Response: What, Me Care?

The discussion about the importance of empathy and how it has dropped throughout our fellow man is quite shameful. If people are no longer "understanding" of each other, such as Scientific American suggests, then does that mean we are no better than any other animal? The article "What, Me Care?" describes humans as not the strongest and not the fastest, and if the only thing that distinguishes us from the rest of the animal kingdom dwindles, where are we on that pyramid now?

Scientist, David R. Hamilton, wrote a blog entry about a year ago about the difference between empathy and compassion. Compassion is when you feel FOR a person, and empathy is when you feel WITH a person. Empathy is much more personal in that the person being empathetic understands the other person's feelings and suffers with them. It is not just feeling sorry for someone else, or wishing them the luck to get out of their terrible situation; empathy is going through the pain together with someone else. With that being said, there seems to be a real lack of it in the world today; everyone is fending for themselves, and when it comes to someone suffering, others tend not to care. CBS News demonstrated through a long experiment whether children were born empathetic, or if it was a train that was learned through example. I came to my own conclusion that babies are so pure, that they naturally want the "good" thing, represented in this video by a stuffed animal in a different colored shirt. Other studies show that empathy has gone down 40% by 2000. What has caused the statistics to plummet?

Many believe it's technology that is creating this brick wall between ourselves and those around us. Technology is limiting the actual human contact one may usually have if one were to be left without a computer or telephone for say a week. If that person had no technology, that person would then be forced to go out in public and actually communicate with a bank teller to pay their bills, or go to the store to buy clothes instead of ordering them online. Technology has limited interaction, and therefore people do not feel much empathy toward each other as they used to.

Technology is not bad, and that is my disclaimer. I enjoy technology, as many others surely do, but I do also believe in too much technology. High schools nowadays are trying to incorporate as much technology as they can, but that can only limit the students and make them ill-prepared when confronting potential bosses or clients. Everything must be balanced, and that is basically what Jamil Zaki, author of "What, Me Care?" is trying to portray through the article.

Empathy in Humanity

People usually go out of their way to understand the situation of another somebody else, in a manner to understand and feel for them. This is also known as empathy, a motif seen in "On Compassion" by Barbara Lazear Ascher. In this short story, Ascher brings up and important question in society: Why help others? 

She illustrates multiple examples through the protagonist, a black homeless man, that presents this question through the perspective of that unfortunate position. One example is when the speaker notices that a bread shop owner is constantly giving another man, who is dressed in rags and smells like urine, bread and coffee each time he comes through the door. The narrator questions this kindness and tries to understand the shop keeper's reasoning; is it "Pity? Care? Compassion? Or does she simply want to rid her shop of his troublesome presence?" After further research, I came to the conclusion that when most people give, they expect to receive in the future; this does not necessarily mean that they expect the person they helped to repay them, but usually a person does expect "good karma," or they simply enjoy that feeling of aiding those in need which is considered being repaid in gratitude.

People help those in need because they usually think that if they were ever to need help, they would like others to help them as well, such as the video suggests. 

The other story read in class was "Human Cost" by Jonathan Kozol. This story had a different tone, but still maintained the empathy motif seen in "On Compassion." Throughout this excerpt, illiteracy is the main issue discussed. There are many poverty-stricken families that don't have literate adults to execute important necessities such as paying bills and reading contracts for credit cards or rent. Both authors preach to the reader that there are faults in humanity, and poverty is a main issue seen in both pieces. Those people unfortunately can't usually process human kindness as seen in "On Compassion" when the protagonist didn't know how to accept the dollar donation, or they can't receive that kindness when it is needed such as when the man in "Human Cost" was lost on that one way street and couldn't receive help from an officer over the phone. Both Kozol and Ascher use examples that tug at the audience's heartstrings as to get their individual points across about illiteracy and human kindness, respectively. 

Empathy for humanity isn't only a motif in works of literature, but seen all around. Homelessness is becoming more and more rampant due to the economic collapse, and families are being thrown into the streets. Empathy is required to help our fellow man, and survive. This is the main lesson that both Kozol and Ascher taught me through their works of literature. 

Senior Year

Yesterday, my government class went into the lecture hall and talked about Senior Project. Similarly, I had gone at the end of my junior year, but it all felt surreal that day. Everything up until now seems as if it were a century ago, and I am a mere observant on an innocent mortal's life. Reality, in other words, has not hit me yet about graduating, and when it does, it will knock me out cold.

Senior year is like a herd of wildebeests stampeding toward me, but I feel immobile and too paralyzed to move out of its way.



