Christmas and Culture Shock

The finals are over. The loose ends are tied. No papers to write. 

You've caught the plane home. You've sort of unpacked (aka you unzipped the suitcase and dug through to find your pajamas).

You said your hellos.

What do you do now?

Sleep. Oh sweet blessed sleep.

Coming home from college for the first time was...super weird.

The nonstop, energetic Hope was finally told to stop. So she did.

I could tell my parents were worried that I was depressed or something. All I wanted to do was sleep and read and eat. Leaving the house the first time was a very special occasion. 

When I did leave the house, I realized that college is exactly all that they said it was.

A big, beautiful bubble of learning and growth and enthusiasm. The best days of your life. 

Then you go back to the "real world".

Everyone is so busy! In college, you are busy too, but you are busy doing what makes you happy. In the "real world"...I don't think people have stopped long enough to figure out what they are busy doing.

At a university, people are seeking: Seeking knowledge, friendship, love, perspectives, beliefs. In the "real world" this seems to go away. I don't know why, but it's really sad.

Also, in the "real world," you can't just hand the barista your student ID and expect to be handed a latte. That's a sad realization.

I am so happy to be home with my family. I desperately needed the rest of being home. It's been amazing to have alone time, to read FOR FUN, to have my mom do my laundry, and to wake up to my dogs licking my face (it's gross, but it's love.)

Since being home, I've definitely noticed that I am not the same as before. People that I hardly know keep telling me that I've changed, and they can't even begin to understand the extent of the change. I'm quieter. I like to think hard before I say anything because I want what I say to mean something. I'm not afraid of having different opinions than others. I'd rather have a meaningful time alone than a meaningless time with people. 

My perspective of myself has changed. I have a former foundation of who I am and where I'm going now. I'm a compassionate, honest, and ambitious young woman who is being used by God. I have become very self aware. I recognize my faults and my breaking points. I know when I need rest. I seek out the relationships that I feel are lacking in my life.

My perspectives of others have changed too. I've gained more respect for some and lost some respect for others. I've realized that love is the only social skill necessary. :)

My perspective of God has radically changed. I went to Olivet expecting that God would take away all the old problems. I didn't expect that I wouldn't have new problems, but I thought college would be like a magic eraser of the past. That's not how God works. For some people, He does radical life changing miracles and heals immediately. For others, He promises that healing will come in due time. He asks us to trust His timing. Sometimes that timing could mean in a few years, other times it may not be until we get Heaven! I believe that whatever His timing looks like, it's got an epic reason that I am so excited to be a part of.

Change is scary sometimes but I really LIKE this change!!! And yes, you were all correct, college is the best days of your life. I'll give you that one. ;)

Oh! And MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Can we all just take a moment and recognize the extremity of what was done for us the night Jesus was born? God hadn't spoken to His people in 400 years! Have you ever felt like you were out of touch with God? It sucks, right? You doubt His presence, you doubt yourself, you feel abandoned. Imagine 400 years of that. You could go a whole lifetime trying to trust in God when you have never heard Him. But the thing was, even before that, a lot of people weren't hearing from God. The prophets, of course, spoke for God. Some blessed people had visions. But there was no Holy Spirit tugging at your heart or whispering peace into your ear. I don't think people would have understood our concept of a "calling." But then Jesus came and EVERYBODY became capable of speaking with God. He put us all on the same level; He brought equality. Everybody can talk to God now, not just "special" people. This baby gave us the most precious gift in the world: a constant companion, a calling, and a RELATIONSHIP to the God of the universe. 

That's some pretty cool stuff right there, people.

I know this blog post was a little scattered, but I just wanted to share my reflections of Christmas break thus far (I go back in less than a week!! Ahhh!) and wish you all a merry little Christmas and happy New Year. God bless this year for each of you!

Final note: set low resolutions and you'll end 2015 feeling like you accomplished a ton! 

I survived.

I survived my first semester of college. Wow. 

I SURVIVED MY FIRST SEMESTER OF COLLEGE!

WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just finished my last final, and it feels pretty surreal. It's been an emotional week. Lots of reflection on who I was, who I am, where I am, and where I have come. There is a lot to reflect upon.

On August 23rd, 2014, I was so nervous about my freshman year that I threw up. Literally. Puked. Vomited. Barfed. Out of utter fear. I started hyperventilating at the thought of not living with my parents. I was scared of myself: could I function on my own? Could I make my own decisions? I had only memorized my social security number last year!

Now, on December 12th, 2014, I feel like a victor. No, it's definitely not perfect, but I survived. I survived months of college cafeteria food, living in a glorified sardine box, and the papers that never seem to be finished. How did I do? Prayer, amazing friends, and a whole lot of coffee. I have learned so much this semester; I have grown; I have made hard decisions. I am proud of myself.

