August Writers Class of 2020

Summer has ended and the new school year has begun.  We are in the swing of September with Homecoming this weekend and the holidays quickly approaching.

Our Class of 2020 Writers will be featured this year on the blog.  The August Writers have been posted.  There is a batch of 10 writers for the month.

Seniors,

Here is your assignment:

Read ALL ten submissions.  They have been labeled by type, title and author.  Choose any three and leave feedback/comments.  You can choose your favorites, most interesting/fascinating/intriguing or WOW pieces.  In your comments, explain why you have selected the piece.  Don't just say, "Great job" and/or "I really liked it".  Give your reasons.  This is an online discussion board.  You are graded on completion and content.  Your comments must be submitted by September 20 (11:59 PM).

Remember to be respectful, courteous and informative with your comments.

August Writers,

Here is your assignment:

You are not required to leave comments for this month.  You may, and it is encouraged, that you read your page of comments and respond where needed.  If you have the time,  read your peers' submissions and you may comment on their pieces.  Only if you wish.

All,

Have fun with this assignment.  As you know it is ongoing for the year.  We have started off with some great, original, creative pieces that I know you will enjoy.

I will see you in class.  All my love:)

Feed your soul,

Mrs. Solano
xo

https://www.johnearle.co.uk/2018/08/22/office-opening-hours/summer-to-fall/

Melody--Katryna

I lived in a small town by the sea, where you could smell the sweet ocean breeze every
time you went outside. I took long walks along the beach, my bare feet leaving footprints in the sand, an indication that I had been there. And yet, the waves quickly washed them away, leaving no trace of my nightly walks along the shore. It was a peaceful life, a peaceful town, where everyone knew each other and said hello in the streets as they passed each other on their way to wherever they were headed. I frequented our local coffee shop, where the whole town came together to talk about the latest happenings. There was a small stage, where people could sing or play music, but no one ever did. I guess it was the fear of being judged. After all, you would see all of these people again. It’d be best not to embarrass yourself. But, you know? Not taking risks makes life boring. Every day was the same. I suppose I can’t complain. I went to school, talked to the same four people, and got coffee afterwards. I did my homework in the shop, then took my nightly walk on the beach. It was pretty mundane, but that’s how I liked life. Predictable. Safe. I remember the day life stopped being so predictable. It wasn’t anything I did to change my life, but rather, what She did for me. I don’t know where She came from, or how She got here. It was a Monday. I had just left school and was headed to the coffee shop. I got there, took my seat, and

ordered my usual. A caramel macchiato upside down with an add-shot. I pulled out my copy of Wuthering Heights and started reading. I was in the middle of the fourth chapter when I heard a voice. Singing. I don’t know what song it was, or even what language it was in. I looked up, and I saw Her. She had jet black hair, with a tint of blue. Somehow, I got the feeling that it wasn’t dyed, Her eyes were beautiful. They were sea green, and seemed to have the calmness of the ocean. And yet, they had the tiniest hint of danger in them, like a wave that could knock you over at any moment. My eyes caught Her’s, and She smiled. Before I knew it, She had joined me on my nightly walk on the beach. Her bare feet stepped so softly into the sand, yet not even the roughest wave could remove the mark she had made. She was beautiful, strong, mysterious, and I wanted her. Lost in my thoughts, She took my hand, and ran Her fingers over mine, never fully gripping it, but playing a game. She let go, letting my hand fall, and laughed. Her laugh sounded like music. “What’s your name?” I asked Her. “Melody,” she said. Life continued on like this, with Melody joining me on my nightly walks and singing to me as I did my homework. My grades began to suffer, but I didn’t care. My mind was occupied with only one thing. And that was Melody. One night on the beach, She sat by the water, gazing at the moonlight’s reflection. “Come here,” She sang. And I came. She looked up, as a flock of birds flew past. She watched the birds, looking as if she longed to be flying with them. “If only we could fly,” I said to Her. “But, alas,” She said in response, “it’s impossible. We can never be as free as them.” With this poetic statement, She stood up and walked into the water. She laughed and said, “Come on! What are you waiting for?” I followed Her into the sea. Once we were wading waist deep in the ocean, She pulled me into her arms. She was warm, despite the cold of the sea. She continued to walk, deeper and deeper, into the sea. “Melody,” I said, or at least, I tried to. As I opened my

mouth, it filled with water, heading into my throat. She laughed, that musical laugh. As I sunk deeper and deeper into the sea, She laughed and laughed, and I realized that Her song meant death. And now I write this warning, from my watery grave: Beware the Sirens, for They will lure you in with Their song, and promises of love, for They will kill you, but do so beauti-

