Oh man, this was tough for me. Why? I don't know. But I asked everyone I knew before I finally came up with my topic. Literally, I was calling people. But after a weekend of topic searching, I narrowed it down to three: breastfeeding, organic gardening, and the obesity epidemic. I made the following list and decided to go with the latter choice, obesity. Note: all topics are what I consider trends, so, for example, a cause for breastfeeding coming out as a trend is the benefits to the child.
1. POSSIBLE TOPICS:
breastfeeding
organic gardening
obesity
2. CAUSES OF TOPICS:
breastfeeding
- benefits for the child
- benefits for the mother
- cost effective
- convenience
organic gardening
- better soil = better food
- recession (growing a garden is a good way to save money)
obesity epidemic
- formula fed babies tend to become obese later in life
- less sleep from stress
- large portions
- high fructose corn syrup
- processed foods
- fast food
3. AND THE WINNER IS...OBESITY.
And so went my brainstorming process. It took a while to get the ball rolling, but came easily once it did. My "causes" of the current obestiy epidemic were thanks to my mother and her reading the New York Times, but I am looking forward to delving deeper!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Brilliant
Sir Ken Robinson made many good points about how children’s creative talents are suppressed by our education systems. He wisely said that schools “mine our minds for a specific commodity.” Unfortunately, creativity is not a hot commodity as far as our schools are concerned. The story about Gillian Lynne and her teachers assuming that her inability to sit still was an illness and not a gift is proof. I also love his comment about how people grow out of creativity, rather than into it. My previous story about my sister Justice and her creative way of thinking made that comment hit home with me. I agree with Sir Robinson that it is sad that kids don’t get the chance to develop the special creative side to them; they are told that those talents will not get them work when they are adults, so they should focus instead on things that will get them a job.
I was fortunate enough to go to a middle school called The School of Technology and Arts, or SOTA. We learned science through art and math through music. We were given the chance to indulge our creative sides. I learned to love the right side of my brain, and use it not only to embrace the artist in me, but to use it to learn. I thrived during my short three years there, and was sad to have to move on to a non-charter high school. But the emphasis my teachers there put on being creative stuck with me, and I am happier for it. I use that side of me everyday: when I get dressed, when I write, when I doodle; as such, I feel like I am less bogged down by everyday hassles that can stress out some of my peers. In sum, Sir Ken Robinson, you are brilliant. (Brilliant and hilarious; I laughed out loud during the whole video.)
I was fortunate enough to go to a middle school called The School of Technology and Arts, or SOTA. We learned science through art and math through music. We were given the chance to indulge our creative sides. I learned to love the right side of my brain, and use it not only to embrace the artist in me, but to use it to learn. I thrived during my short three years there, and was sad to have to move on to a non-charter high school. But the emphasis my teachers there put on being creative stuck with me, and I am happier for it. I use that side of me everyday: when I get dressed, when I write, when I doodle; as such, I feel like I am less bogged down by everyday hassles that can stress out some of my peers. In sum, Sir Ken Robinson, you are brilliant. (Brilliant and hilarious; I laughed out loud during the whole video.)
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Tsk Tsk
The following is a summary of my “rock bottom.” I make a point not to make excuses for the choices I made because they were just that, my choices. I will tell you all like it was and is. I am not proud of what I did, but part of accepting consequences for mistakes you make is knowing that people will never think the same of you. What happened last year will follow me the rest of my life, and I won’t try to hide it, because it made me who I am today.