There's no way to sum up this whole semester in words. I'm excited to go home, but I know 100% that I will miss my life here while I am gone. I think that's a good thing.

I survived...wow.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thankfulness day! I hope yours was full of as much food, family, and fun as mine was.

It's not difficult to list what I'm thankful for today. I am so supremely blessed. I could probably go on for pages, but here are just a few. :)

1) God's presence in my life. Isn't it so comforting to know that God has a perfect plan for our lives? It's been amazing to have that revealed to me piece by piece and day by day. I'm grateful for the times I can feel him working in my life, and that I can trust that He is there when I can't feel him.

2) My Christ-centered home life. There are so many broken homes in this world. I am blessed beyond words that I have grown up in a home that teaches unconditional love, forgiveness, justice, peace, and joy. Who knows where I would be without the amazing decisions my parents made raising me?

3) My health. As much as I inwardly (and sometimes outwardly) complain, it is obvious that my health is so much better than many suffering people. Also, the health issues I do have are improving! There's so much to be thankful for!

4) My considerate and thoughtful family. Today was my first holiday since I was told I could no longer eat gluten. I was a little worried that I wouldn't be able to indulge in my favorites, but they took good care of me. It blessed me so much that they went out of their way to prepare food I could eat. Also, they are just wonderful.

5) Faithful friends. I cherish steadfast friendship. You know who you are. You are amazing.

6) My cousins. Seriously, those girls bring hope and joy into my life in even the darkest moments.

7) My education. This covers a lot of things! First of all, I'm thankful for Olivet, where I can grow academically and spiritually. It is a privilege that I do not take for granted. Secondly, for my teachers. OH MY GOODNESS. I have had some amazing teachers. Each one taught me, helped to shape my world view, and inspired me to pursue a career in education. You are all rock stars.

8) Literacy. This is something I don't think we appreciate enough. I can write this blog and read the billboards I pass as a drive. That's much more than a lot of people in the world. Wow.

9) YOU! Thanks for reading my blog and constantly sending me support as I figure out this whole college thing. I know many of you are praying for me which means so much and WORKS! Keep it up. ;)

Response to Ferguson

THE COLD WITHIN
James Patrick Kinney

Six humans trapped by happenstance
In dark and bitter cold
Each possessed a stick of wood--
Or so the story's told.

Their dying fire in need of logs,
But the first one held hers back,
For, of the faces around the fire,
She noticed one was black.

The next one looked cross the way
Saw one not of his church,
And could not bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.

The third one sat in tattered clothes
He gave his coat a hitch,
Why should his log be put to use
To warm the idle rich?

The rich man just sat back and thought
Of wealth he had in store,
And keeping all that he had earned
From the lazy, shiftless poor.

The black man's face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight,
For he saw in his stick of wood
A chance to spite the white.

And the last man of this forlorn group
Did nought except for gain,
Giving just to those who gave
Was how he played the game,

Their sticks held tight in death's stilled hands
Was proof enough of sin;
They did not die from cold without--
They died from cold within.


I've posted this poem before but I thought it was appropriate in our country and world right now.
Living in the college bubble, I haven't read or watched the news in a few weeks. Coming back to the "real world," I am...appalled. I am not a political expert or a moral prodigy. I'm a college student exploring and questioning everything in life. But I know one thing for certain. Love is the only thing that can fix this world. It isn't courts, it isn't laws, it isn't guns. Love is the ONLY answer. God IS love. God made us to love. All I see right now is the opposite of God: HATE. Hate from white people, hate from black people, hate from poor people, hate from rich people, hate from religious people, hate from people without religion. You know what comes from hate? Death. Like this poem shows. Death of all good things.
I am not going to share my stance on whether this was violence or justice or whatever other opinions are out there. All I am going to say is that this single act is tearing our nation apart. But it doesn't have to!! No, we can't ignore the problems we are having in our world. But do we have to conform to these problems? Absolutely not. "Do not conform to the patterns of this world."
Christians, don't fuel the flames! Don't harbor hate and prejudice.
Just pray and love. That's all God asks of you in this world.
Leave the judgment to God. He will do that on his appointed day.
Your job is to pray and love. That's it.

Martin Luther King Jr. said it plainly: "Hate can not drive out hate. Only love can do that."

