In this day and age, police have an astronomical amount of authority. They can ticket, arrest, and charge people whenever they deem fit.
But at what point is the state giving police too much power?
A number of times within the past year, news reports of police brutality have been popping up. For what you may ask? Police abusing their power and unnecessarily harming, who usually seem to be, African-American or Hispanic males.
This raises another issue: racial segregation.
Are police prone to act forcefully against different races? Although there are a good amount of African-American and Hispanic officers in the Force, there ARE more white than any other race.
Do these officers act so strongly because there is a pre-requisite for violence in these races? But what about Caucasians? Why is there no pre-requisite for them?
One of the most popular events that occurred was the shooting of Michael Brown.
Michael Brown was only 18 years old when he was shot by a Police Officer in Ferguson, Missouri. He, un-armed, approached a white officer’s police car and got into a short struggle that ended with Mr. Brown fleeing, surrendering, turning around face-forward at the officer, just to have the officer shoot him twelve times.
This caused an uprising all throughout Ferguson. Many rallies and riots were held even months after his death. Probably due to the fact that the white officer was not charged with anything.
If you have access to the internet, friends that live in countries that have books, or generally do not live under a rock, you have probably heard of 50 Shades of Grey. Notorious for its promiscuous content, this novel has taken the world by storm and is soon to be a major motion picture – on Valentine’s Day, no less.
An avid reader and an admittedly avid consumer, I decided to purchase this work when in an airport preparing for a five-hour flight. It was definitely fun to snap a picture of the familiar cover of the book and upload it to my Snapchat story, immediately to receive texts from my friends asking me “WHY?!”.
To be honest, I wanted to read it to see if it really was what everyone said it was: fan fiction you could read out of a book. In other words, a bunch of pornographic material slapped in between a meekly written romance. It ended up being exactly that. The book follows a quiet and innocent but opinionated girl named Anastasia fresh out of college. She meets Christian Grey, a rich, handsome CEO of a huge company. One thing leads to another, and they begin a very interesting relationship that I cannot elaborate on, as this is a school blog.
The book itself is not very well written – if it was not as widely discovered as it was, it probably would not have been successful at all. The writer, E.L. James, probably owes her success to the internet and honestly, the immaturity of teenagers. The over-hyping of this “sex book,” spread by young adults, is probably how it got so popular – the simple novelty of it, reading it, owning it.
Now that I own it and have read it, I can confidently say that 50 Shades of Grey does not live up to the hype, it simply is hype.
Although terms such as racism and sexism are given negative connotations, any form of generalization, whether good or bad, falls under these categories.
Racism stems from discrimination against those who are not caucasian, especially in the form of slavery. Nowadays, just because all races are given equal rights, it is a common misconception that racism is no longer relevant. As long as there are different races, any division between them is racism. Grouping a race together and making a general statement about a huge number of individuals is absolutely racist, whether the statement is criticism or praise.
Photo Credit: images.sodahead.com
Sexism follows the same patterns. Former discrimination of women was obviously sexist, but modern-day feminism borders on sexism as well. Although it represents the flip side – the hype is about women’s rights – it still caters to one race much more than the other. Even if men or women as a whole are commended or put before another, it is segregating them from the opposite sex, a form of sexism. Any stereotyping of a gender, no matter the intention, is grouping and labeling an entire sex – a countless number of people – and is therefore perpetuating sexist behavior.
Both racism and sexism continue to be relevant in everyday life. A huge compliment may be given to an entire race or a single gender, but that is still a form of discrimination. These prejudices should not be a standard occurrence, and recognition of their existence is key.
If the one thing you loved to do more than anything else was inaccessible?
I don’t really know either.
Since I was a toddler, I have been skiing. As soon as the season starts until the day the season ends, I have always taken every opportunity I get to drive up to the mountains. I feel at home on the mountain; I know there is no other place I would rather be.
This year, I have only had a week of ski time in Mammoth.
I guess living in Southern California is not the best place for an avid skier to live.
Photo Credits: statim.guo.uk.com
This brings me to my main point: where would an avid skier live? Aspen? Switzerland? Canada?
In about a year and a half I will be deciding which college to attend for the next four years of my life, which makes me question if I should move out of California and move somewhere I can ski on a regular basis.
But do I really want to move states or countries away from family and friends?
As a first-year journalism student, I have the tedious task of producing two blogs a week. They aren’t hard pieces of writing – they have a 150 word minimum and can be about absolutely anything. However, every time I sit down to write one, I find myself with intense writer’s block.