What’s Love Got To Do With It?--Kezia

Love. A word that seems so straightforward to say, yet so tough to explain as a concept. What exactly is this “warm squishiness” feeling inside, and why can we feel love differently, for let’s say, a family member versus a significant other? A Harvard Gazette article covered a study where over 6,600 pages of search results appeared in a database just for the word “love”. This led the National Institutes of Health (NIH) to conduct 18 clinical trials to uncover the “layered meanings”. Through the studies, the Institute discovered that though “ not normally considered an intestinal ailment, love is often described as an illness, and the smitten as lovesick.” Love has the ability to control our mind and body by increasing the neurotransmitter dopamine to the brain. Dopamine helps regulate emotional responses, often times correlating with the feeling of sudden happiness. So, the “high” one feels after seeing someone special is merely a chemical reaction in response to their body’s idea of pleasure. This feeling attracts us to the same people who emit it. Though, Richard Schwartz , associate professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School (HMS) and a consultant to McLean and Massachusetts General (MGH) hospitals, claims that there are different phases of love that contribute to a person’s overall feeling towards someone. Serotonin, another neurotransmitter responsible for regulating happiness in one’s body, is said to be accountable for the “crazy” and “obsessive” feelings in the beginning of a relationship. As the relationship grows, so does the levels of oxytocin, a neurotransmitter that stimulates a milder

feeling of love. Schwartz claims that high levels of oxytocin “helps cement bonds, raise immune function, and begin to confer the health benefits of the two”. Although not recognized as one, love can seem like a drug to one experiencing all the varying neurotransmitters’ effects on the mind and body.
When writer Aditi Nair asked 10 people what love meant to them, the answers varied from those in a relationship to those who are single. Couples who have been together for a year or more claimed love is patience and equality, essentially the idea of learning to accept the other’s flaws. The single participants answered that love to them was merely respect and security, which they could find in friends and family. I then began to ponder the true attributes of love and what differentiates Eros, romantic love, from Philia, affectionate love. The ancient Greeks studied the idea of love and attempted to classify them into eight different types based on the relationship. Eros, although passionate, was deemed a dangerous form of love, often forcing the person to act impulsively in the name of desire. Those in a romantic relationship are undergoing Eros and the idea of physical, passionate love. The different love one feels towards friends and/or family is classified as Philia love. Unlike Eros, which the Greeks considered as fiery love, Philia represents the affection between “equals” and beings who are close. Philia works by being a form of “platonic” love, or love without sexual desire, thus describing the relationship between family and friends.
Although love is often connected with the idea of intimacy, the Greeks proved that there are different forms of love for each situation. Famous philosopher, Plato, asserted that physical attraction doesn’t always have to be a requirement when feeling love. The same neurotransmitters that deliver the feeling of happiness when in contact with a partner is the

equivalent to the feeling of safety we feel around the ones we love. For, the denotative definition of love is the “intense feeling of deep affection,” which I believe we, as humans, require to truly experience and enjoy life. 

Powell, Alvin. “Scientists Find a Few Surprises in Their Study of Love.” Harvard Gazette , Harvard Gazette, 23 Jan. 2019, news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2018/02/scientists-find-a-few-surprises-in-their-study-of-lo ve/.
Morgan, Carol. “Learn the Different Types of Love (and Better Understand Your Partner).” Lifehack , Lifehack, 7 Nov. 2018, www.lifehack.org/816195/types-of-love.

Values--Diego

Value is the amount of importance or relevance that anything can have on a person. In past times, and still to this day, the differing values of two people or groups of people has caused a division. War, violence, discrimination. All of these gruesome instances of mankind’s hatred for itself can all be traced back to a difference in values. Unfortunately, mankind is doomed to face this reality head on because no individual can change the complex emotions, conscious, morality and values that every human being holds true to be their own. It is because of this that these showings of grotesque evil are inevitable, unless humanity builds more values. They must prove that they are not just bumbling apes waging war over chunks of the earth.