Freshman Follies

Imagine this: Your parents drop you off half way across the country in a building where you are required to share a bathroom with twenty other girls. The next day, you are expected to find your French class which is in the English building and your English class which is in the music building and your communications class which is in the science building. You haven't even found an outlet in your dorm yet. Each professor expects that you have studied, annotated, and memorized their extensive syllabus. You still aren't sure you are in the right class. After the rat-race of classes, you are invited to join about 17 trillion clubs, ministries, intermurals, and choirs. Honestly, you'd just like to remember whether you live in room 212 or 220. You reach your dorm room and are so close to sinking into that fresh-out-of-the-plastic mattress pad when you find out that sleep doesn't exist in college. Somehow, it's suddenly 8am and the cup of coffee in your hand is your only life source.

Welcome to freshman year!

This past week I had a few embarrassing freshman moments that included slamming a door into my own face while talking to a "cool upperclassman" and almost slamming a door into Dr. Bowling's, the president of Olivet, face. My embarrassment also reminded me of my first "freshman moment," the first day of classes when I sat in the wrong classroom until they took attendance and I realized I was not taking an advanced diction class this semester. Awkward... I asked some of my friends for their most embarrassing moments on campus thus far. One said she wore her sweater inside-out all day before an older girl came by and told her. Another walked into the boy's bathroom. I think I have been pretty lucky compared to that.

But seriously, being a freshman is weird. You are technically an adult, but you feel like a little kid on campus with all of these "grown-ups." Also, you still call people grown-ups which may be a problem. You start to realize that you don't have to tell anyone when you feel like leaving campus to drive around. You don't even have to go to class if you don't want to. And then, if you are like me, you plunge into a panic attack because you aren't sure you are a responsible enough adult to be responsible for yourself.

I like it though. It's this new, terrifying phase of live, but you get to do it with 800 other people. It's like an awkward, extremely lost, but learning community.

Freshman, we are tough. College is hard, people. Not everyone survives that first semester. Those who do deserve an honorary Olympic medal, in my unbiased opinion.

Comment with some of your "freshman moments" from college. :) Blessings!

A Blessed Break and a Quick Update

This Friday an admissions tour came through Williams and asked to see my room. This happens a lot (because my room is awesome), and I'd eventually like to give these tours, so I, of course, said yes. They looked around, and then the admissions ambassador asked me to share my favorite part of dorm life.
I went completely blank.
I had no answer.
At that moment in time, I couldn't think of a single thing that I enjoyed about dorm life, which is absurd because I love living here.
That's when I realized it was most definitely time for a break.

Lucky for me, I get one! It is fall break here at ONU. Even though I don't get to go home, it will still be a break from the high-paced schedule, the never-ending homework, and the constant social interaction. I will miss everyone, but I am very excited to not have to wait for a shower and to have a room all to myself.

The best part is that my dad is coming to visit me on Monday! I am so excited to see that familiar face with the familiar hugs and familiar jokes (sorry dad, I have heard them all). ;)

I don't have anything particularly witty or inspired to say, but my mom told me people had been asking how I was. So, I am well! I love it here at Olivet. Every day is a confirmation that I am where I'm supposed to be.

I have been going through a bit of a rough patch emotionally. It is a hard task to learn how to manage emotions amidst a nonstop schedule and without the constant support and understanding of my family. But I am trying to be aware of my needs: when I should get more sleep (probably always), when I need alone time, when chocolate is a necessity (definitely always). I especially feel that I need to find a spiritual mentor or partner who can pour into my life. Prayers for God's provision of and for this person or group of people would mean a lot to me.

I am, of course, keeping very busy. The fall play is going well. I am playing Sheila, a cheerful woman with mental disabilities. The role has been both fun and challenging. I'm keeping my grades up to "Hope standards" and learning all about progressive education, literary analysis, and French chansons!

I'm still searching for a church home, so please pray that I see God's direction in this area of my life.

God bless each of you and thank you always for the thoughts and prayers. AND LETTERS! They make my day every time. :)

Anecdotes of Olivet

In the wise words of Anne Shirley, "I'm so glad I live in a world with Octobers!"
Hello and happy October, everyone! Isn't it beautiful? Pumpkin spice, sweaters, bonfires, mmmm.

Anecdote (noun): a short account of a particular incident or event, especially of an interesting or amusing nature

This week, I thought I would just share some stories of my time here at Olivet thus far. I hope you find them "of an interesting and amusing nature." ;)

I Quit

 While I love it here the vast majority of the time, college is very new and very different. It's challenging, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but again, it's CHALLENGING. There have been three days so far that I have been ready to give up, pack my bags, and head home.

