his degree and my mother started working. This book was uncharted territory as far as my family was concerned, which made me want to read it even more.

So I did. I squeezed every last word and paragraph from that book like juice from a lemon. I chipped and chipped away at it until I had finally finished it. Of course, I felt on top of the world for accomplishing such a daunting task for me at that time, plus I could rub it in their faces that I knew how everything ends. I then went and proceeded to tell my parents exactly how it did. I felt accomplished with a slight dash of sentimental, as I realized now I was the one telling the story.

When you go into high school, you expect two basic things: to become more mature, and to learn a lot (as much homework as it may be). I mean, four years can seem like a long time. What I didn’t expect, however, was how I would become more mature through my learning. I realized this when reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in my AP Literature and Composition class. Walking in for the first class, I expected a challenge unlike what I had previously. The syllabus was daunting as hell, but as usual, I was up for the challenge.

The chairs and desks of the classroom were set up in a circle, something I had seen only a few times before, but this was high school; the classroom itself represented the more mature knowledge I was expecting for school. The teacher explained that the class would involve some in-depth discussions, and that lack of participation would lead to a poor grade in the course. We went over all the books we would be covering over the course of the semester, and one of the books stuck out like a sore thumb in my eyes.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was burned into the paper of the syllabus. I soon remembered that name from a memory in my childhood: a particularly curious young boy, stumbling through books around the house, came across a copy of that same book. His parents had told him not to read that book because it was for older boys. Of course, I tried anyways. Turns out, they were right. I couldn’t read a damn page, it was just too much to understand.

Flash forward to the AP Literature and Composition classroom, where we were far enough into the semester to begin the book. Once I started reading the book, I couldn’t stop. I fell completely in love with every page and there was always some deeper understanding of every paragraph that we would discuss in class that drew me in further. This was really the first time that I started thinking about what authors goals are in composition, and how it can be reflected on our society, whether directly or through juxtaposition.

On this utterly average cold winter day in Maine at the University of New England, I was blessed with the opportunity to attend the “Freedom is a Constant Struggle” talk by none other than Angela Davis, a renowned supporter of the black freedom movement throughout the years. It was not too long ago that I was in high school, only just beginning to read some of her works; only a small portion of her massive contribution to the movement. Entering the talk, the first thing I noticed below the thunderous crowd of people was the immaculate and undeniable energy of the room. The faces of the many different people in all directions were beaming with excitement. I realized that I really couldn’t blame them— It is not a common occurrence to have such an influence visit you at your own home. 

After a series of introductory speeches came and went, the moment finally arrived where we were greeted by the big reputable smile of Davis herself; Hundreds rising to their feet to welcome her to our institution. Her talk ranged from passionate calls for reform to humorous jeers at some political controversies. Throughout the talk, she mentioned some of her historical and complex life story, referencing her experience growing up in the racism of the south, and drew a parallel between those times and the modern day discourse and violence in the middle east. This was a powerful addition to the talk, as in America many think of the Jim Crow era segregation as something over and done with, rather than being the huge and important issue affecting many today. 

One part that particularly resonated with me was her mention of trans black women specifically and their place in society as one of, if not the most oppressed groups today. Too often I hear from discourse that intersectionality is used as an “oppression card,” something that is simply “put away after use”— a grievance that usually arises from groups that do not understand the fundamentals of intersectionality. What is often misconstrued are their lives, where others assume that the race, class, or gender of an individual is their main defining feature, rather than the more personable descriptors (such as personality, hobbies, etc). 

Overall, it was a very important and engaging talk. Listening to someone with such passion and insight was a great experience, and I am glad to have been blessed with the opportunity. 

Sitting in my second grade classroom, eight year-old me was prepared only for the basic lesson planned for that day. Writing, math, reading— I cannot remember. What I can remember, however, is the short lady in a green dress that entered shortly after. A stranger, wearing droopy earrings and glasses to the end of her nose quickly made herself known to the beaming, curious eyes of fifteen second graders, and soon after asked for me and some other students to come with her. Hesitantly, the other students and I rose to follow the strange woman down the hall into a small, unmarked yellow room. In response to our quietness, “I assure you,” she said, “you are not in any kind of trouble.” 

As we entered the room, we were greeted by a couple small desks and chairs fitting for our eight year old bodies. After sitting down, we hoped to finally gain some clarity in regards to our situation. “Helllllllllllo! My name is Mrs. _____,” she said, “and you have all been brought here because your teachers think that you are very talented for your age.” She went on to explain that we were selected for the enrichment program, where we would receive work in reading, writing, and math that would be more fitting for our level of learning. As a lower-class student attending a primarily upper middle-class school, I was used to usually never being at the top of any social situation, so this news was a shock to me. Sitting alongside me was some of my favorite classmates, all looking as excited as me. The prospect of me being on top was foreign to me, but the undertaking seemed like a good challenge, so I accepted. Over the years, those classmates would prove to be some of my greatest allies. From elementary to high school, and from high school to today, we have used each other for help and support. 

The program itself has to this day benefitted me greatly, as through it I gained a true passion for learning. The writing assignments and readings helped me better explain my thinking in ways I couldn’t before. This intrigued me, and has served as a backbone to my love for education throughout the years.