Finals got you down?

Here are ten ways to cope with your impending doom!

1.) Dig a hole. I mean, a really deep hole. Once you have dug said hole, lay in it. I’m not telling you to die there or anything, that’s entirely optional. If you need some motivation, think about your math final, and how you have literally never taken any notes at all.

(Click here for more info. on digging a proper grave.)

2.) Scream really, really loudly. Freak out your neighbors. Go ahead. You know you hate them. Do you even know their names? Of course not.

3.) Lay on the floor for a little bit and relive every embarrassing thing you’ve ever done. Come on. You know you want to. (At least more than you want to worry about finals.)

4.) Take a shower and maybe lay on the floor for a little bit. Might as well.

5.) Draw a chalk box on the concrete and sit in it. Everything around you is lava, except what’s inside that box. Don’t believe me? Your finals are located outside of that box.

6.) Get in a fight with someone who cares about you. It will 100% take away all focus from your finals. Unless you are really underprepared, like yours truly, in which case there is no hope.

7.) Go for a run. Plan to run to the nearby Starbucks. Run further. Run too far. Run way too far. Let the sun set, go somewhere creepy, and wait to be kidnapped. Foolproof. You think being kidnapped is too scary? FINALS.

8.) Do you have any allergies? Now is the time to thank whatever forces blessed you with them. Allergic to cats? Go lick one. Hug it. Rub it on your face. Peanut butter? Really dig into a nice jar of Jif and thank me later.

9.) Find a trustworthy friend, and kindly ask them to push you down some stairs.  If they are skeptical, here is a note from a trustworthy source (me) on why this is a good idea:

Dear friend, don’t hold back. It’s for their own good. Don’t believe me? Check their notes. Yes, that is a sketch of Justin Bieber pre-Gomez. No, there are no notes on the Aeneid in there. Keep looking, I promise.

10.) Or you could, like, study or something.

F.I.N.A.L.S.
Photo credit: memegenerator.net

Boys Rule, Girls Drool.

It’s a well know fact to all teachers that the average boy is behind in the industrial world, beginning in Pre-K, and lasting through to college.

Boys, simply put, haven’t been doing nearly as well as girls in school. Statistics have shown that, on average, boys’ grades consist of mainly C’s and D’s, while girls hold more college degrees.

This phenomenon is a growing epidemic in all countries, and all cultures. 70 to 80 percent of the students accepted to Advanced Placement (AP) classes are girls. This increasingly large gap doesn’t pertain only to inner-city boys, it includes boys from each and every corner of American Society, and beyond.

Photo Credit: heartbreakhypnotist.com

This education crisis has been the focus of large schools, which are actively trying to curve the problem. Some blame ethics and how the social dynamic of school affects young male students, who see athletics as their way to shine. Others blame the school system as a whole for failing to provide boys with a system that adequately suits them, and demand a larger outcry for boys, just as there was for girls thirty years ago.

Jefferson Academy in Long beach C.A. has taken a different approach, by putting students into gender-separated classes. For boys, they have placed a larger emphasis on academics as opposed to sports. So far, the school has seen a large success rate in test scores and overall effort.

Though schools across the country are hesitant to apply this practice, this agenda has been proved so far to be beneficial. As a boy with coed classes, I don’t believe I would want to have my class suddenly split.

If this were the only way to resolve this issue, it should happen with a new generation, rather than the current generation enjoys the luxury of mixed classes and would be opposed to anything but.

Research also points out how an emphasis on academic success may be just as beneficial in the long run. With similar intelligence rates among boys and girls, the academic gap could be eliminated through better parenting, and a greater emphasis on boys in class.

To what extremes would the school system go in order to help young boys succeed? That is the ethical question that the next generation, and America as a whole, may have to face.

I am the Wreckage Left Behind

There is no feeling in the world like finishing a good book.

It’s like a slap in the face, or getting a bucket of ice water poured on your head. It’s a jolt that causes me to realize that I haven’t been in my body for the past – a glance at the clock – seven hours.

Nothing mattered. I was running through the streets of Ketterdam, a thief fighting the odds alongside Kaz Brekker, I was battling he who must not be named with my fellow students and professors, I was Aelin Galathynius and no one could stop me.

But once my eyes greedily devour what’s left on that page, I’m back to being me.

Just a girl with cold feet, a stiff posture and the most marvelous one pound object in front of me.

I’ll spend the rest of the day in a blind daze. Wondering why I am no longer in Ketterdam, or at Hogwarts.