The first was a week into school when I realized that I would be eating the Sodexo cafeteria food for the next four years. I crawled into a corner and cried on the phone to my mom. I was so done. I couldn't handle another plate of bland chicken and rice. I was already scrolling Southwest Airlines for a flight home when my floormates and I ordered a gluten free pizza from Monical's. I decided to stick around a little bit longer.
The next was about two weeks ago, when at 4am, a very strange siren entered my dreams followed by a vigorous banging at my door and "fire!!" In the words of Sweet Brown, "I ran outside. Didn't grab my shoes or nothing, Jesus!" Two hundred freshman girls stood outside--barefoot, clad in bathrobes, retainers still in--huddling together. I'm not sure at what point we realized that it was a drill, but oh the wrath of sleep deprived college freshmen! After half an hour of teeth chattering and death threats to whomever was responsible for this wake up call, we went back to our rooms. I flopped on my bed, picked up my phone, and texted my parents to inform them that I was dropping out of Olivet and coming home as soon as humanly possible. It took more than gluten free pizza to bounce back from that.

The last time was Monday, when I found out how to see my grades online. I was so overwhelmed. I cried, "What if this isn't where I'm supposed to be? I thought college was supposed to be fun all the time!" (Don't know who I heard that lie from...) I was so ready to come home this time. Then I imagined myself working for minimum wage the rest of my life. Once again, I decided to stay. Then I decided to add a minor and sign for some more activities. That's one way to handle it...

Go Team

I went to a football game. And cheered. That is all. 

Giving and Receiving
Last month, for some still unfathomable reason, I, Hope Morris, signed up to give blood. The same Hope Morris that told the nurse to give the shot to herself at age 4. The same Hope Morris who hid under the table at the doctor's office until she was 12. This same Hope Morris signed up to give blood.

 Why did I do this? That's a terrific question. Maybe I wanted to save three lives; maybe I wanted a personal triumph over fear; but probably it was just freshman adrenaline, otherwise known as too much coffee. 

I sat behind a curtain and began to fill out the questionnaire. It kept saying all these gross words like "blood" and "plasma" and "veins". That was the first time I almost threw up. I had brought a friend with me, to hold my hand and help me walk back to the room without passing out later. As the nurse stuck me over and over, my friend, Hannah, kept me preoccupied, chattering warmly. Long story short, the nurse couldn't find the vein, I almost threw up again, and all the interns had to observe my reaction (apparently throwing up at the sight of needles is quite a phenomena). While all of this was happening, Hannah held my hand, encouraged me, and gave up her study time to keep me sane. She also realized that I wouldn't be able to eat any of the food they had provided when I finished. So she texted our floormates, who gathered some snacks together and brought them to me. 

While the bruises on my arms and I intend to find a different way of saving three lives and exerting adrenaline next time, this experience was so valuable. I felt people caring for me when they had no obligation; I think that's what friendship looks like.

Life isn't perfect here, but when is life ever perfect? I'm learning, growing, and making memories. I hope you enjoyed these little snippets of life here. I'd love to hear yours too.

God bless and much love!

Changing: first month at Olivet

Today marks one month since I moved into Olivet. I can't believe it has only been a month. I feel like it has been a lifetime.

Today is also the first official day of fall! (YAY)

From the fourth floor of the English building, I can see the very tops of the trees changing leaf by leaf.

I can see myself doing the same. 

Some changes are just little things: giving blood, participating in a color run, cheering on the football team, and exercising. Then there are bigger things: participating in shows, preparing to mentor a high risk high school student, becoming consistent in my prayer and devotional life, and knowing myself.

There have already been ups and downs in one month. I miss my family, but I have begun to call Olivet home. I love my floormates, but sometimes I just really need to be alone. Living with so many other people is a big change. Everything now is a big change. I love it, but it is a lot to take in. 

I don't have much to say today, but I'm very grateful for all of your prayers. These years will shape the rest of my life, and it means the world to me knowing that your prayers are behind me.

God bless and happy fall! (And banned book week)

Hello Fall!!

9/15/14
Today I took a moment from the busiest day probably in the whole history of busy days to read some letters and warm up with some chai. How blessed I feel!! I received three hand written letters today from some of the most loving people I know. It made this crazy day feel so much more bearable (bareable?). This week is. Fall revival here at Olivet and by golly, is it fall!! Today's high is 59 and the low is 45. I had missed sweater weather so much in Houston. However, I have been warned that winter is soon approaching, and it won't be so excited then. For now, I will embrace though and WEAR SCARVES!!!
I'm excited to see what God reveals this week at the revival. I feel that I have been waiting for a long time for a renewal and revival of passion in my soul. Maybe this week is that time. Maybe not. Maybe God is using this time for something else. Whatever the case, I'm excited.
I am also slightly scared out of mind. I am juggling two shows right now, 17 hours plus homework, working a small job, extra chapel services (no complaints though!), and a vibrant social life. Everyday feels like a week within itself. But that's the way I like it. :)
I feel like I am getting into a workable routine and adjusting to this new life. My stress has definitely calmed down. I miss my family especially on the weekends, and I dream of hugging my dogs every night. But I like this little world more and more each day.
Please pray:
That I can juggle everything during the next two weeks of Broadway Revue
That I'm brave enough to give blood this week (it's really important to me, but it is my first time and ahhhhhhhhhhhh)
For my stomach issues. I have been spending too much time nauseated lately.
That I don't get attacked by the creepy squirrels all over campus
For a spiritual revival all over the campus and within my heart.
I love and miss each of you and think of you often.
Seriously, I mean that. :)
P.S. I love letters and packages. So send me some :)
One University Ave.
P.O. Box 7837
Bourbonnais, IL 77084
Or email me! Hkmorris@olivet.edu
Just keep in touch :)

