So what I wonder is who decided that the presence or lack of an epicanthal fold determines one's superiority.
One thing that disturbs me more than anything else in life is when people pull at their eyes in imitation of Asian peoples. My father did that and my brother's friends do that. My father's parents used to refer to us as "the round-eyed people" and sneered that the "Chinamen" needed to learn English, that the way they spoke was absurd (to which I say, jiba, qing lianxi ni de zhongwen!). Recently I have been researching Epicanthoplasty - the spacing out of the epicanthal fold, or "Westernization" of the Asian eyelid.
That same day I learnt from http://www.healthline.com/blogs/diet_nutrition/2008/03/skinny-on-being-thin.html that being ridiculed for being thin happens too. Not just being fat.
And then I found this disgusting rant on http://www.momlogic.com/2008/08/size_12_youre_fat.php, which reminded me, once again, that I am the wrong shape and size.
Weight. Color. The shape of the face, nose, and eyes. What Makes You You. Are these things to be celebrated?
Yes.
At least, that's what we hear from encouraging voices ... because they are THERE in the media, even if they are not always heard as clearly as the others. But I grew up reading American Girl Library and lots of books on how your shape and size and What Makes You You were meant to be celebrated and enjoyed, so I have heard that everyone is special and unique.
But it's not always so easy.
Are these really things to be celebrated? Sure. But we don't want to celebrate them. We want them to be different.
It is not easy to celebrate who we are.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Life. Ouch. Dead. Life. I Think. Bedtime.
Well, I'm just about dead. It's not often I'm mightily pleased the weekend is over, but here we are.
Saturday and Sunday both brought Community Chorus concerts. We kicked it off with "Seventy Six Trombones" which of course is a great song. You can't help but burst with wild energy when singing it ... or at least I cannot. And then we did a wonderful new ballad called "Tuimbe", which is in African-style tune about music in life's little joys ... and some of the not-so-little ones, too. One of the best was "The Tortoise and the Hare" ... you can listen to "Tuimbe" at http://listeninglab.stantons.com/item.php?stno=429408 but I'm sorry to admit I have no clue where you can find "Tortoise". It's a new song, and just for some reason seems to be nowhere on the Web. So the first half of the concert was really rip-roarin' good theatrical and silly stuff - except for "Anyway", which is dedicated to Mother Theresa (you know a song is cheesy when you're embarrassed for the saint to whom it's dedicated).
(I should note that the poem - http://www.prayerfoundation.org/mother_teresa_do_it_anyway.htm - has been attributed to Mother Theresa but is thought to have originated with Dr. Kent M. Keith. The poem is quite nice. As a song it was cornball times ten multiplied by the radius of pi squared.)
The second half was all Christmas. I've got to tell you, you know, I always hated "Santa Baby" until we actually sang it. It's so much fun to sing ... and "North Pole Rock and Roll" was a medley of a bunch of familiar songs: "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town", some old Elvis tune ... really, if I weren't 90 percent dead, I could tell you more. Maybe later. I'm dead. So very dead.
Oddly enough, "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" was most difficult of all to sing: I take it everyone had his or her own idea of the traditional song ... it was very trying, that particular piece. And yes, we messed it up during both performances.
(This is in fact a lie. Well, a half-truth. I mean, WE messed it up in the second performance. Yours truly messed it up in the first.)
And today was a meeting with YUGA (http://www.planusa.org/content172382) finalizing plans for the AIDS awareness Dance-a-Thon in Providence. Come to Local 121 on Saturday and watch me and a bunch of others dance our wee leetle hearts out. http://www.local121.com/home And join YUGA if you are a Youth who wants to be United with other youths for Global Action and Awareness.
Emily
Saturday and Sunday both brought Community Chorus concerts. We kicked it off with "Seventy Six Trombones" which of course is a great song. You can't help but burst with wild energy when singing it ... or at least I cannot. And then we did a wonderful new ballad called "Tuimbe", which is in African-style tune about music in life's little joys ... and some of the not-so-little ones, too. One of the best was "The Tortoise and the Hare" ... you can listen to "Tuimbe" at http://listeninglab.stantons.com/item.php?stno=429408 but I'm sorry to admit I have no clue where you can find "Tortoise". It's a new song, and just for some reason seems to be nowhere on the Web. So the first half of the concert was really rip-roarin' good theatrical and silly stuff - except for "Anyway", which is dedicated to Mother Theresa (you know a song is cheesy when you're embarrassed for the saint to whom it's dedicated).
(I should note that the poem - http://www.prayerfoundation.org/mother_teresa_do_it_anyway.htm - has been attributed to Mother Theresa but is thought to have originated with Dr. Kent M. Keith. The poem is quite nice. As a song it was cornball times ten multiplied by the radius of pi squared.)
The second half was all Christmas. I've got to tell you, you know, I always hated "Santa Baby" until we actually sang it. It's so much fun to sing ... and "North Pole Rock and Roll" was a medley of a bunch of familiar songs: "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town", some old Elvis tune ... really, if I weren't 90 percent dead, I could tell you more. Maybe later. I'm dead. So very dead.