And it hurts. A physical ache in my chest. Why isn’t this me? Why aren’t I living this kind of life?

And its an awful realization that I’m not.

For the rest of the day I’m shaky, seconds away from crying for no good reason. I’m hyperaware of whatever I’m doing in the world around me, but lost, aimlessly drifting in a world that seems like it’s not quite real.

I’m lost, just wanting to be able to read the book for the first time again. To get lost all over again.

I wander through the house, wanting that life, wanting to just disappear into the books that I love, to live these incredible lives.

Despite the struggle, the scars, the damage, the truly horrendous pasts that give dimension to the people who I am closer to than anyone else in the world, I want to be these people.

And **** the writers who create these worlds and these people. I run from my emotions and yet I can’t run from reading, and emotions are all I get from reading. I can’t bring myself to run from these writers. I’m like a junkie who hates what they do to themselves but loves the ride too much.

All I want to do is read and never reach the end. But equally so, the end is the best part. I am constantly tempted to rip out the last page and toss it to hell but I can’t. I always walk through the fire for it.

Photo Credit: BBC

It’s not like finishing a movie or a show. That is me watching someone else doing something. When I finish a book, I have been put through the same ringer the characters have. I have lived the same life.

Part of my soul is fulfilled and yet a larger part of it is missing. Finishing a book is losing a part of myself. A part of myself that I have committed hours to, I have paced for, I have lived for.

When I finish a book, I finish a lifetime. I say goodbye to friends who never knew me but I knew them. I say goodbye to a family that I loved in that time more than I have ever loved. I say goodbye to a reincarnation of myself. I say goodbye to something that doesn’t even know I exist and yet has wrecked me.

There is no feeling in the world like finishing a good book.

It is a feeling akin to finding the one thing in all of life that you search for, and losing the one thing in all the universe that you cannot stand to lose.

Whitewashing and No I Don’t Mean Stucco Walls

Halloween brings with it a lot of feelings. Excitement, happiness, the “officialness” of fall, and the feeling that all those scary things that go bump in the night are real. All of those feelings are expected, but the feeling that isn’t expected but seems to be there anyway, is a certain insecurity and anxiety.

Recently, I have grown even more conscious of my choice of Halloween costume.

Last year I found myself having to explain who I was dressed as to a complete stranger who made a not so delicate reference to my race.

He said to me, with a quizzical eyebrow raised, “Are you, like, an Asian version of, like, Harry Potter’s girlfriend or something?”

I didn’t realize at the time how much this bothered me, but the more I thought about it, the more troubling it became.

Firstly, I was not a Harry Potter character – I had no reference to Hogwarts or Harry Potter on my person. Secondly, unless he was referring to Cho Chang, who most people forget dated Harry, he was referring to Ginny Weasley (Potter). Who is not/was not just Harry Potter’s girlfriend – she was a Weasley and a kick-butt heroine.

But it really bothers me that in order to play a character that I adore or admire, people have to specify that I am the Asian version of them. Admittedly unavoidable because I am Asian, but still bothersome.

As I thought more about this, I started to think of an Asian character I could be. I thought of all the books I have read and all the movies that I have seen. Very few came to mind.

Which brings me to light whitewashing. As I furtively searched for a Halloween costume this year, I found myself not wanting to have to explain to someone that I am an Asian-American dressing up as someone who is just American or just white in general.

So I ended up looking up Asian movie and book characters. It is disappointing that I had to search this in the first place, and almost as disappointing that I found even less.

This whitewashing issue is true for every “not white” race, but I put a stress on Asian because that is what I am.

Here are some examples of some of Hollywood’s whitewashing:

Photo Credit: Hollywood Reporter

I went looking for Asian screen characters that I could play, and the results were dismal. Then I looked for articles addressing whitewashing, and truthfully I found quite a few, but it was hard to find any that were specific to the Asian-American demographic.

I did find one by the New York Times though, which was nice because it wasn’t just about how whitewashed Hollywood is or how lacking in Asians it is. The article was also about how some Asian-American stars who had made it to recognition were fighting back (read more here).

Piggy-backing on the New York Times’ article, the Odyssey also published an article about the whitewashing of Asians in American cinema, stating, “The only difference between this generation’s whitewashing and the previous generation’s whitewashing is the gradual separation from the use of “yellowface.” (read more here).

Now Hollywood just neglects that the fact that the character was meant to be Asian.