Whoa.

Whoa.

People use this word to describe something grand and fantastic and to demand that a horse slow down.

I mean it both ways.

College is...whoa. So much to take in. I have to force myself to stop for a moment and breathe because otherwise I never will. And when I do stop to breathe, it takes my breath away. I can't believe this is real life.

I can't believe I actually live here now. In Bourbonnais, IL at Olivet Nazarene University in a tiny, eclectic dorm room with a Frozen poster on the door. I can't believe I live and share three showers with about twenty other girls and eat the same cafeteria food everyday. Most of all, I can't believe my parents, brother, dogs, and best friends are seventeen hours away. Whoa.

I also can't believe I am in college. My mind can't wrap around the fact that in four years, I will be getting my teacher's certificate. In four years, all of my classroom idea Pinterest boards will become a reality. In four years, I'll have to figure out where to live, whether or not to continue school, and maybe I'll even be starting a family. WHOA.

My dad always says I was made for college. All the signs point to that being correct: I enjoy and succeed in my classes (though the homework is killing me), I'm staying very involved (just did a color run this morning whaaaaat!), and making lots of friends (The girls on my floor are amazing. It's a great mesh of personalities and too much fun. My roommate and I always keep the door open and music playing. It doesn't make for a great study room, but we are always meeting new people and having fun.) But sometimes I get to the end of the day and say, "I'm not so sure about this whole college thing." It is amazing, but really tiring. I have never depended so much on caffeine for survival before now!!

But I am growing more and more confident every day that this is where God wants me to be. He is blessing me so abundantly! I have auditioned for two shows since I arrived and was cast in both! In the fall play, I was given the female lead role. These past couple of years have been a struggle for me theatrically. I felt like God closed a lot of doors, and I lost a lot of confidence. But God has promised me renewal and success here. It amazes me that He is already fulfilling that promise. Whoa. :)

I ask that you pray for me these things:
Good time management and less stress
Ability to write good papers in a short amount of time
Comfort for my family and me in our time of separation
Better food and wifi
Peace and rest

God bless you. I think of everyone back home in Texas and Oklahoma all the time (probably you are somewhere on my photo wall here). I pray that God is working amazing things in your life like He is mine. Sometimes that masterpiece is in the struggle, but I promise the rewards are coming soon!

Hope

P.S. Please feel more than free to send me things in the mail because getting mail is my favorite thing ever.
My mailing address is:
One University Ave.
P.O. Box #7837
Bourbonnais, IL 60914
I like K-cups (no decaf please), m&m's, and heartfelt letters.

Something Chilly for a Summer Day

I have had so many unforgettable English teachers throughout high school. Each taught me valuable lessons and showed me love.

The first day of my 9th grade year, my English teacher gave each of us a white paper heart. She related to Fahrenheit 451, our summer reading novel, and asked us to imagine a world with no electricity: a world with no entertainment provided by television, radio, or even books.

“What” she inquired, “would you still have with you? What would stay in your heart and mind?”

I spent the whole class period filling my paper heart with poems and stories and songs and verses I had committed to memory.

This is one poem that will stay with me when the lights go out.

The Cold Within

Six humans trapped by happenstance
In bleak and bitter cold.
Each one possessed a stick of wood
Or so the story’s told.

Their dying fire in need of logs
The first man held his back
For of the faces round the fire
He noticed one was black.

The next man looking ‘cross the way
Saw one not of his church
And couldn’t bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.

The third one sat in tattered clothes.
He gave his coat a hitch.
Why should his log be put to use
To warm the idle rich?

The rich man just sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store
And how to keep what he had earned
From the lazy shiftless poor.

The black man’s face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight.
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.

The last man of this forlorn group
Did naught except for gain.
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game.

Their logs held tight in death’s still hands
Was proof of human sin.
They did not die from the cold without
They died from the cold within.