Value for human life, human health, and human connections may be the missing pieces to solve this puzzle of establishing importance. Perhaps if there was no difference in values, beliefs, opinions and genetics then maybe humanity would have some chance at surviving. The cost of common values and tranquility is creativity. Seven billion robotic sentients looking the same, thinking the same, and growing in unison yet they will lack what makes them human. The divergences of opinion do, indeed, cause great pain for the human race, but for what this concept lacks in safety, it makes up for by giving humanity a soul. The most relevant art, literature, and historical figures are the ones that were not bound by the societal standards of their time but they made their era their own.

Untitled--Alec

July 15, 2017, my brothers 18th birthday. We knew something tragic was coming but did
not know when... Throughout life, we as humans face adversity on a day-to-day basis. It could be from the biggest things like death or the littlest things like getting up early in the morning. Over the years, I have dealt with difficulties and adversity and have learned how to deal with them. A lesson in my life that I have learned from was the loss of my Grammy. 

My Grammy, like any other grandmother, loved and cherished all her grandchildren. She was a loving and generous soul and whenever you needed someone, she was always there by your side. When I was little, my grammy had a stroke that caused her whole left side of her body to be paralyzed. At the time, Doctors had said she wouldn't make it but my grammy was a fighter and made it through. As the years went on, I became immune to her being paralyzed and never thought anything of it. Freshman year, my grammy had moved in with us because she had lost her home in bellflower. During those 6 months I started to hold a grudge against her because she was occupying my room and caused me and my brother to share a room, causing us to get into several fights over the situation. With my grammy living with us, it caused a lot of drama between me and my brother, my parents, and my dad and his brothers. Later on that year, she and my uncle had moved in together in Fontana. One day I was in a bad mood and had to take my grammy to her apatarment. When we got there, I was so mad that I just said by in the car and did

not bother to take her up to her apartment and say goodbye there. On June 29, 2017 I was about to go to sleep as I had just completed an all nighter. It was about 9:00 am and I had started to doze off, when all of a sudden I was awoken by my mom coming home early. I knew something was wrong because my mom never comes home early from work, let alone miss a day. My mom came into my room asking me if I wanted to go to the hospital with her and my brother because my Grammy had just had her 2nd stroke. I didn’t know how to feel about it, but because I was tired, I made the wrong decision of not going. As they were leaving I said a quick prayer to God to just protect our family and keep us uplifted. For two weeks my Grammy was in a coma and on life support. After a week and a half, my dad and his brothers decided to take her off of life support and the feeding tube. On July 15, 2017 we had received a call from my dad saying my Grammy had passed away. At that point, all I felt was closure. My Grammy didn’t have to suffer anymore and she was able to live her life in peace and immortality.

In life, as humans we sometimes allow our emotions to take control of our mindsets and make decisions that we are not incoherent of. Why do we make decisions based off of temporary feelings? Why do we allow for our emotions to lead us to a mindset that is not healthy for us or others? Is it because we as humans are not in touch in our emotions or in control of them. Is it because were so caught up in the moment to where we forget to think and make wise decisions instead of possibly making a permentnet one. Sometimes I think back to those days where I could have just walked my grammy up to her apartment and said goodbye not knowing that was going to be my last time seeing her up and functioning. Sometimes I wish I would've just got my tired self up to go to the hospital with my mom when she woke me up. I'm not regretful of my decision. Instead, I'm more grateful because now I'm more in touch with my

emotions and still make decisions off them, but I try to think ahead and think about what will happen if I make this decision. Now I think about the future when I make choices.

With death comes growth. With me being able to turn a touchy situation into an inspiring experience is something a lot of people aren't able to do. My grammy passing has
allowed me to mature and be more of a go getter. Now that I know I have my guardian angel beside me at all times, I now believe in myself that I can do anything that I put my mind to. The past couple of years have not been easy but it's been a life changing and lesson learning experience. It sucks that sometimes we have to lose our loved ones in order to learn a lesson or to brighten our perspectives of things. But as time goes on we should all prosper and soar and become better individuals, and that was one of the hidden messages behind my grammy passing. I am forever thankful for the time me and her shared together on this earth and I know one day we will meet again. Adversity is something challenging to overcome. But challenges makes us become better individuals and allows for us to gain a new view on things. Sometimes it takes hurtful things to happen in order for us to understand what we might be going through. Challenges is something we all have to deal with and something we are all going to face one day. It's not how you start, it's how you finish.