But thanks to Buzzfeed, I can at least see what blockbuster films would look like with Asian leads. For example, this is only one of them:

Photo Credit: Buzzfeed

Perhaps part of the issue comes from my own insecurity of not looking “enough” like the people I look up to. But it does make me sad that I don’t find more people to look up to who look like me.

Aubrie and Daisy

Every month, Netflix updates its movie collection, and ever since 2013, it has put out some new shows with each batch. Recently released was Audrie and Daisy, a documentary that caught my attention.

Released to Netflix on September 23rd, Audrie and Daisy tells the stories of two high school girls’ experiences with sexual assault.

The first girl, 16-year-old Audrie Pott, had gone to a high school party. She was black-out drunk when a group of three teenage boys sexually assaulted her. When she woke up the next morning, she was berated with hateful comments at school and online. It was only nine days later that she hung herself.

The second girl, Daisy Coleman, had a similar story. When she was fourteen, she and her best friend snuck out and went to a “party” in the basement of seventeen-year-old Matthew Barnett, grandson of a former state legislator. There, Coleman was pressured by Barnett and his friends to drink until she was in a coma-like state. When she was immobile and asleep, the boys continuously raped her for hours. She woke up frozen on her front lawn and was immediately rushed to the hospital. Even for almost 12 hours after, her blood alcohol level was a striking 0.1349 (the legal limit for Missouri adults is 0.08.) Immediately following her recovery, she was harassed online by kids at her school and even adults online.

When I heard their stories I was appalled by our society, even though these events happened nearly four years ago. I feel ashamed to live in a world where people who sexually assault others can walk away from a victim they just took something from, and not face any severe consequences. I feel ashamed to live in a society where victims are driven to suicide just so people will stop making their terrible memories even worse. I’m ashamed that grown adults join in on the childish gossiping and bullying.

News stories of these two rapes held a certain air to them. When Matthew Barnett was put on trial, the news anchors refused to say that Coleman had been raped. They would talk about how Barnett’s grandfather was a state legislator and how he would simply apologize to Coleman and be granted two years’ probation. He would walk free, while Coleman would always have to live with what he did to her. She would have to live with the constant criticism in her home town.

We should learn how to help victims of any crime, especially ones as sensitive as rape. We should learn to teach our children not to rape people. We should teach our children not to say things without thinking of the consequences.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29Dr4ChJUBc

Click here to read an interview with Daisy Coleman.

Religion is a Diminishing Variable

Imagine a world with no religion, no set of laws and morals set by a religious sect, set in place to give people a path in life to help themselves or others, and to achieve happiness.

Would the world burn without this path?

Probably not. In fact, religious influence may be diminishing across the western world, including the surprisingly Christian United States.

Yet many fight this fall in religion, by stating rising statistics of incarceration due to the lack of Christian belief and a strong belief in the “rise of drug use.”

The evidence says otherwise – usage of drugs with the exception of marijuana (due to legalization) has steadily declined since the 1970s. However, the large jump of incarcerated people did have a major and steady increase between 1980s and 2000. That increase suddenly halted, remaining the same until 2010, and then slightly dropping the last six years.

So, is the drop in the number of believers due to the rise of criminals? In a graph, the conclusion would be most definitely not. Other variables had far more influence on the rise of incarceration, such as longer jail time, better criminal investigation, and stricter laws. The infamous drug war also had an effect on drug use, though only for a proportion of the population. Today it’s become a black hole of federal spending which will be touched on in another blog.

Photo Credit: prisonpolicy.org

Actually, it is just a coincidence – just because there’s a drop in religion doesn’t mean it’s directly affecting the safety of the world. Funny enough, nuclear weapons have a far larger statistical influence on world peace.

George Carlin famously said, “More people have been killed in the name of God than for any other reason.” This popular quote used across the world is completely untrue, only 7% of all war has been caused by religion and only 2% of all casualties were because of religion. In fact, religion plays as big of a role in our lives as the average person or government. The lack or abundance of faith has little to no influence – bad people are still bad, and good people stay good, with or without religion.

Statistically, religion is an independent variable with little influence except to the ones who preserve it and try to broaden its influence. So whether god is real or not, should all people of the planet were to lose their faith, there’s little evidence of any possible retaliation from the big man himself. Instead, maybe a few more progressive laws could be passed and there will be a drop in hate crimes. Or maybe numbers be damned, and tomorrow the second coming will happen.

The Year Everyone Was Offended By Everythi

As I grow older, I continue to notice more about those around me. This year, I have taken particular attention to the issues with body image and gender debates and have noticed that in every aspect of these subjects, people seem to become greatly offended.