Photo Credit: poetjohndavisjr.files.wordpress.com
It’s not that my life is so boring that there’s nothing to write about, honestly. It’s just that I can never translate it into writing! I never know if I should talk about what’s happening in my day-to-day life or if I should speak more about worldly current events.
The most difficult part of writing blogs is the mandatory aspect. If I sat down whenever I had inspiration and simply wrote, my blogs would be great! However, I’m forcing myself to scrounge up “interesting” material and scrape out 150 words, which just takes the magic out of writing.
I’m not saying that everything I write is dull and completely forced, I’m only introducing the idea that if I were to write of my own accord, my writing would be full of life.
When a certain well-educated, poised, and cultured Emmy award-winning investigative journalist said that Putin censors the media in Russia, he was probably not expecting a Russian freshman to get up and forcefully contradict him. I guess OVS is full of surprises.
When we invite a speaker to our school, it is expected that we will be polite and kind. However, when Terry McCarthy visited, a few students were upset by what he said and did not hesitate to speak their minds. McCarthy stated that Putin regulates the media in Russia, and then defended this statement by pointing out that stories told one way in the US are told a different way in Russia, and you can see this by watching their news. A Russian kid sitting behind me immediately became upset and started saying things, quite loudly, to his friends. Eventually he grew so angry that he raised his hand and asked our guest how “he could say this” about Russia.
I understood that he was upset, but I thought what he said to our speaker was incredibly rude. Not only was I embarrassed for McCarthy, who was shocked, but I was also embarrassed for our school. In the future, we should be more respectful towards our visitors and appreciate the time they take to share their stories with us, instead of trying to argue with them.
We have all heard the horror stories of terrorism – beheadings, genocide, suicide bombings and kidnappings. They happen every single day in many different countries. But when is it time for international forces to step in?
Within the past year, an especially violent extremist group called ISIS has been popping up in my news feed quite a bit, usually with a title including the word ‘beheading’.
Journalists, school-children, women and tourists are the central targets for ISIS kidnappings. These are the most profitable groups of people as women and young girls can be sold to wealthy men, and the journalists and tourists will have families back home willing to give everything for their return.
Often, journalists who are kidnapped at their hands will never return, but the gruesome videos of their death will.
ISIS’s signature horror is far beyond anything any extremist group has bothered to do before: publishing the videos of beheadings and slitting of throats on the internet for everyone to see.
Photo Credits: topinfopost.com
The scary thing about ISIS is the unpredictability of their beheadings. There is no negotiating with ISIS – if they decide to kill a captive, they will.
But why has nobody killed their leader already?
Because extremist groups this large are like a Hydra (to reference Greek Mythology). You can eliminate one leader, but when you do, another will just take their place.
Currently there is no way international powers or the UN can end this reign of terror.
We live in a world where we have to be politically correct at all times to avoid offending others. One aspect of being politically correct is avoiding racist terms. Racism occurs when one race is referred to as being superior or having special characteristics that only they have. Calling an African-American person “black” isn’t considered proper by many people – most would say it’s racist. But is it worse than associating a group of people based on a region even if it has no connection to the person? Personally, I would much rather be called white than European-American. I was not born in Europe, neither were my parents or my parents’ parents. I’m sure there are African-Americans that feel the same way. Many so-called African-Americans have no association with Africa; is it logical, therefore, to classify people that way? I strongly believe in equality, that all are born equal, but I don’t believe that it is okay for us to say that something is racist when we are simply referring to skin tone. I think categorizing people by region is more racist than calling a “black” person “black,” because you are saying that people with that skin tone are all from one region. This is classifying people as a whole and is still racist.
As the day goes on, exhaustion starts to grow. Not that I’ve done anything besides sit around all day, but nonetheless, I feel exhausted.
It all happens unconsciously. I sit down next to two friends and then immediately memorize who’s sitting in the room with us. One, two, three, four, and then five adults. The boys take over the couches, and the girls weave around the snack tables.
The big game is showing on the TV, and I repeatedly flicker my eyes to the screen, keeping track of the score and any big plays that might have happened. There are also people outside playing ping-pong, and I try to mentally mark the people who are outside.
And while I’m so absorbed in the room, I’m also talking to the person to my left. The one that is so demanding of my attention, and I’m thinking about my inability to give it to him.