My Thoughts Are Stars I Cannot Fathom Into Constellations

So with all the hype of the movie release of John Green's The Fault In Our Stars, I decided to take the morning to reread that great lagniappe* of a book.

BAH.

BAHHHHHH.

BAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Rereading the book was delightful as I rediscovered the wit, romance, and pain that enchanted me on my first read. I am so excited/anticipatory/pumped/stoked/etc. about the movie release. I bought the soundtrack which is PERFECT. For anyone who doesn't know, there is a chance to a pre-showing of TFIOS on June 5th at select theaters. "The Night Before Our Stars" includes a live screening with actors, directors, and of course, John.

 

"My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations."

This is definitely one of my favorite quotes in the book, because it describes my dilemma with writing perfectly. My mind is full of characters, phrases, and worlds that all have so much potential. Ideas and shadows of dreams fill up notebooks and word documents and margins of notebook paper. What is holding them back from becoming stories? Why won't they connect? I have no trouble forming a coherent essay in school, but without guidelines, I feel trapped in my own imagination.

Sometimes I find that the rules of English and society hinder my writing. I fear a dangling participle as much as a rebuke from an offended reader. I want to talk about Stuff People Don't Talk About, but finding the line between brutal honesty and TMI is really hard sometimes. Plus, it has been drilled in my head for years that a misused comma is bad work, a sentence fragment is meaningless. While I appreciate grammar VERY much, I know it is hurting my writing. I just can’t find the balance.

Many times it seems there just aren’t enough words in human language (at least between the English I know and the bits of Spanish and French I have taken in school). Sometimes I will be writing something that makes perfect sense in my heart, but is nonsense on paper. How will there ever be enough words to describe the torment and ecstasy of a teenage mind? Maybe we should make some new ones.

I feel pity for the ideas in my head that don’t get a voice. I want to give them clarity, but alas, my thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations.

John Green* encouraged young writers by saying this: “Don’t make stuff because you want to make money, it will never make you enough money. Don’t make stuff because you want to get famous because you will never feel famous enough. Make gifts for people and work hard on making those gifts in the hope that those people will notice and like the gifts. Maybe they will notice how hard you worked and maybe they won’t, and if they don’t notice, I know it’s frustrating, but ultimately, that doesn’t change anything because your responsibility is not to the people you’re making the gift for but to the gift itself.”

So self, what do you have to give?

 

 

*A terrifically better word for a gift or benefit.

*Side Note: I do love many many authors besides John Green. Just on a bit of a John-high right now with all the excitement and whatnot. (:

Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo

Behind the Beautiful Forevers, or BTBF as John Green calls it, reminded me of every reason I love literature.

Katherine Boo, an American reporter living in India, spent four years following the happenings of a hardly unusual slum of Mumbai. BTBF is full of the stories and struggles of real people that otherwise would have gone unnoticed.

Highlighted characters are: Abdul, a young man who holds his family’s financial well being on his shoulders as he sorts and collects garbage; Asha, a middle-aged woman with high political aspirations who often uses others as pawns in her schemes; Manju, Asha’s kind-hearted daughter and the only college educated girl in the slum; and Sunil, a young scavenger who watches as his friends fall prey to the vicious and apathetic society of impoverished Mumbai.

Abdul’s family begins the book in relative success. Financially, they are better off than many other slum-dwellers. Their plans to move from the slum to a Muslim-friendly country area are undermined by a jealous and enraged neighbor who commits suicide and blames Abdul and his family for her demise. A long and corrupt trial process begins that destroys the family business, but nurtures a new outlook on life for Abdul. His ethics are transformed,and he begins to believe in his own worth. Abdul’s story is a prime example of how a tragedy can revolutionize a person’s values and mindset. Though these changes do not ease the pain of tragedy, they add value to the struggle.

Meanwhile, the presumptuous Asha treats the tragedies of other slum-dwellers as stepping stones to her own ascension of castes by demanding money from the distressed in exchange for her communication with political associates. When Abdul’s mother refuses to pay for her help, she undermines the family’s court proceedings with her political influence. As the story progresses, however, Asha’s dwindling power leaves her feeling poor and empty. Asha’s story exposes the inward and outward destruction of a greedy heart.

Asha’s daughter, Manju, is a bright and kind young lady referred to many times as the “most-everything girl”. Her mother demands vanity and education in order to obtain an advantageous marriage. Manju is pulled in many directions as she teaches a school, studies, maintains the home, and concedes to her mother’s demands. The lack of liberation and wasted potential of Manju’s conclusion is disappointing, yet life often is.

