Stories
Author's Note: I really wanted to write a piece that went along with the theme of it. I decided to write about how stories soften our view on reality. They help us through tough times and they actually mean a lot more to us than we say they do. We learn a lot from the stories of our childhood and from stories that we hear throughout our lives. So I decided to write a piece that tells a story but also tells the reality of it to.
It’s been years since I've sat with my dad and let him tell me those silly stories like he used to. I remember those stories clearly and they mean a lot more to me now than they did then. There was a lot of depth and meaning within those stories about a boy in Neverland or an elephant who never seemed to fit in but it was my own dad's story that comes back to me. His story seemed more real than any other story that he told me even though it bore me to death and I dreaded the nights when he would tell another part of it when all I really wanted was another Dr. Suess book. It wasn't until later that I realized that his story is what made me okay at the end of the day and it made me have hope when I was so disappointed with me as a person and I'm so grateful that my dad always came into my room to tell me that story because I don't know what I would have turned out to be like if he hadn't. The story started out in the most unoriginal way but, at the same time, it started out perfectly:
Once upon a time, there was a young boy named Charlie who was new to town and frankly, everyone thought he was a bit of an odd egg but Charlie didn't care and he held his head high when he walked through the hallways at school with his bright purple hair and unique personality even though his reputation as the weird kid got to him sometimes. He couldn't help that he was born with this hair and believe me he always tried to dye it when he was younger because he wanted to fit in but the next day it would just turn back to bright purple. This really started to annoy Charlie and he constantly complained about it to his mother even though she obviously couldn’t do anything about it. People would constantly put him down about who he was that he started to hate himself very much and he was very sad. He didn't know what to do anymore after being beaten down so much by cruel people who were average, bland and boring. Charlie would try, try and try to lift his spirits but sometimes it was really challenging to stay who he was. He would try to be normal by listening to normal music, wearing normal clothes and doing normal things but this would only make him feel worse because he knew it was all fake.
Terrible things would happen to Charlie and sometimes he dreaded going to school to have to face these people who were tormenting him but his mom would be there in the doorway every morning smiling at him and telling him to come down and have some breakfast. Of course, he would come down for fear that his mother might turn evil at any second and stare him down with terrifying stares of hers. He would get on the bus and wave goodbye to his mother before sitting down in a seat all by himself. School was scarring and boring at the same time. There were days when the bullies would be so bad he would cry that night when he got home but there were also times when he got bored with them. They would say the same things and finally it got to a point where it didn’t even hurt that much anymore. Charlie just didn’t understand why kids were so mean to him and I mean, sure, he had purple hair but Charlie had seen other older kids with colored hair (voluntarily, of course) where as Charlie didn’t have a choice because of a crazy genetic mess up but he still didn’t see the difference. Just because Charlie was different made him feel like he deserved to be made fun of. It made him very sad, very sad indeed.
Now, I know this story is awfully cheesy and very obvious but don't worry I'm not going to tell you the whole thing because that would take a long time. When I was little I never really got the message out of it and I kind of just thought it was some story that my dad was making up off the top of his head and I didn't really realize that it had anything to do with reality until I got to about second grade when kids started to show their real colors. Children are really the cruelest people in the world. They have the courage to say some things that adults would never say. Most adults keep things inside their heads and come up with nasty remarks about the person they are talking to but never actually say what they think. You see, kids aren't nearly as self-conscious as an adult, they say what they want to say even if it gets them in trouble and half the time kids don’t even care that they get in trouble because they are satisfied with what they said and happy that they hurt the other persons feelings. Then, I didn’t get that this story was meant to help brush those harsh words off my shoulders and leave those heartless people behind and the story seemed pretty depressing until my dad got to the end of it:
Charlie had gone through some tough times when he was a child but now that he looks back on all those times when the bullies would corner him and give him a wedgie, the time the kids shaved off half of his hair and even the time they hung him from the flag pole but he knew it was all over now. People weren't so mean anymore and he actually had people look at him politely and not with disgust like his bullies used to. He was actually kind of happy now and he was finally leaving his place that made him so sad. He was finally leaving these halls where he was pushed up against the lockers and he had to admit he wasn't going to miss the place. Maybe he would miss Mrs. Goldstein who use to talk to after school and made him laugh every once and a while and maybe he'll miss Andy, his one and only friend through all those years. She had a cleft lip and no one really talked to her but Charlie knew what it was like to feel alone so he befriended her. He would miss her and Mrs. Goldstein and that was probably it but he was ready to go to a whole new world where will be people like him, well, maybe not like him but maybe they will have different colored hair like him even if it was their choice. Charlie was finally starting to like the way he looked. He had to admit, his hair looked really good with a blue baseball cap on and that people frequently thought he played in a punk band which made him feel cool. He was really glad that he made it through what he did because now he knows that he can be happy and that school really is only a small portion of his life and that he has so much more life to live. So, he walked through that school one last time, he walked out those doors and he never went back.
