A Quarter In Rear View Mirror - What the Black Pacific Has Taught Me

When I chose this course for my senior seminar, I honestly did not know what the course was going to be about. I had read the title of the course, and it sounded interesting, and I knew for sure that it would not be about Victorian novels. Not that there is anything wrong with Victorian novels, I had just finished taking my fourth class on Victorian novels and material, and it was interesting, but I wanted to try something new. With that in mind, I selected The Black Pacific. I had no idea going in to this class would change my perspective on so many things. I used to joke with my roommates that I loved my senior seminar class because it made me feel like an adult. It felt so amazing to discuss issues with my peers about things that mattered, such as the way laws are worded to seem fair, but can  really hide racism or other biases within them to favor the privileged or dominant part of society; things I never knew or paid attention to before such as The United States' personal and political interests in global wars for their personal gain - the heavy handed role they played in starting wars with fake and weak justifications. This class made me informed and interested. It made me care about the world around me, the plight of others, and the role that I can play in either lightening that load, or making it heavier. It made me think about my actions, and my desire to help people. While reading Plessy v. Ferguson, I had a moment where I seriously contemplated becoming a civil rights lawyer, I wanted to be the one to challenge cases that fought so hard to put others down. It was something I could do with my close-reading skills. I could find the inequalities in the ideology of the law and use it to fight for the rights of others. I used to want to be a lawyer as a small child, but never seriously. I thought that lawyers made lots of money, and got to argue. I loved to argue as a child and was good at it, and because our family was not financially stable, I thought that being able to make lots of money would make me happy. However, this was different. This was the first time that I felt my skills could help more people than just myself, and simply thinking about that made me ecstatic. I still muse over becoming a lawyer, however, I know that I want to travel and experience other cultures, which is not compatible with being a lawyer, however another thing this class has taught me is that you don't need to be a lawyer to make a change in the world. I love to teach, I have patience with teaching, and I understand that not every person learns the same way and I try to teach so everyone will be able to understand. I want to teach in foreign countries to be able to travel and experience other cultures, and I also want to come back to America and teach. I want to make sure as many young children start getting the education they need so that one by one we can effect change in the world; because change starts with education. Change starts with a knowledge of what is going on in the world, and interpreting the language of that knowledge to see where changes need to be made. I sincerely hope that everyone is able to take this class, because if there is one thing that this class has taught me, it is a desire to change the world, and I know that anyone who takes this class will go on to do great things. And who knows, maybe I'll become a lawyer too.

Wealth Gap in the US

In class yesterday, Dustin mentioned a video that explained the wealth inequality in "America" (I'm not very fond of that term when used solely to refer to the US).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTj9AcwkaKM

I highly recommend watching this video because it offers an eye opening perspective on the perceived reality vs. ideal reality vs. actual reality. In short, we as a nation have a basic understanding that the wealth distribution is skewed. But what we don't know is how enormously skewed it really is. It is actually skewed to the point where the wealth of the wealthiest cannot even fit on our graph.

As I continued to look through the results that appeared in my search, I came across a video that offered a look on wealth distribution in the US based on race.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5BvZllI9-U

What stood out to me in this video above all else, and how it is very relevant to what we've been discussing in class lately, are the racial groups incorporated in this study: White, Black, and Hispanic. No mention of Asian-Americans whatsoever. This reminds me of what Delphin brought up in class: if you're not black and you're not white, what are you? Moreover, within this study, were Asians counted as white? Or were they not included in the study at all? Insofar as the races included in this study, similarly to the Petersen article "Success Story, Japanese-American Style", the video seems to give off a vibe where these races are put up against each other as if they are competing, creating a sort of "oppression Olympics". What's even more unsettling about this video is how, after being given a lot of upsetting data, the narrator concludes the video by briefly suggesting potential wealth building tools, which in a way propagates the upward mobility myth.

Overall, these two videos put in contrast with each other illustrate how difficult it can be to analyze wealth distribution according to race.

"How sweet and just it is, to die for your country."

      This poem has been haunting my subconscious for some time now, its construction of the realities of war is paralleled by America's obsession with the glory of dying for one's country. While written during World War I, the horrifying truth carries over into the disillusionment that black soldiers later faced while risking their life for a government which refused to acknowledge the value of that very life. There is also a strong connection between the chemical warfare described in this soldiers account of WWI, and America's highly developed use of chemicals and technology during the Vietnam War.

Dulce Et Decorum Est
by Wilfred Owen
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.

GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.