There used to be days when life was "fun", and honestly, I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a weekend and did something worth a show-and-tell. I understand that some people declare that high school is the best part of a young person's life, but how can anyone enjoy it with so much pressure?! I have to take challenging classes and obtain equally impressive grades, I have to be the first one in my family to go to college and prove my father wrong, I have to get a job and maintain myself, and I have to make the connections to succeed without any help from family members (mostly because they don't know anyone "worth knowing"). High school students have a much higher chance at getting scholarships to enter the big name universities, and since I have no money to my name, I have to take advantage of where I stand. No where in this schedule, is there time to have fun and chill out with friends in a boring plaza in the middle of this boring town. 

Although I have a strict plan, there is that part of me that just doesn't want to grow up and remain nestled in my parents' home. As due dates for Senior project are getting closer and closer, I find myself procrastinating more and more. Instead of searching for scholarships and what college I want to sell my soul to for four years, I begin to reminisce about the simplicity of my childhood and how much I had overlooked everything.



There was once a man who raced into the parking lot of my apartment building, and he seemed to be going "too fast," that was how I thought of it. Of course I know realize that he was trying to avoid the police, who followed close behind my neighbor and quickly arrested him once cornered. I always thought this guy had done something wrong (obviously), but never did I think, "There's a drug dealer living in my apartment building!" I miss the innocence and ignorance that childhood brings. If it isn't events I had overlooked that I'm thinking about, I'm usually trying to capture the creative and imaginative mind I once had. My sister, my aunt (only eight months older than me), and I would play in my aunt's enormous backyard and invent worlds to explore. There were usually made-up realms that we created specifically for the game that we would play. One of the games I remember didn't have a name, but the three of us were trapped in a video game and had to defeat every level filled with monsters and other obstacles to break free. Where did all of that freedom of thought disappear to?

Now that I'm a Senior, I can only look back at my youth as a faint memory, scurrying out quickly out of my grasps. There is also one more thing to look forward to, and although implied previously, I'm going to state it more directly, and that is adulthood. By January I will turn 18, and even though I am Mexican and have passed the Quinceñera requirements, the age of 18 is much more intimidating. Voting for a better tomorrow is in my future, and other adult responsibilities that come with careers or short-term jobs, taxes. I am anxiously waiting for the herd of wildebeests to trample me with reality.

That Dreaded Day

Anxiety ran through my veins late at night; I knew my life was either about to end or begin anew. All I knew was that tomorrow was the first day of high school, and any minuscule mistake could alter my high school experience forever.

7:00 am, and my alarm was silent. Thirty minutes later, my mom walked into my room, rushing me to put on decent clothes for the first day. Suddenly struck awake, I stood quick on my feet only to clash into the floor from the rush of blood into my head. Clothes were thrown everywhere, as if a tornado of Levis and t-shirts had struck my room. I ran into walls blindly, still unable to see from both the luminous lights and the blood rush, and when I drunkenly found the kitchen, I scarfed down my breakfast, not even tasting the delectable pancakes my mother had made that morning so that I could start the year off right. Everyone was waiting for me in the car, and I knew one thing was for sure, I was going to be late. This may sound like a dramatic fourteen year-old just anxious for her first day of high school, but one little detail had been left out, at the time I lived in American Canyon, and the traffic into Napa from my house was never-ending. 

Sitting in that cramped Toyota only drove my crazy, and watching other people in the cars next to us banging their heads into the dashboards out of frustration, didn't exactly calm my nerves, just gave me ideas. After a long thirty minute drive to Silverado Middle School to drop off my sister, I was finally on my way to a brand new school. The car didn't even slow to a stop when I opened the door and jumped out.

By the time I had met up at the spot where my student-leader mentors were supposed to meet my group, only emptiness welcomed me. I had missed them, and they had the schedule I needed for the rest of the school year. This was unknown territory, so I went to the only place I knew could help me, and it was labeled "Student Services." I walked up to the mysterious woman behind a desk too big for her size, and she redirected me to the Lecture Hall. I didn't want to cause more trouble so I nodded and walked out, only to then contemplate with myself which one of the buildings was the Lecture Hall. A woman was on the stage found in the quad, accepting students inside, so I gave it a shot and turns out I was in the right place. 

One could only hope that my troubles would stop there, but unfortunately for me, they had only begun. 8:50 am and I was still sitting in the Lecture Hall, waiting for my schedule. I had finally received my schedule by the time first period was over, and I was off to my second. It is no surprise that I knew no one in Ms. Drew's H. Algebra 2 class. I saw a familiar face from Silverado Middle School and asked if I could sit with her. Her name is Noemi, and she turned out to be one of my very good friends throughout high school. Third period was a blur, but the most memorable class of the day was fourth. This is the part of the day that I got lost. 

Frantically searching for this unknown classroom, I began asking around and only got vague pointing in very general directions. I was stuck in the parking lot behind the school (what would later become the new jock lot), and was stared at by a teacher standing outside of his classroom. I had passed by this room several times in my attempt to find my class, so I worked up the nerve to ask him if that happened to be Biology, and if he was Mr. Fisher. As it turns out, my Biology class was the only trailer hidden, for no other purpose than to cause me misery, behind the school.