It's kind of funny how I never got the point of this story because it was right there in my father's voice when he said those words. It was obvious that he never wanted me to give up on myself even though people might want to give up on me. It was obvious that he loved me even though I might be different from the other kids and that he wanted me to know that even though being a kid and going to school might just be one of the toughest times in my life but that it would end and I would move on. I learned that I should never let people tell me who I should be because they can turn me into someone just as bad and sick as them. It all seems so easy in the story but really people are even meaner than they are in stories; reality is so much harsher than what it seems to be. Stories are no where near reality but we have to be smart enough to realize that stories are based off reality so we must listen very hard to them. Stories can help you through torturous times in your life, times when you lose hope that this pain could ever end. Stories can help us grow into the type of people the world needs because this world is full of corrupt and cynical people who don't deserve the power they possess. Stories also help us escape, if only for a little while, they help ease the pain and they make us feel less alone. I know that people would scoff at that but it's true, even the most random and pointless stories can make us laugh and feel a little better inside.
Stories are a lot more important to us than we imply. We say that they are immature and obnoxious but we have to remember how excited we used to get when we would have story time in kindergarten or the feeling when our parents would come in the room at night with our favorite picture book. It might not have hit us then but we have to remember how we felt and what we learned from those stories. The children who remember this feeling grow up and they still have the heart and charm of a child and that makes them so much more beautiful inside and out than a person who forgot or who didn't get to experience those feelings, those are the people who lose their hearts. A lot of people lose the heart and cheer that they had when they were little. I want to be the parent that acts like a child with their child, the one who can discipline but can also bestow a little of my free-heartedness onto them. That is what I want, I want my child to have the heart to get past anything and have the sense of humor to laugh it off. I want to be the parent who has the time to sit down and read my child a story and a great story at that because at the end of the day, that is what they will remember when they get older and they will know that there is beauty behind every person, evil or good, and that they can always be as silly as they want to be because they shouldn't let anyone tell them to be otherwise. That's what's so great about stories because most of them show the world with rose-tinted glasses and they give us hope when no one else has.
Author's Note: This is my response to the prompt, discuss Mr. Kumar and Pi's description and respect for him, it is mostly about why Pi liked Mr. Kumar so much and the effect he had on Pi. I thought that it was interesting that Pi still liked Mr. Kumar when he told Pi he was an atheist because Pi is religious. I think that Pi really appreciated what Mr. Kumar told him and took what he could from it but also stayed true to his faith.
Author's Note: I really wanted to write a piece that went along with the theme of it. I decided to write about how stories soften our view on reality. They help us through tough times and they actually mean a lot more to us than we say they do. We learn a lot from the stories of our childhood and from stories that we hear throughout our lives. So I decided to write a piece that tells a story but also tells the reality of it to.
It’s been years since I've sat with my dad and let him tell me those silly stories like he used to. I remember those stories clearly and they mean a lot more to me now than they did then. There was a lot of depth and meaning within those stories about a boy in Neverland or an elephant who never seemed to fit in but it was my own dad's story that comes back to me. His story seemed more real than any other story that he told me even though it bore me to death and I dreaded the nights when he would tell another part of it when all I really wanted was another Dr. Suess book. It wasn't until later that I realized that his story is what made me okay at the end of the day and it made me have hope when I was so disappointed with me as a person and I'm so grateful that my dad always came into my room to tell me that story because I don't know what I would have turned out to be like if he hadn't. The story started out in the most unoriginal way but, at the same time, it started out perfectly:
Once upon a time, there was a young boy named Charlie who was new to town and frankly, everyone thought he was a bit of an odd egg but Charlie didn't care and he held his head high when he walked through the hallways at school with his bright purple hair and unique personality even though his reputation as the weird kid got to him sometimes. He couldn't help that he was born with this hair and believe me he always tried to dye it when he was younger because he wanted to fit in but the next day it would just turn back to bright purple. This really started to annoy Charlie and he constantly complained about it to his mother even though she obviously couldn’t do anything about it. People would constantly put him down about who he was that he started to hate himself very much and he was very sad. He didn't know what to do anymore after being beaten down so much by cruel people who were average, bland and boring. Charlie would try, try and try to lift his spirits but sometimes it was really challenging to stay who he was. He would try to be normal by listening to normal music, wearing normal clothes and doing normal things but this would only make him feel worse because he knew it was all fake.