In November of 2007 I was hired at Macy’s of Onalaska. I only worked there for 3 months, but I stole quite a bit of money from the registers to which I was posted during that time. In April I was charged with Business Theft - Class A misdemeanor, which is one step down from a felony. Had I been charged with a felony it would have meant no financial aid, no voting, and likely no more employment. I was sentenced to a year of probation, 100 hours of community service, to pay restitution (compensation), and to attend a women’s group about criminal thinking. I managed to get a job at a bar in my home town, but apparently, had not learned my lesson. I stole money from the register for about two months, and was confronted by my boss when he noticed that things were not adding up. He made me a deal – I would continue to work for him and his wife under strict supervision, and would have a portion of my paycheck docked every week until he was compensated. I was very grateful for the chance to make things right, and was a model employee from that point on. I made the best Bloody Marys in town, too, which didn’t hurt any. In January of 2009 I got the best news I have ever and likely will ever receive- I was pregnant. Thrilled, I told everybody, including my boss. He was not quite so happy for me. He knew that that meant maternity leave at one point, which meant a break in compensation and, technically, a breach in our little contract. Consequently, I was greeted the next day at work by a county sheriff.
I was arrested on January 23rd and taken to the La Crosse County jail, where I was held without bail for revocation of probation. Someone is revoked when they fail to comply with the terms of their probation. I stole while on probation for stealing, so I was in no uncertain terms, revoked. Besides my revocation, I was charged with 3 counts of Business Theft – Class A Misdemeanor. For those of you counting at home, that makes four total on my record. My sentence given for my revocation (which was considered a separate case) was 60 days in jail. I had already sat for 45 days and was given “good time,” so I was to be released on electronic monitoring after my sentencing for my new charges. Good time, for those who don’t know, is a reduction of your sentence for good behavior when you are sitting for a non-violent crime. My court date for the new charges came, and I was sentenced to 2 years probation, 200 hours community service, counseling, and to pay restitution. The judge also made me eligible for expungement, which meant that if I complied with the terms of my probation and my probation officer okayed it, I would get the new charges cleared off my record (the old one would remain, as well as the fact that I was revoked from probation). So on March 9, 2009, I was let out (and went straight to Burger King). Then on June 4th, my “government issued jewelry,” as my dad called it, was removed.
I am still on probation today, and have undergone a proverbial “180” since my time in orange. Being pregnant and terrified that you messed things up completely will do that to a person. I laid on my narrow cot and cried most of my nights there, when all was quiet after “lights out” and I was left with just my thoughts. Everyone I knew in my life was disappointed in me, as they should be, and I was consumed by questions about my future. How was I going to support my baby? How was I every going to earn back everyone’s trust? How was I ever going to get through this? I had to take a good hard look at the path I was going down, and chose to go running in the opposite direction. I was determined to never be in this situation ever again. In county jail, there are a lot of superstitions surrounding “coming back.” If, while cleaning, the broom touched your feet, you had to spit on it or you’d come back. If you wrote your name on anything there, you’d come back. If you started a book and did not finish it before you were released, you’d come back. Needless to say, I spit on that broom, never wrote my name down, and made damn sure I finished my book. But the biggest reason I have not gone and will never go back is because I have changed fundamentally. My outlook on life is no longer a grim one, and as such my self-destructive behavior is no more.
I learned more than just my lesson in jail. Those girls in Block 4 taught me that you need to make sure you are getting what you want and/or need, and if you upset someone in the process, they get over it. I learned that even when faced with something you think you can’t handle, you get through it every time. And I know now that I am a better me.
In November of 2007 I was hired at Macy’s of Onalaska. I only worked there for 3 months, but I stole quite a bit of money from the registers to which I was posted during that time. In April I was charged with Business Theft - Class A misdemeanor, which is one step down from a felony. Had I been charged with a felony it would have meant no financial aid, no voting, and likely no more employment. I was sentenced to a year of probation, 100 hours of community service, to pay restitution (compensation), and to attend a women’s group about criminal thinking. I managed to get a job at a bar in my home town, but apparently, had not learned my lesson. I stole money from the register for about two months, and was confronted by my boss when he noticed that things were not adding up. He made me a deal – I would continue to work for him and his wife under strict supervision, and would have a portion of my paycheck docked every week until he was compensated. I was very grateful for the chance to make things right, and was a model employee from that point on. I made the best Bloody Marys in town, too, which didn’t hurt any. In January of 2009 I got the best news I have ever and likely will ever receive- I was pregnant. Thrilled, I told everybody, including my boss. He was not quite so happy for me. He knew that that meant maternity leave at one point, which meant a break in compensation and, technically, a breach in our little contract. Consequently, I was greeted the next day at work by a county sheriff.