Mr. Fisher's hidden classroom was the end of my troubles, after that the rest of the day passed by fairly quickly and for the most part, normally. This was one of the most frustrating days of my life, and certainly the first day of senior year was no walk in the park, but that is a different story for another blog post. This day will eternally be known as "That Dreaded Day."

Response: Blog vs Term and Essayification

Matt Richtel, author of the “Blogs vs. Term Paper” article in The New York Times, talks about the controversial issue of new media and technology, and how it could benefit to aggregate this new form of “learning” into the schools’ current curriculum. With such a drastic change to the strict traditional way of learning, there are always those who find a flaw in a new proposal of gathering information. Blogging is a new form of communication, only recently becoming common in the 90’s. Many English professors and other English majors find this new medium perfect for getting information across with instantaneous feedback. Students who use this new medium, instead of the monotonous essay-format, find it an exhilarating change for the better. Personally, I find blogging as a more productive form of writing in an educational environment. Young people are always classified as impulsive, accompanied by reckless, no matter how intelligent they seem to be. Blogs allows feedback within a few seconds, and gives the whole prompt more meaning by just knowing that someone other than a professor is going to read the essay. Students put more effort into a blog, so as to impress hundreds of people, as a way of satisfying themselves personally, and not just for a grade.

The essay itself is uncertain, and classified as an attempt, very similar to what a blog represents, an uncertain opinion and an attempt to get a point across to a larger audience. “The essayification of everything,” a term used by Christy Wampole means that life itself is a protracted attempt. Essays are short and portable, and uncertain, much like the human mind. Wampole also describes the people as non-thinking before they speak, write, or blog. Blogs, the human mind, and essays all clash together in this aspect, and therefore I find only reasonable that blogging and other forms of technology be taught in schools, of course with a balance of traditional academics. Studies have shown that technology, even just browsing the web in an educational manner, has modified the brain to think in a different way, more impatient. Essays have always been accepted, and now blogs are changing the way essay writing is coming to be. The new technology of blogging is again only expanding the ambiguity of what an essay is defined to be, as it is now not just considered a traditional written form, but has also expanded to new mediums such as video, pictures, and blogging.

I find essays as a blank canvas that the writer can choose if and when their writings are considered essays, and blogs definitely expand that genre. Technologies that adapt to the modern age of digitalization can change the way that the public thinks, and this realm of uncertainty is usually accompanied by critics against those breaking tradition. Balance is key, students should be introduced and familiarized with the technology they will be exposed to in the “real world,” without losing the traditional learnings of literature.

Introducing Me

Hello people of the internet, no I'm not a hilarious cat video, but I do consider myself and an amusing person to talk to. I will further refer to  myself as AF, and this post is mostly going to be me introducing myself to you, the public.

My childhood was not so great. With only 50 dollars to my family's name, it is no mystery as to why. I was quickly accustomed to not asking for anything in the store. No matter how much I may have wanted that chocolate bar, and me being unaware of the financial situation at the time, my mother would simply have to deny me anything that was not a necessity. Close to my middle school years, however, my family made the gamble of buying our own house after years of savings and building up our credit score. Now there was someplace I could truly call home. Unfortunately, that dream was nothing but that, a dream. In the 2008 "little depression," we lost our home and were on the search for somewhere to live before we got evicted. Now we live in Napa, in a small home that we rent; it's nothing compared to our old house, but it's fine, with just enough room for the four of us.

Those were my early years, and although there were many more bumps to that road, they have made me stronger and I appreciate everything I have as a gift. There is, however, more to me than simply my past. I enjoy soccer and used to play as a child, but I have week ankles and before I knew it, my soccer career was over before it had even began. I love to draw traditionally and digitally. The latter I just recently discovered was not only a possibility to cartoonists, but to everyone, of course for a rather large fee. When I'm not wasting my life doing homework, I help my mom around the house, cleaning, cooking, and maintaining the two dogs I have, constantly fighting for all of the attention. My younger sister usually entertains me when I get so bored I start to roll on the floor. I'm not so sure as to how many other people actually enjoy math and science, but I must be one of the selected few. These are my best subjects, and they also fall into my favorites. I have always been relatively advanced in math, and now in high school, I like being challenged with ridiculous math my brain could never imagine.

My family is doing much better financially now; we actually go on vacations every now and then, I got a car for my 17th birthday, and even though we still don't have a house to call our own, it won't be soon before we gamble that again. My grades are fine, I love my parents and my sister, and I have extremely supportive friends who seem like extensions of me at times. The next struggle of my life is now college...and I don't know where I want to go or what I want to study, so with that said, I'll end my blog here because I never know what the future holds, but hopefully I'll figure it out soon.