Terrible things would happen to Charlie and sometimes he dreaded going to school to have to face these people who were tormenting him but his mom would be there in the doorway every morning smiling at him and telling him to come down and have some breakfast. Of course, he would come down for fear that his mother might turn evil at any second and stare him down with terrifying stares of hers. He would get on the bus and wave goodbye to his mother before sitting down in a seat all by himself. School was scarring and boring at the same time. There were days when the bullies would be so bad he would cry that night when he got home but there were also times when he got bored with them. They would say the same things and finally it got to a point where it didn’t even hurt that much anymore. Charlie just didn’t understand why kids were so mean to him and I mean, sure, he had purple hair but Charlie had seen other older kids with colored hair (voluntarily, of course) where as Charlie didn’t have a choice because of a crazy genetic mess up but he still didn’t see the difference. Just because Charlie was different made him feel like he deserved to be made fun of. It made him very sad, very sad indeed.
Now, I know this story is awfully cheesy and very obvious but don't worry I'm not going to tell you the whole thing because that would take a long time. When I was little I never really got the message out of it and I kind of just thought it was some story that my dad was making up off the top of his head and I didn't really realize that it had anything to do with reality until I got to about second grade when kids started to show their real colors. Children are really the cruelest people in the world. They have the courage to say some things that adults would never say. Most adults keep things inside their heads and come up with nasty remarks about the person they are talking to but never actually say what they think. You see, kids aren't nearly as self-conscious as an adult, they say what they want to say even if it gets them in trouble and half the time kids don’t even care that they get in trouble because they are satisfied with what they said and happy that they hurt the other persons feelings. Then, I didn’t get that this story was meant to help brush those harsh words off my shoulders and leave those heartless people behind and the story seemed pretty depressing until my dad got to the end of it:
Charlie had gone through some tough times when he was a child but now that he looks back on all those times when the bullies would corner him and give him a wedgie, the time the kids shaved off half of his hair and even the time they hung him from the flag pole but he knew it was all over now. People weren't so mean anymore and he actually had people look at him politely and not with disgust like his bullies used to. He was actually kind of happy now and he was finally leaving his place that made him so sad. He was finally leaving these halls where he was pushed up against the lockers and he had to admit he wasn't going to miss the place. Maybe he would miss Mrs. Goldstein who use to talk to after school and made him laugh every once and a while and maybe he'll miss Andy, his one and only friend through all those years. She had a cleft lip and no one really talked to her but Charlie knew what it was like to feel alone so he befriended her. He would miss her and Mrs. Goldstein and that was probably it but he was ready to go to a whole new world where will be people like him, well, maybe not like him but maybe they will have different colored hair like him even if it was their choice. Charlie was finally starting to like the way he looked. He had to admit, his hair looked really good with a blue baseball cap on and that people frequently thought he played in a punk band which made him feel cool. He was really glad that he made it through what he did because now he knows that he can be happy and that school really is only a small portion of his life and that he has so much more life to live. So, he walked through that school one last time, he walked out those doors and he never went back.
It's kind of funny how I never got the point of this story because it was right there in my father's voice when he said those words. It was obvious that he never wanted me to give up on myself even though people might want to give up on me. It was obvious that he loved me even though I might be different from the other kids and that he wanted me to know that even though being a kid and going to school might just be one of the toughest times in my life but that it would end and I would move on. I learned that I should never let people tell me who I should be because they can turn me into someone just as bad and sick as them. It all seems so easy in the story but really people are even meaner than they are in stories; reality is so much harsher than what it seems to be. Stories are no where near reality but we have to be smart enough to realize that stories are based off reality so we must listen very hard to them. Stories can help you through torturous times in your life, times when you lose hope that this pain could ever end. Stories can help us grow into the type of people the world needs because this world is full of corrupt and cynical people who don't deserve the power they possess. Stories also help us escape, if only for a little while, they help ease the pain and they make us feel less alone. I know that people would scoff at that but it's true, even the most random and pointless stories can make us laugh and feel a little better inside.