The youngest of the main characters is the observant scavenger, Sunil, whose one desire in life is to grow bigger and taller than his sister. Sunil’s story shows the tragedies of an impoverished community through the eyes of a child. Sunil witnesses the suicides and murders of many friends and acquaintances that go unnoticed by the rest of the world. Sunil’s story reminds the reader that deaths are not a statistic, but the demolition of someone’s world, thoughts, ideas, and dreams.

This nonfiction book is written vividly and readably. It is as easy to read as any fictional novel, but has the enduring effects of an exposed truth. This story’s call to action for me was a commitment to avoid corrupt charity and social work by keeping my own actions pure. I believe BTBF’s greatest worth comes from its ability to illuminate the lives of those with whom we often thoughtlessly share the Earth. How can we apathetically wallow in our luxury when we read the stories of these impoverished Indian slum-dwellers? What makes us more entitled to liberties and justice than them? We are one Earth. We cannot continue to hide the ugliness of our world behind the painted tiles of our imaginary “beautiful forevers”. That is the purpose of literature: to expose the realities of human suffering on our shared Earth.

Behind the Beautiful Forevers meant a lot to me as a reader. Instead of an average nonfiction book that handed me facts and statistics, it gave me people and emotions. I felt pain for Abdul’s family and yearned with Manju. I cried with Sunil as he lost his friends. I was horrified by the apathy and corruption of the rest of their world.

Near the conclusion of the book, Abdul describes how he longs to be ice, the best version of himself, but finds that time turns him to water, a lower being. He claims that reality must do this to all people. However, I am convinced that letting the ice melt is a choice. I refuse to melt.

I recommend to anyone 13+; some language and disturbing material.

Nawlins Bebe: Spring Break (Literary Nerd Style)

Hey all!

Happy allergy season to you. I hope your spring break was as epic as mine.
Side note: I just rediscovered how much I love to use a thesaurus, so pardon the unnecessarily descriptive words.

This spring break I spent a few days in New Orleans with my good friend, Chelsea. We planned to attend a Tennessee Williams festival, but bollixed* the dates and ended up missing most of it, including a "Stella-a-a-a-a-a!" shouting contest that I was really anticipating. However, I saw oodles* of super interesting stuff which I thought was blog-worthy! So here are my musings of Nawlins and road-tripping in general.

1. Travelling with my friend's family is super dolorous*. Am I allowed to ask to turn the A/C up? What if I need to pee? Can I ask to stop if I feel sick, or should I wait until I can't stand it anymore and puke? The answer to this question, my friends, is NO. Puking in your friends car is one of the most humiliating situations ever...not that I speak from experience or anything.
2. Don't stay at a Holiday Inn! Seriously, there are some awesome historic hotels all over the place for not much more than a standard chain hotel. Think outside the box. The hotel we stayed in was super creepy. We lost half of it our first day.
3. Street performers make the world go round. I LOVE street performers with an intense passion. New Orleans is full of all kinds of street performers. Musicians, artists, magicians, and of course, psychics. Now, I'm not saying that I don't believe in prophesizing, but I do find it difficult to believe that over TWENTY people on one block have "the sight". I have never seen so many tarot cards in my life (which isn't really saying much because I have never before seen tarot cards in my life). Isn't divination supposed to be a rare gift? And how do people decide which psychic to visit? I think people generally just pick the most strangely dressed woman on the street. Personally, if I was going to have my fortune told, I would prefer the middle aged white man wearing khakis. He looked pretty rational.
4. Everything in New Orleans is haunted. Chelsea and I gave ourselves a mini tour of some infamously haunted homes and hotels of the area. There's pretty much a ghost story for every building in the city, but definitely the craziest one was the Lalaurie house. My friend likes American Horror Story, which I guess mentioned it, and had to see it. The lady who used to live there, Delphine Lalaurie, was this insanely murderous socialite who tortured her servants. She would literally leave her parties, walk upstairs, and brutally injure these poor people. After a fire, her house was found full of dead, decapitated bodies of her former slaves.
5. Beignets. Enough said.
6. This place is a literary landmark! The whole French Quarter is full of former homes and hangouts of great authors like Hemingway, Faulkner, and, of course, Tennessee Williams. The best spot is definitely the Hotel Monteleone where even F. Scott Fitzgerald liked to stay. One of only three "literary landmarks" in the US, this hotel is beautifully nostalgic. A famous feature is the elaborate carousel bar that actually spins. We ordered virgin cocktails and imagined our names added to the list of renowned visitors. The best part? A bookcase full of first editions of some of the greatest American novels. I think Chelsea almost cried. 
7. Learn to laugh it off. No road trip is complete without a few brief fiascos. Chelsea is one of my best friends, but avoiding conflict doesn't tend to be our strong point. No matter what craziness happens between you and your friends, just remember that eventually it will be the most hilarious memory ever.
8. Just call a cab. Seriously, my feet are still hurting.