What It Means To Be “Human.”--Danica

Human. Noun. Scientific term: “Homo sapiens.” Definition: “A bipedal primate mammal.”

Human. Adjective. Definition: “A characteristic of people as opposed to deities, animals, or machines, especially in being susceptible to weakness.” Synonym: “Imperfect.”
This is the dictionary definition of the word human. These few words are apparently what it takes to define the lives we live as the “bipedal primate mammals” that we are. But what does it truly mean to be “human”? Is it purely just waiting for each day to turn to night? Or is it something more complex than what a simple dictionary definition can describe?
The definition of a human could possibly never be explained in a simple sentence or even in a 10 page essay. This is simply because humans are individual complex beings. They aren’t a word. They aren’t a definition that you could just search on the internet. They aren’t the labels that they give themselves or the names that they are given by others. But somehow, we can all relate our journeys in one way or another due to what we experience in life, thus making us human.
One of these ways is that being human is also being inevitably imperfect. These flaws that we contain either within ourselves or in our vessels are what contributes to the meaning of being human. It forces ourselves to be critical of who we are. It allows us to find what pieces to keep, and the others that we need to reform to be better people. Each piece is different for everyone and this leads to differences among individuals within the population.
In this world of ours, we are trained to think that differences are evil. That differences could pose a threat to the balance of the world. When in reality, they keep this world intact. If everyone was the same, Earth would be a monochrome picture on an old television. We are a symphony of a disarray of colors. None of us are created perfectly and similarly. We’re all the same, just in different ways. That’s what I believe makes this world so interesting. It’s like reading books of multiple kinds of genres, authors, and times. Each person holds a story. And each story is worth reading. You know what they say, “you can’t judge a book by its cover.”
The emotions that we experience also make us human. Unlike many other organisms in the world that we live in, human beings have been fortunately granted the gift of sentience, but that also comes with the great emotional impacts that this provides. Emotions create who we are, such as contributing to the personality of each person in the world. Not only does it affect someone’s entire persona, but other’s lives as well. Being highly sentimental beings, humans are susceptible to experiencing emotions such as trauma, love, anger and so on due to other human beings around them.

Being imperfect, being flawed, being emotional, being loved, sad, hated, praised, unappreciated, feeling hope, serenity, and so on and so forth are all what it means to be human. Experiencing life’s ups and downs and u-turns, is something that although may be painful at times, should be appreciated as it created and influenced every part of who you are.
But maybe you disagree with every word I’ve said so far and that is entirely valid.
Because part of your journey as a “bipedal primate mammal” is to find your very own meaning of what it means to be human.

How to Play the Saxophone--Christian

When people think of the saxophone, many will refer to its origins as an essential
instrument used in many jazz songs. Learning how to play jazz music and learning how to play the saxophone go hand in hand in that you can not learn one and not the other. I began playing music in the 5th grade in the Solorio band program where I began to learn the basic skills of following a cadence and controlling tone on a kazoo. Although this step is not technically necessary, it lays the groundwork for playing on a constant cadence without speeding up or slowing down in order to keep a song’s tempo in rhythm while also maintaining the quality of sound as well. This process works because as you get used to how the kazoo reacts when you play a certain way, you’ll be able to recognize the do’s and dont’s of playing an instrument and will be able to adjust accordingly; for example, when blowing as hard as possible the noise is much louder and audible at the expense of the noise quality while blowing softly might not make a musical note at all. In order to formally begin playing, you must first prep your saxophone of choice with a reed fitting of your skill level with softer reeds being for beginners and harder reeds being for veterans. After you find the reed that is right for you, you will need to make sure your saxophone is in tune by adjusting how far or close your mouthpiece is on to your saxophone; this process will require a tuner or tuner app and the playing of a musical note, if your note is playing too sharp adjust the mouthpiece by pulling it back a little bit until the note is playing regular. Meanwhile, if your note is playing too flat, adjust the mouthpiece by pushing it on the cork further until the note plays without showing a sharp or flat symbol on the tuner app,