Stories are a lot more important to us than we imply. We say that they are immature and obnoxious but we have to remember how excited we used to get when we would have story time in kindergarten or the feeling when our parents would come in the room at night with our favorite picture book. It might not have hit us then but we have to remember how we felt and what we learned from those stories. The children who remember this feeling grow up and they still have the heart and charm of a child and that makes them so much more beautiful inside and out than a person who forgot or who didn't get to experience those feelings, those are the people who lose their hearts. A lot of people lose the heart and cheer that they had when they were little. I want to be the parent that acts like a child with their child, the one who can discipline but can also bestow a little of my free-heartedness onto them. That is what I want, I want my child to have the heart to get past anything and have the sense of humor to laugh it off. I want to be the parent who has the time to sit down and read my child a story and a great story at that because at the end of the day, that is what they will remember when they get older and they will know that there is beauty behind every person, evil or good, and that they can always be as silly as they want to be because they shouldn't let anyone tell them to be otherwise. That's what's so great about stories because most of them show the world with rose-tinted glasses and they give us hope when no one else has.
Author's Note: This is my response to the prompt, discuss Mr. Kumar and Pi's description and respect for him, it is mostly about why Pi liked Mr. Kumar so much and the effect he had on Pi. I thought that it was interesting that Pi still liked Mr. Kumar when he told Pi he was an atheist because Pi is religious. I think that Pi really appreciated what Mr. Kumar told him and took what he could from it but also stayed true to his faith.
Understanding of Faiths
The relationship between Pi and Mr. Kumar is one of honest respect and understanding. They equally respect and understand each others views, whether it be believing a God or not. Pi may not completely understand Mr. Kumar's views but he certainly respects them; Mr. Kumar is the type of man that may look foolish but once he opens his mouth, science and reason come out which is not something to mess with unless you are just as foolish as Mr. Kumar looks. When a person talks about science and laws, it is quite intimidating. They seem to be educated and believable and the Facts that they throw at you leave you staggering, pale-faced, because it seems like you just got the wind knocked out of you, realizing a whole new kind of faith.
"What if his words had the effect of polio on me? What a terrible disease that must be if it could kill God in a man." - Chapter 7, page 28; The words spoken by Mr. Kumar to Pi shocked Pi and made him admire Mr. Kumar even more. In the novel, Pi says that atheists are like his brothers and sisters of a different faith. Pi likes that with every word they say, they say them with faith and he respects that. So the idea that Mr. Kumar is his favorite teacher is completely reasonable because of one simple point, they can both understand faith.
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Author's Note: I got my inspiration from the part of the novel when Pi finally expressed his love to Richard Parker after the ship past by them. I think that people don't realize they love something until they realize what it would be like if that person was not there. I feel like it's really important to show people you love them instead of leaving them feeling unloved. I know Richard Parker is just an animal but I feel like it's still important to tell them you love them.
Loving Acts
Humans walk around hating and being scared of people and animals. The love we hold for people isn't usually expressed but love is really the most shocking act their is; not even the most hating act can out drive a loving act. Humans truly crave love, love from a signficant other, love from a mother or a father, love from their siblings but yet we rarely express it ourselves. In the novel, Life of Pi by Yann Martel, Pi finally gets in a situation where he realizes how much he loves and cherishes Richard Parker because Richard Parker was always there. He never left Pi there, in the middle of the ocean, to be alone.
It's in times of great despair or sadness when we finally come out and say it, "I love you". A lot of people think that those three words are thrown around a lot more often than they should be but it's a lie. It doesn't matter what type of love it is, just as long as it is love. In the novel, Pi loves Richard Parker because he was his companion through a tough time in his life but Pi didn't realize it until he realized how lonely he would be without him. Richard Parker kept Pi's mind off of things Pi missed and the loss of people Pi loved. Richard Parker was his security blanket during the trip and, in reality, we all have a security blanket and, just like Pi, we don't realize we love it until we begin to imagine what it would be like without it in our lives.
Expressing our love is something so important in life. We want the people we love to know we love them and that they are important to us, maybe just so they know it or maybe for them to say they love us back. In the novel, Pi needed to express his love for Richard Parker because he knew it was the truth, he really did love him for not leaving him alone and sometimes that's one of the most important things in life, not being left behind.
In response to the Pi writing piece: I absolutely loved this. You found a way to creatively write exactly what the thesis of the novel was, that is, literature, stories, exist to help us deal with a reality that is too harsh, too complex, too potent, to deal with straight on. We need to be able to help one another focus on one thing at a time in order not to be blinded by the too harsh messages that bombard us. It's like filtering sunlight so we can see an eclipse. The experimenting with different forms continues to be intriguing, and I so look forward to reading whatever you write these days. Thank you so much for being creative and intelligent at the same time.
ReplyDeleteMorgan, I loved that you took a different path of writing on your piece titled--Stories--. The way you blended the theme of the novel with a story that was totally creative seems like such a good way to really not only understand what the novel is about but also have fun while writing it. This was enjoyable to read so great job.
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