Photo cred; healthyplace.com
Because my mind and my senses are completely split, there is no way in bloody heck that I can ever pay attention to one thing and one thing only. My ears strain to hear the conversations on the couches and my eyes try to watch and make sure everyone is alright and okay. God knows why my mind just can’t settle down.
So now it’s the end of the day, but I don’t feel like I’m allowed to say “I’m exhausted” because I have literally done nothing but sit around all day.
It all began in the dusty lifeless town of Lancaster, with extreme winds that carry the tumble weeds across the hot cracked asphalt. The white Adidas shoes on the telephone lines purchased at the Payless ShoeSource are a reminder of the lack of success. There’s nothing there except unemployed college dropouts who have many offspring who will go down the same road. Those who are employed are the lucky few. They’re the ones who want to break the never-ending circle and go to college. But most of the time, that job was just temporary because those few that do graduate know they can leave this ghost town, and they take the first bus out, leaving nothing but a trail of dust that goes on for miles across the dead Mojave desert. I was fortunate that my parents saved me from a life where being ambitious is becoming the manager at Payless ShoeSource.
I spent the next chapter of my life in a place I am proud to grow up in: The wonderful town of Ventura where surfing is not a hobby; it’s a lifestyle. It’s how people talk, walk and dress. It has this relaxed feel to it — the sound of crashing waves and the fresh sea breeze. Day and night are nothing alike. The day is colorful and full of life; the buildings are colorful and are spread from sea to the mountain; and the beach is always full, looking like a 1950’s Coca Cola poster. Ventura is not just limited to the beach. It’s next to a beautiful mountain. On top, there are the iconic “Two Trees”, which you can see the whole city from. Although there’s all the commotion below, you feel isolated and alone, like there wasn’t a city for hundreds of miles. It’s the best place to watch the sunset. There is nothing like it in the world. The night is much more quiet. I could take a walk on the beach and hear nothing but the crashing tide and see maybe one or two silhouettes of people, outlined by the moon. Main Street at night has a sense of liveliness, even though it’s less than the day. It must be the bright neon lights and all the meter parking that is completely filled, even after shops are closed. As great as this town is, I am not the type of person who can live in one place his whole life.
After College, and winning the Mega Millions a dozen times or so, I would have a custom-built airship I would live on that is basically a flying aircraft carrier, but a little more complex. It wouldn’t be all modern and futuristic; it would be held up by two large balloons that look like they came off a blimp, attached by 100 feet of thick rope like the ones used to tie a cruise ship to a dock. The balloons would be just the right height so I can take off in either of the two planes I would have. One of the planes would be a HU-16 Albatross, a large sea plane that could carry a lot of cargo. It would be military green with a 1950’s pin-up girl with red hair riding a large bomb. The other plane would be a P-51, with a pair of white sharp teeth and a red mouth toward the propeller. A little behind the mouth would be a pair of eyes with a fierce look to them. It would be painted the same tone of green as the cargo plane. The planes would perfectly fit the overall theme of steam punk meets sky captain of tomorrow. Any metal on the airship would be either copper, bronze, or gold. And anything else would be a dark-colored wood. The outside of the ship would be rough wood, the wood used on a pirate ship, but the inside would be detailed refined wood with fancy floral engravings. Polished copper pipes would be visible through the halls and outside of the ship, and two large bronze smoke stacks near the control tower would be used to collect the clouds, turning them into steam and using it to power the ship. When I’m on my ship, I would wear khakis with a brown leather jacket, along with aviator goggles around my neck just to add to the feel. I would only do this on my ship, because it would already be strange going places by old planes.
The seaplane would allow me to go anywhere coastal and my P-51 would allow me to fly to any airport. From the airport, I would take the much more conventional, but less adventuress, method of transportation known as taking a taxi. Transportation would be inconvenient but limitless. I could go anywhere in the world, and that’s what would be so great. I wouldn’t even need to pack bags, because I could just take my ship with me. Once I got married and had kids, I would live on the Ship until the first one turned 5. Then, I would ask them where they wanted to grow up. It could be anywhere in the world; I would then move there so they could have a great place to call home while growing up like I did.
I would live in that town for the rest of my life because it is the end of my adventure and the start of his or hers. I would stay there, so when they come back and visit they will remember the great times they had at their old home where they spent the greatest years of their lives. Wherever it is, I know I will be happy because all I would want is for my children is to have a good life, like my parents have for me. Whether it’s the snowy mountains of Colorado or the cherry-blossom filled streets of Japan, I will gladly spend the rest of my life there.
OVS Journalism Blog 
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