if your saxophone is unable to be tuned, it is likely due to an air leak, a bent octave pin, or a deformed bell. After you have set up your saxophone successfully, the first step is to tuck your lower lip under the tip of the mouthpiece while gently keeping your tongue on the reed. This step is important because without the proper lip and tongue placement, not only will the stress on your throat and jaw be severe causing soreness, but the saxophone will produce an airy gag noise which can be heard by a skilled musician which occurs when you push air out using only your throat. The next step is to have proper back posture with your chest puffed out while gently resting the saxophone on the side of your leg and saxophone. Posture is important because the sound will be of much higher quality due to the amount of air and control of air you can exert from a puffed chest position and will allow for more notes to be consecutively played without the need of having to breathe constantly. Before you can begin to play notes, you will need to wet the reed to keep the quality of the notes consistent, and will need to be somewhat damp throughout your process of playing otherwise it will lead to notes playing very flat and out of tune. There are two clefs, one being bass and the other being treble, but all saxophones are played in treble clef thus meaning the music sheet songs you can play must be in treble clef. Treble clef is played in a higher octave when compared to the bass clef and when playing the notes in order, the treble clef is naturally higher than the bass clef. An A note in treble clef does not sound the same as an A note in the bass clef and confusing the two will lead to your music not having any flow; constantly jumping from deep notes to high notes will cause your saxophone to squeak obnoxiously due to the bad transitioning of one note to the next. After you begin to play and your notes begin to flow while remaining in tune, the quality of your music will now depend on only you; after the saxophone is prepped properly and you are sitting properly, the sounds your saxophone makes will depend solely on your ability.

How to Make Banana Bread--Christine

Banana bread is one of the easiest and tastiest desserts to make at home! The ingredients can be found in any household or local grocery store, and the instructions are not difficult to follow. It is so simple that I have been making banana bread with my aunt and mom since I was young. My aunt made it for every family occasion, whether for a large party or just when I come over to visit. To me, banana bread meant spending time with my family. I loved it so much that she shared the recipe with my mom, and we would bake together all the time. Baking brought me closer to my mom than anything else. The best part would be after the bread is done baking with the sweet aroma of banana filling the house, and we sat together with warm slices in hand to enjoy each other’s company. Since then, I have modified the recipe to create a lighter and fluffier texture that more resembles a cake, and my family said that it was better than when my mom made it (She playfully threatened to never cook for them again!). With that in mind, please follow all directions and tips carefully. If you try this at home, bake it with your family, friends, or significant other. You’re bound to make sweet memories!

(The below pictures show my banana bread that I baked last weekend. If this doesn’t convince you, ask Mrs. Solano about how tasty it is!) 

Preparation and Ingredients
You will need a large mixing bowl, another large bowl, a microwave-safe bowl, a hand mixer, a 9 by 13 inch cake pan, and parchment paper. A hand mixer is recommended because it will create smoother texture for the batter and is easier to handle than a standing mixer. Measuring cups and spoons are also required, but make sure to use the correct ones for dry (left) and wet, or liquid, ingredients (right). Each type of measuring cup is designed to accurately measure

their ingredients. The measuring spoons can be used for both dry and wet ingredients. The last point about measuring is that dry ingredients are meant to be levelled with a butter knife and never packed into the cup. 

The ingredients are as follows:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
  
• 1 tsp salt
  
• 1 tsp baking soda
  
• 1 tsp baking powder
  

• 1⁄2 tsp ground cinnamon
  
• 2 large eggs
  
• 11⁄2cupswhitesugar
  
• 1⁄2 cup melted butter
  
• 1⁄4 cup 2% or whole milk
  
• 1tspvanillaextract
  
• 3 large very ripe bananas
  Bananas are the most important ingredient, so make sure your bananas are very ripe or else the bread will not have the desired sweetness and flavor. You must purchase bananas from the grocery store in advance and wait for them to ripen. Wait until there are brown spots, and it is a soft to the touch. This will take about five to seven days. It will not look yellow, but that’s okay!
  Directions
  

Note: Most of the steps are based on a baking technique called aeration. Aeration is the incorporation of air into ingredients in order to create more volume and produce a lighter texture. So, please carefully follow all directions, especially the mixing process. 