I was arrested on January 23rd and taken to the La Crosse County jail, where I was held without bail for revocation of probation. Someone is revoked when they fail to comply with the terms of their probation. I stole while on probation for stealing, so I was in no uncertain terms, revoked. Besides my revocation, I was charged with 3 counts of Business Theft – Class A Misdemeanor. For those of you counting at home, that makes four total on my record. My sentence given for my revocation (which was considered a separate case) was 60 days in jail. I had already sat for 45 days and was given “good time,” so I was to be released on electronic monitoring after my sentencing for my new charges. Good time, for those who don’t know, is a reduction of your sentence for good behavior when you are sitting for a non-violent crime. My court date for the new charges came, and I was sentenced to 2 years probation, 200 hours community service, counseling, and to pay restitution. The judge also made me eligible for expungement, which meant that if I complied with the terms of my probation and my probation officer okayed it, I would get the new charges cleared off my record (the old one would remain, as well as the fact that I was revoked from probation). So on March 9, 2009, I was let out (and went straight to Burger King). Then on June 4th, my “government issued jewelry,” as my dad called it, was removed.
I am still on probation today, and have undergone a proverbial “180” since my time in orange. Being pregnant and terrified that you messed things up completely will do that to a person. I laid on my narrow cot and cried most of my nights there, when all was quiet after “lights out” and I was left with just my thoughts. Everyone I knew in my life was disappointed in me, as they should be, and I was consumed by questions about my future. How was I going to support my baby? How was I every going to earn back everyone’s trust? How was I ever going to get through this? I had to take a good hard look at the path I was going down, and chose to go running in the opposite direction. I was determined to never be in this situation ever again. In county jail, there are a lot of superstitions surrounding “coming back.” If, while cleaning, the broom touched your feet, you had to spit on it or you’d come back. If you wrote your name on anything there, you’d come back. If you started a book and did not finish it before you were released, you’d come back. Needless to say, I spit on that broom, never wrote my name down, and made damn sure I finished my book. But the biggest reason I have not gone and will never go back is because I have changed fundamentally. My outlook on life is no longer a grim one, and as such my self-destructive behavior is no more.
I learned more than just my lesson in jail. Those girls in Block 4 taught me that you need to make sure you are getting what you want and/or need, and if you upset someone in the process, they get over it. I learned that even when faced with something you think you can’t handle, you get through it every time. And I know now that I am a better me.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Music, Food, and Safe Sex
This assignment was a tough one for me. I felt overwhelmed when asked, even hypothetically, what I would do to make the world a better place. Where would I even begin? There are diseases that need curing, people that need feeding, and houses that need building. So I thought a lot on it (honest, I did) and realized that I needed to rephrase the question. Making the world a better place was just too much for me to wrap my head around. Instead, I asked myself what things have made my life better. What things that I have experienced or learned would I want to share, because they improved my life in one way or another. Bam- I had it. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you my three wishes.
Magical world changing genie, my first wish is to have music programs in communities. I am a firm believer in creative outlets. They give anyone, young or old, a way to let it all out. A way to express anger, frustration, or sadness. A way to express what makes those individuals just that – individuals. I have fond memories of playing my violin or clarinet. Of singing, and learning to strum a few tunes on a guitar. Playing an instrument always just made me feel better. I could be mad at the world, play a little Vivaldi on my violin, and suddenly things were no longer as terrible as I had thought. I want that for the world. I want everyone to have a way to make things feel better. I want kids to know how great it feels to play in a band, and be a part of something beautiful. How satisfying it can be to nail a passage of music that you thought you would never get down. I wish that all the world could know music.