Thanks for reading! Comment with your own road trip thoughts. Have a hunky dory* week!



*Why have I never seen this word before?? I will never say "screwed up" again. Also, it has an X in it. Note taken for future scrabble games.

*I am so happy this is a real word.

*I now understand where Umbridge got her name...

*???

The Truancy Series by Isamu Fukui

Hey friends! I have been writing some little book reviews lately and I wanted to share.
I love this series. I don't think it is half as popular as it should be. Check it out!

I was introduced to the Truancy series by Isamu Fukui in my sophomore year of high school. I’m generally not too interested in action/ninja books, but I read the first book anyways, to impress a boy, of course. Wow, was I surprised! Truancy has unique and exciting plot that distinguishes it from other postmodern teen reads.

The story centers around a country that uses the education system to subconsciously control its citizens. A teenage boy, Tack, becomes aware of the cruel system of the schools and runs away. Along the way, he meets Umasi, a mysterious pacifist who sells lemonade in an abandoned district, and Zyid, the leader of a rebellious force known as the Truancy. The Truancy is made up of truant and expelled students who yearn to end the school’s harsh control over students by fighting the government. Tack joins the Truancy and learns from both Umasi and Zyid, eventually becoming second in command of the Truancy. Tack, however, has a hidden motive. He believes that Zyid’s rebellion is responsible for the death of his sister and vows to take his revenge. Truancy is full of perceptive characters and EPIC fight scenes. The series contains three books: Truancy; Truancy Origins; and Truancy City. Though Truancy Origins is a prequel to Truancy, I definitely recommend reading the books in the order I have listed.

Fukui wrote and published the first book when he was only seventeen years old. Though his writing style may not be perfectly polished, he creates a fascinating plot that keeps the reader on the edge of his seat the entire series. There is a little something for everyone: action, romance, philosophy, and family. Truancy Origins is definitely my favorite of the three, but each one had its own appeal. I love these books because they refuse to let you see the world as black and white. There is no “good guy” and “bad guy”. Each character has right and wrong intentions, and each is fighting for what he or she believes is most important. I recommend this series to anyone who loves The Hunger Games, Divergent, or Ender’s Game. It is not a more popular series, so you may have to special order it from your local library or bookstore. It is well worth the wait though. You will be immediately captivated by the lives of the characters and the ever twisting plot. Just make sure you don’t conspire any mutiny against your principal after reading.

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

Caution tape surrounded the bookshelf. My hands quivered as I reached out for the forbidden book. The air was full of excitement as I opened the cover and began to read. It was banned book month at my local bookstore.

The book I happened to reach for was The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, a riveting classic about a young woman's descent into madness. Though the book is narrated by a girl named Esther Greenwood, it is a well known fact that The Bell Jar is a thinly disguised memoir of Plath's own life. The story begins in glamorous New York City where Esther is working for a fashion magazine. But all that glitters is not gold, as can be seen by the trials Esther faces while in New York. When she returns to her small hometown, Esther begins to lose her grip on reality. She becomes paranoid of innocent occasions, she isolates herself from those who care for her, and she loses her ability to function normally. Eventually, Esther is sent to a mental asylum where a crude doctor gives her shock treatments as a solution to her mental illness. The shock treatments, however, spiral her into a yet worse state causing her to try to end her own insanity. After her attempted suicide, Esther is sent to a more refined mental hospital where she recovers slowly and develops interesting relationships with her doctor and her fellow patients. The book ends rather open-endedly, but those who know the story of Sylvia Plath’s life can make a reasonable assumption to the conclusion.

 Plath writes with a matter-of-fact voice, refusing to sugarcoat details. Her ability to put surreal feelings into words amazes me. There are rare moments in life when someone seems to not only understand completely, but also recapture exact emotions vividly. The Bell Jar is full of moments like this. Additionally, Plath uses a plethora of interesting strategies to tell her story. For instance, the first paragraph of the book opens with an allusion to the Rosenberg execution by electric chair, an ominous foreshadowing of the shock treatments Esther is given in the mental asylum.

This book has continued to resonate with me for months after reading. The Bell Jar is full of unforgettable moments and stellar imagery. I recommend it to anyone who has ever suffered with a mental illness, and to anyone who has ever just felt plain crazy. I would encourage readers under the age of fifteen to wait to read this book as it contains graphic sexual and suicidal content. The Bell Jar is indeed disturbing, earning its place as a formerly banned book. Yet, in my opinion, it is disturbing in the very best of ways.