Preheat the oven to 325°F. 

Use a sieve to sift the flour, salt, baking soda, baking powder, and cinnamon together into the large bowl (not the mixing bowl yet). Never use a spoon or your hand to force the ingredients through the sieve. Hit the side of it with the palm of your hand. To properly measure flour, you need to aerate it because you can end up with more flour than necessary. Do this by scooping the flour multiple times with a spoon, like mixing a salad. Then, use the spoon to scoop the flour into the measuring cup, and level it out with a knife.
In the large mixing bowl, mix the eggs with the hand mixer. Slowly pour in the sugar, waiting for it to be fully incorporated until pouring more. This does not mean the hand mixer needs to be at a slow setting but rather this patient technique allows the ingredients to combine evenly.

Melt the butter in the microwave-safe bowl for 30 seconds. Don’t heat it for too long because you’ll have to wait longer for the butter to cool down before mixing everything. Stir it until it is all melted. Stir in milk and vanilla extract. It is okay if it separates a little but wait for it cool down before moving on. Pour this mixture into the egg and sugar mixture. Again, pour and mix slowly. 

Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture, still pouring and mixing slowly.
Puree the bananas with the hand mixer. Make sure to do this step last because the banana puree will turn brown if you leave it out. Also, you should be able to mix it right away without cutting it into pieces. If not, then your bananas aren’t ripe enough! Then, add the bananas to the mixture and for the last time... pour and mix slowly! 

Prepare your cake pan by using a non-stick cooking spray to line the inside. Don’t forget the sides! If you don’t have any, use a paper towel with just enough oil or melted butter to line the pan. Then, line the pan with parchment paper. This will eliminate the crust and create a better texture on the edges and corners of the bread because the bread is not in direct contact with the metal of the pan. It will also be easier to remove the bread from the pan after baking.

Pour the batter into the pan, making sure that the paper is still underneath. Tap the bottom of the pan onto the counter to get rid of any air bubbles; they will create air pockets within the bread, and we do not want inconsistencies in texture. 

Carefully place the pan onto the center rack of the oven. Wear oven mitts if needed to prevent burning your hand.
Bake for about 45 to 60 minutes or until the top is brown. Check to see if the bread is done by using a toothpick to poke through the center of the bread. If the toothpick comes out dry, then the bread is done.
After taking it out of the oven, do not leave the bread in the pan for too long because it will continue to cook because of the hot pan. On the bright side, you can enjoy it while it is still warm! Another great part about banana bread is that it is as delicious straight from the oven as it is the next day or the day after that! 

Food for Thought 

Baking goes beyond just a cooked mixture of flour and sugar. Enjoying something that you created with your own two hands is fulfilling, and what is more rewarding than a sweet treat? Memories. It’s making someone smile when you give them a piece that they never asked for but received because you simply thought of them. It’s laughing about how much flour is on your face and their clothes, and you’ll both still be laughing about it tomorrow or next week or next year. It’s people asking for you to make it again and again, and you wholeheartedly do it again and again because it brings you closer together. It’s the wish of simple happiness for others that you cannot fully convey through words but still want them to know and feel because we forget that when life gets hard. With that in mind, go out into world with a bright smile. A single star stands out against a dark sky but a sky full of stars is reflected in the eyes.

A Reflection of Western Heritage--Joseph

Inside one of the various classrooms on a regular high school campus lies a question unheard of to the students inside: How did this happen? Not how was the school produced or what are the prefaces that led to the students’ placements into that class, but rather the larger idea behind those questions: How did this happen? The historian would answer by explaining how reform-minded people had influenced voters and the government to instill public education, while the philosopher would answer that the students yearned to search for an even greater purpose within the boundaries of the school and the students would still be in question. The answer is in both of these reasons, yet neither one sufficiently explains the true answer behind such a question. For this answer is based on a platform completely foreign to those students. This answer is sewn through the fabric of history and has come to dominate the present culture that the students participate in. This answer can be described so simply yet represent the most complex of examples. This answer does not only explain the formation of the school and its inhabitants but everything and everyone elsewhere around the world. The answer is that the citizens of the world value education. Yet why do people value this abstract idea which provided such concrete results? The reason is that we all have been constructed to think in accordance with our Western culture and mindset.