Oddly enough, "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" was most difficult of all to sing: I take it everyone had his or her own idea of the traditional song ... it was very trying, that particular piece. And yes, we messed it up during both performances.
(This is in fact a lie. Well, a half-truth. I mean, WE messed it up in the second performance. Yours truly messed it up in the first.)
And today was a meeting with YUGA (http://www.planusa.org/content172382) finalizing plans for the AIDS awareness Dance-a-Thon in Providence. Come to Local 121 on Saturday and watch me and a bunch of others dance our wee leetle hearts out. http://www.local121.com/home And join YUGA if you are a Youth who wants to be United with other youths for Global Action and Awareness.
Emily
Saturday, November 21, 2009
(Only Two) Things to Say
I have two things to say on this virutally starless Rhode Island night. (Some of the more country-ish, open-road towns have clusters and clusters of bright silver stars winking above, but not me here in this suburb.) The first:
Why do people have to get high on marijuana when there are conversations to be had in Chinese? Nothing gives me a high like talking with someone in his or her (non-English) native language.
The other:
Why do people have to get high on marijuana when there are conversations to be had in Chinese? Nothing gives me a high like talking with someone in his or her (non-English) native language.
The other:
Okay, so you've got a seventeen-year-old girl in front of you. You haven't seen this girl in probably almost a year now, ever since she stopped attending Saturday evening church service. Last time you saw her, she was pale and skinny and eating nothing but carrots at the Wednesday night church suppers. Then she went into the hospital. Put two and two together.
A tip for getting along with teenage girls, no matter how old you are: when you see the young lady a year later, don't tell her she looks like she's "gaining a pound or two", no matter how well you mean.
Emily
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Dreaming
I've been meaning to share the other night's dream.
It begins with a banned of drugged zombies at my door. Some of them I know; one is a cartoon character from Family Guy and a few are fellows from my past I had hoped never to see again.
I am not entirely sure what to say.
The zombie-druggies (I think they were really really drugged, not corpses - and one of them happened to be an addict from my past, so ...) pile into my front room and start sabatoging the house with their anti-social zombie etiquette. Some lie down on the couch and pass out. Others start moaning about their horrible, horrible lives to me. I begin playing counselor and offering advice. The zombies do not take the advice but instead decide to murder me. I run around for a while and, when the zombies are probably stumbling around confused somewhere in the house, I pick up the phone and dial 911.
"Hello," burbles the male receptionist on the other end, who sounds remarkably like the head of the theater department I recently auditioned for, "You've reached 911 Services; please state your emergency; if you are experiencing fire, robery, or attempted murder, please stay on the line and we will send an ambulance and police officers your way; if you are experiencing medical trauma, please describe your symptoms and we will send medical assistance in the form of ambulances and physicians; for all other calls, please hang up now."
"Hi, um, my hosue is full of drugged nuts who are chasing me around ... trying to kill me ... I think they might have had a little booze, too," I state calmly into the phone.
"Oh please," says the receptionist. "This sounds like a great plot for a movie, but you're just spewing nonsense, and so -"
"No, I'm serious. They've filled my house!"
"I have better things to do," sniffs the receptionist, and slams down the phone.
The rest of the dream is a blur - I leave the house to do some shopping or something. I come home and the drugged zombies have disappeared, leaving my brothers and mother in their places.
"Hi," I say. "Did someone send police officers to get rid of the zombies?"
"Um, no," replies my mother. Then she hesitates. "But they did send movie executives."
It begins with a banned of drugged zombies at my door. Some of them I know; one is a cartoon character from Family Guy and a few are fellows from my past I had hoped never to see again.
I am not entirely sure what to say.
The zombie-druggies (I think they were really really drugged, not corpses - and one of them happened to be an addict from my past, so ...) pile into my front room and start sabatoging the house with their anti-social zombie etiquette. Some lie down on the couch and pass out. Others start moaning about their horrible, horrible lives to me. I begin playing counselor and offering advice. The zombies do not take the advice but instead decide to murder me. I run around for a while and, when the zombies are probably stumbling around confused somewhere in the house, I pick up the phone and dial 911.
"Hello," burbles the male receptionist on the other end, who sounds remarkably like the head of the theater department I recently auditioned for, "You've reached 911 Services; please state your emergency; if you are experiencing fire, robery, or attempted murder, please stay on the line and we will send an ambulance and police officers your way; if you are experiencing medical trauma, please describe your symptoms and we will send medical assistance in the form of ambulances and physicians; for all other calls, please hang up now."
"Hi, um, my hosue is full of drugged nuts who are chasing me around ... trying to kill me ... I think they might have had a little booze, too," I state calmly into the phone.
"Oh please," says the receptionist. "This sounds like a great plot for a movie, but you're just spewing nonsense, and so -"
"No, I'm serious. They've filled my house!"
"I have better things to do," sniffs the receptionist, and slams down the phone.