Having a “positive body image” is all about loving yourself no matter how much you weigh or what jean size you wear, yet people on both sides of the spectrum are constantly critiquing each other.

Words like “fat” and “anorexic” and “overweight” have become sensitive, and it no longer matters if you are skinny, overweight, chubby, or just average; you WILL be criticized for your weight. The irony in this is everyone is preaching having a positive body image, when in reality, we continue to criticize those who are not of an ideal weight.

Secondly, the gender debates. Recently, two UCLA women publicized their opinions on gender neutral bathrooms stating “Transgenderism is a mental disorder”, “get your agenda out of my bathroom”, and “there are only two genders”. While many may agree or disagree, these are their opinions, and they are entitled to share them.

The issue here is that no matter what, people will always have different opinions, the issue at hand is to cease the mass amounts of sensitivity towards these subjects. Understandably, people have strong opinions on these subjects, but this is not a reason to push personal opinions onto everyone around us.

Just my opinion.

PHOTO: 

Darkness

Sometimes I can’t move.  I’ll lay in bed staring blankly at a screen.  I am not evening watching the movie that my eyes are fixated on.  I’m in another world.

The darkness started in my brain, it made me smile less, and cry more.

Then it moved into my eyes,

the darkness made me see things differently.

When I looked in the mirror I didn’t see myself anymore, I saw a girl with dark black eyes.

Darkness took over my mouth soon after.  Negativity spewed out like oil in the middle of a dark blue ocean.  It covered me with a thick black liquid.

Darkness wrapped around my heart so tightly that nothing could escape.

Things I once loved, things that brought me so much happiness no longer warmed my heart, they simply pasted in front of me like a person I use to know.

Darkness takes my legs from time to time.  There’s nothing I want more but to move.  I want to run, and dance and write and jump. 

Instead I sit, lifeless, glaring at the sticky white ceiling of my room.

I would like to think I am stronger than the darkness.

I know I’m not.

Sometimes I trick the darkness.

I make jokes, and laugh and pretend like he doesn’t exist.

The darkness is stronger than me.

And takes over.

Obsession

T-9 hours until I receive a decision from my second choice school.

For the past week, I have been constantly contemplating my academic strengths and weaknesses, calculating my chances at these schools… as if I have a chance at predicting the decisions I will receive.

I have never wanted anything more than to be accepted to these institutions.

My top two school choices for the past few years have been the University of Southern California and Occidental College.

I would be happy at either college, however, my chances of getting into either school are slim.

In comparison to other students that applied to Occidental, I am just slightly below average, GPA and SAT wise.

In comparison to other students who applied to USC, I am sub-par, with my GPA and SAT scores falling quite far below their average accepted student.

I keep trying to envision myself at another school, but simply cannot.

I want Oxy and USC so badly it hurts. My stomach has been in knots for days, and until 5:00 pm this evening, I will not feel relief.

I know this feeling is normal, but that does not affect my level of anxiety. I remain eager, waiting impatiently.

Good luck to all of the high school seniors waiting to hear from their favorite schools, you will end up wherever you are supposed to.

Photo Credit to: michelleshaeffer.com

 

 

Growing Pains

Photo Credit to: theodysseyonline.com

Monogamy as a concept is a strange thing, but little girls are taught from early childhood to believe that it is the ultimate goals.

More than half of my friends parents are divorced, often times with one parent leaving the other behind completely abandoned.

For me, I don’t even remember my parents kissing because I was so young when they divorced. Yet, pretty much every story I was read at night ended with a boy and a girl falling in love and living happily ever after.

Now, I sit here in my late teenage years watching beautiful relationships turn toxic in the blink of an eye.

What was once the most amazing time of your life quickly becomes a distant and wildly painful memory.

I just broke up with the first person that I’ve ever loved and because of that I’m feeling certain emotions that I’ve never felt before.

I’m not sure how to dispose of these feelings for someone who I’m still kind of in love with, even though they hurt me so deeply and so consistently.

How do you know your last kiss will be your last kiss?

How do you know when he says “I love you” that it will be the last time you ever hear those words grace his lips.

There is no rule book on this stuff – no matter how much I wish there was.

My mom always said “love shouldn’t hurt”, and that is a major factor into why certain relationships of mine have ceased to exist.

But mom, you’re wrong.

Love hurts.

It hurts when you’re so full of passion that your heart could practically explode.

It hurts when you get in your first fight.

And love really hurts right about now.