In fact, almost every person’s mindset in the world has resulted from the West’s cultural upbringing and eventual world influence. Western culture commands all activities in the world through the controlling of people’s mindset. Yet while an idea that appears to be so authoritarian in its nature, it has produced such beneficial results in the process. This is visible through the rebirth of democracy, the gradual emergence of women's rights, and many other characteristics that seem to be only prevalent in Western-minded countries. But what might be considered a positive result in the minds of those aligned with Western values could also be considered negative in others, even with those who align with Western values. Western culture as its effects are confusing, yet that is where its true beauty lies. This complex idea that can’t really be defined is the main source of problems in the world because it starts amongst us, humans. 
 
The best definition that partially clarifies what Western culture means is the clash of different cultures and ideas that leads to the problems we see today. This was first observed during the birth of modern Western culture, during the Renaissance. The seeds of Greek and Roman philosophy had sewn a blooming flower of a breed never before seen: skepticism. Granted the people of the era lived during a time of little technological advances, their investigation into ancient ideas and philosophies had fertilized their minds towards a curiosity of solving problems and exploration of unknown intellect. This eventually segways into the first clash of culture and ideas. known as the Reformation, taking hold after such skepticism was reproduced towards a different subject. This first clash of ideas set the premise for all other clashes on the future: both clashing parties see a different goal in mind to achieve a more utopian ideal. Upon Martin Luther’s revelation of the Catholic church’s wrongdoing, his ideals clashed with that of the church creating a whole new denomination and thus establishing two different

idealistic views of faith. Yet faith is no longer the only subject that this applies to, which is why our world is so complex, each relaying back to the idea that our mindsets are based upon flashing ideas in an attempt to find an idealistic solution. This describes why Western culture is often viewed as extremely problematic. Yet the idea behind Western culture is brilliant because it helps bring humanity together despite these clashes, which are ultimately based upon our human imperfections.

Altogether, Western culture and its effects are complicated to interpret, yet is best described by the clashing of different ideas and cultures to solve worldly problems based upon human imperfection. This is best visible through historical examples and relationships that relate to Western culture’s modern birth and complexity, proving its inability to be defined. Despite its inability to be defined, it continues to be a topic worthy of debate amongst people for its creations of problems within modern society. Yet such a yearning debate promotes a question worthy of the limelight: Will humanity ever be able to solve its problems if the way we interact with one another is based upon flaws? Maybe not, but now it is known why.

The Life of a Refugee--Ethan

The baby cries. It’s hungry. Again. My wife looks over with that look. The look that says,
“Where do we go? What do we do? What do we eat?” These are the questions that constantly plague our days now. We decide to settle down on a street corner. Musty smell of cigarette smoke. The concrete is wet. Nothing new to us now. Throngs of people pass us. I dare look up to meet a gaze. Rejection. I make another silent plea for help. I’m met with coldness. On they go. Off to their churches to learn again how to “do a good deed”. Off to their projects to get in their act of service for the week. On they go, rushing this way and that way. Jobs. Meetings. Appointments. They never stop. On they go, never looking down to see us. To see who we are and where we’ve come from. To see not only our eyes, but what’s behind them. I snap back to reality as my baby screams louder. I look at her, and then to the throngs passing by. Nothing. No glance, no look of pity. I grab her from my wife’s trembling hands. I hold her tight. The only thing I feel that I can hold onto anymore. I shift my baby onto my side, and then grab my wife’s hands. I grip tight and steady her. She looks at me, tears in her eyes. Again. I’m strong. I will not cry, neither will I break. For if I do, my wife breaks with me.
This is my life. The life of a refugee. 

I wake up. My head hurts. My body aches. I blink to adjust my eyes. I can see lights in the darkness. There are much less people now. A few stragglers here and there, but nothing compared to the masses last night, just a few hours ago. I look down. My wife is cradling my baby, both asleep. She must have grabbed her before dozing off. I check the surroundings. Assured that all is calm for the moment, I lay my head down on the cold, hard ground. Just for a moment...