The rest of the dream is a blur - I leave the house to do some shopping or something. I come home and the drugged zombies have disappeared, leaving my brothers and mother in their places.
"Hi," I say. "Did someone send police officers to get rid of the zombies?"
"Um, no," replies my mother. Then she hesitates. "But they did send movie executives."
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Adopt Donald!
| Donald May 1997 Donald is a captivating, expressive and sensitive twelve year old boy who wants a forever family to call his own. He describes himself as being funny, silly, athletic, and just a fun kid. In the spring and summer, Donald loves to garden. He loves to grow tomatoes and eat fresh lettuce from the garden. Donald takes great pride in the vegetables that he can harvest. He enjoys many summer activities such as hiking, fishing, riding bikes, swimming, and camping. Indoors you may find him playing video games, watching movies, or playing cards. Donald's favorite movie is "Alvin and the Chipmunks". Donald loves to laugh and tell jokes. A childhood favorite book is Dr. Suess' "Green Eggs and Ham". His favorite sport is football, and he loves to cheer on the Patriots', Tom Brady! Donald would love the opportunity to be with a family that could teach him how to draw, play sports with him, and have snowball fights. Staying active and being outside is important to Donald. He enjoys helping adults do yard work and chores. He is an affectionate young boy who thrives on attention and being around those who have a good sense of humor. In school Donald is currently in the 7th grade. He enjoys and is good at Math but appreciates help with homework assignments. In Donald's words, "adoption is more difficult to talk about because I've been waiting for a long time. I don't think it will ever happen for me. I want a family that will always be by my side, watch sports with me, and play outside with me. I want a family that will make homemade mac-n-cheese with me, which is my favorite food. I dream about being in a family, going to Disney World, going to college, and becoming a policeman." Donald will thrive in a family that is structured, consistent and firm with their rules, but a balance of love and nurturing. He has been given many reasons not to trust adults in his life and will need a family that will not waiver in their commitment to him. He is hopeful there is a family for him, but scared that a family will give up on him, as they have in the past. Because of disappointments in his life, Donald will also need a family that is patient in allowing him to trust others again. Donald is a compassionate, cuddly and irresistible little boy who has the potential to grow and succeed, but needs a family who will believe in him and be committed to parenting him. Click here to view Donald's and other recent Tuesday's Child segments. | That's right, Donald doesn't think he'll ever be adopted. No kid is ever too old to be adopted. Emily |
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Dolls. Looking for a Piggie. Shelving Books. And Also a Link About Suicide.
Shelving library books is a really physical job. It's nice. Very nice. On the other hand, shelving the reference books gets to be really exhausting - it's mathematical, alphabetical, and physically taxing. So this has turned out to be a most interesting job, this paging at the library. Well, I'm glad to have it: volunteering is nice but I didn't even know I could have this as a job. For some reason, I guess, I supposed one had to be older than seventeen to be a page ...
Yesterday brought me to the antique shop in the local village. And they had a Japanese doll in a case predating 1921. And so this made me determined to organize a proper place for my Old Dolls collection. And it looks great, the squat little shelf under the window full of dolls ... if I can get my camera working a little better I'll put up a photograph. They look really lovely.
Today I would like to head down there again to pick up the most interesting-looking little ceramic piggie (I have a certain respect for pigs after reading the almost exclusively meat-related article in the Funk and Wagnall's encyclopedia set). But my blood sugar isn't in a cooperative mood this afternoon. This keeps me from walking into the village like I would otherwise be able to do.
I found this today - thought it was definitely worth posting. It's a really helpful article on suicide prevention; goes very in-depth about just how suicidal people tend to feel beforehand. I liked it. And I appreciated how unbiased it was, versus some of the other articles on suicide out there.
http://www.essortment.com/all/dealingwithsui_reel.htm
I suppose I'll go back to researching atomic elemental formulas now. You know it's a bit tricky, figuring out just which element has which particular formula ...
Emily
Yesterday brought me to the antique shop in the local village. And they had a Japanese doll in a case predating 1921. And so this made me determined to organize a proper place for my Old Dolls collection. And it looks great, the squat little shelf under the window full of dolls ... if I can get my camera working a little better I'll put up a photograph. They look really lovely.
Today I would like to head down there again to pick up the most interesting-looking little ceramic piggie (I have a certain respect for pigs after reading the almost exclusively meat-related article in the Funk and Wagnall's encyclopedia set). But my blood sugar isn't in a cooperative mood this afternoon. This keeps me from walking into the village like I would otherwise be able to do.
I found this today - thought it was definitely worth posting. It's a really helpful article on suicide prevention; goes very in-depth about just how suicidal people tend to feel beforehand. I liked it. And I appreciated how unbiased it was, versus some of the other articles on suicide out there.
http://www.essortment.com/all/dealingwithsui_reel.htm
I suppose I'll go back to researching atomic elemental formulas now. You know it's a bit tricky, figuring out just which element has which particular formula ...
Emily
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