My second wish, oh magical one, is to have communal gardens in every community. Summers with my mother were always full of the smell of good dirt and the taste of fresh food. Delicious, healthy food. Being able to watch a seed that you plant grow into something you can eat is magic in itself. If people in communities were given land to work, to get some dirt under their nails, they would be the better for it. Neighbors helping neighbors would bring communities closer together, which has its own benefits, like lower crime rates. And people who have the opportunity to eat fresh locally grown foods would learn the benefits they bring, like tastier home cooked meals and healthier bodies. I wish that all the world could know fresh-from-the-garden food.
Now, magical world changing genie, don’t be embarrassed by my last wish, because I realize it’s a little unconventional. I wish that sexual education was taught more readily in communities. Sex is a topic that can make a well spoken and otherwise intelligent adult start to stammer, especially when their audience is their child. I am blessed with a mother who has an open mind, and who knew that the only way she could protect me from sexually transmitted diseases, teenage pregnancy, or AIDs was to talk to me about sex, and often. I grew up hearing “No drinking, no drugs, and if you have sex use two forms of barrier protection and a spermicide!” every time I left the house from the time I was thirteen. My mom knew she could never stop me from having sex, because people are sexual beings and it was bound to happen sooner or later, so she made sure that I knew my stuff. And it worked. I am not one of one third of American adults who has genital herpes. I am not one of the many young people who end up pregnant because they heard from their friends older brother that you can’t get pregnant if the girl is on top because of gravity. I wish that all the world could know how to keep themselves safe when they decide to have sex.
So magical world changing genie, I want a world filled with music, food, and safe sex. Sounds like a better world to me.
Magical world changing genie, my first wish is to have music programs in communities. I am a firm believer in creative outlets. They give anyone, young or old, a way to let it all out. A way to express anger, frustration, or sadness. A way to express what makes those individuals just that – individuals. I have fond memories of playing my violin or clarinet. Of singing, and learning to strum a few tunes on a guitar. Playing an instrument always just made me feel better. I could be mad at the world, play a little Vivaldi on my violin, and suddenly things were no longer as terrible as I had thought. I want that for the world. I want everyone to have a way to make things feel better. I want kids to know how great it feels to play in a band, and be a part of something beautiful. How satisfying it can be to nail a passage of music that you thought you would never get down. I wish that all the world could know music.
My second wish, oh magical one, is to have communal gardens in every community. Summers with my mother were always full of the smell of good dirt and the taste of fresh food. Delicious, healthy food. Being able to watch a seed that you plant grow into something you can eat is magic in itself. If people in communities were given land to work, to get some dirt under their nails, they would be the better for it. Neighbors helping neighbors would bring communities closer together, which has its own benefits, like lower crime rates. And people who have the opportunity to eat fresh locally grown foods would learn the benefits they bring, like tastier home cooked meals and healthier bodies. I wish that all the world could know fresh-from-the-garden food.
Now, magical world changing genie, don’t be embarrassed by my last wish, because I realize it’s a little unconventional. I wish that sexual education was taught more readily in communities. Sex is a topic that can make a well spoken and otherwise intelligent adult start to stammer, especially when their audience is their child. I am blessed with a mother who has an open mind, and who knew that the only way she could protect me from sexually transmitted diseases, teenage pregnancy, or AIDs was to talk to me about sex, and often. I grew up hearing “No drinking, no drugs, and if you have sex use two forms of barrier protection and a spermicide!” every time I left the house from the time I was thirteen. My mom knew she could never stop me from having sex, because people are sexual beings and it was bound to happen sooner or later, so she made sure that I knew my stuff. And it worked. I am not one of one third of American adults who has genital herpes. I am not one of the many young people who end up pregnant because they heard from their friends older brother that you can’t get pregnant if the girl is on top because of gravity. I wish that all the world could know how to keep themselves safe when they decide to have sex.
So magical world changing genie, I want a world filled with music, food, and safe sex. Sounds like a better world to me.
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