I’m awake. Something’s wrong. How long was I out? I blink rapidly. The sun’s out. I can feel it before I see it. I focus on my wife. She’s nervously looking up. My baby is silent. I look up. There’s a man a few feet away. He steps closer, and he’s saying something, but I don’t understand. He reaches into his coat pocket. I recoil slightly and begin to pull my family close. I expect a knife. Or maybe a gun. In those few seconds, my mind flashes to home. True home. The home that is even now being torn apart by anger and cruelty. In the midst of these thoughts, the intruder finds what he’s been searching for in his pocket. In a glance, I see the bright colors of Euros clasped in his outstretched hand. I look up into his face. No rejection. No coldness. Instead, I see kindness. I see the face of one who loves. My eyes fill with tears. I let out a choked thank you, and take the money. He doesn’t seem to understand my words, but I know he can see my face. He smiles and then walks away. Throngs of people now pass again. They don’t see him. No one notices. But we notice him and we see him. My heart swells. With love? Yes. But what’s this other feeling? Peace? No, my life is just as hectic as before. Then what is it? I struggle to find the word for this feeling. It’s familiar, yet I realize I haven’t felt this in a long time. Then I look at my wife. She’s smiling, cradling my still very new daughter in her hands. It’s then that I realize what this feeling is. 

Hope.

Untitled--Nikki

When we are around six years old we learn how to ride a bike for the first time. At six
years old, there is nothing in this world that has higher accomplishment than being on a small bike, riding down the bumps of the sidewalk, while parents and friends cheer for you. When I first learned how to ride a bike without training wheels I thought there was nothing else in this world that mattered, and at the time, there wasn’t. It was the first time I felt balanced. The world wasn’t tilting to one side, dragging its victims to the ground. When you first learn how to ride a bike, you think about all the places you can go, but as a child all I wanted to do was ride down the hill. The hill by my house has a turn at the bottom of it, the blindness of what is beyond the curve of the street never fazed me as a child. The mystery of it all never intrigued me nor scared me. It was just the idea of coming down and feeling the wind brush my skin that evoked the excitement in me. As the gravity pulled the wheels downwards, I could only hear the shouts of the people around me. What I thought her shouts of excitement, I later realized were shouts of fear as the small blue corolla whipped around the corner. Even the wind whistling in my ears could not muffle the squeak of the breaks from the car skidding away from hitting the small child in the middle of the street. The hilarity of the situation lies in the fact that I was not crippled with fear from almost hitting the headlights. It was easy for me to make sense of the situation and move to the sidewalk, even as a small child.
I never stopped riding my bike in the middle of the street. But I still look back on events like this in my life and wonder what would have been. The serenity of laying silent on a windshield, never losing the innocence of what I once had. Obviously it is not a wish, rather

more of a ponder. Why would I want to peak beyond the turn, ever again? Why did not knowing whether a car was coming or not almost excite me? Was I not born to fear death the way others do? Or simply do I just want to believe that no matter what decision I make, I will be safe no matter what the risks entail.

As I got older, I learned that I could do tricks down the hill. Hands tied behind my back, standing on my pedals making the seat useless. As I went down the hill, I would listen for the smallest whisper of an engine to determine whether I move out the way or make the dangerous turn. It was almost a game of chicken that I played with myself. When I put my hands back onto the handle bars, I lose. This started a new time in my life where I wanted to push the boundaries of what I could do. I craved adventure and the idea of having fun outweighed the idea of pain or punishment. Although I knew that one day a car could swing by and strike me, it never stopped from testing the possibilities. I can never look back on my childhood and decipher what was childlike innocence and what was pure stupidity. When does innocence end and the foolishness begin?

I could never explain why someone would want to put themselves in any danger, even of the slightest amounts. Perhaps it’s the idea that life is renderless without fun. And for those like me, the fun lies in the possibility of an unknown outcome. Living in such a hopeless world, it is easier to get lost in a feeling of being carefree, even for just a moment. It was never the idea of death that excites me, it was the idea of not knowing the next outcome. Now knowing how I see life, just a large game of chance, I can further deter bad decisions. I can reason with myself on my purposes and intentions. Do I hope to find the adrenaline in the possibility of harm, or rather I just want to try something new. Distinguishing the excitement of trying something new and the excitement fueled by pure agnst creates a sense of maturity. Looking inward to decide if they seek being in harm's way.