My Blogging Experience

          This is not my first blog. I already have a Tumblr account where I tend to get WAY more personal than what I did here. Including this one, I made 9 entries on this blog. I know I should have written a lot more on this blog, but sadly, time is a factor that I couldn't control. It was lack of time and at some moments motivation that held me back from writing.
          I know I opened up a little bit when writing here. It's not every day I let my classmates know about me being an atheist, or my experiences in life. I've never really liked opening up in school about my personal life. I tend to show people the surface of my life, like my fiancee, my parents and closest friends. But I don't think I even mention how much of a geek I am, or about my depression.
          I like using this format as a way of showing people that anything is possible. After battling with my depression, anxieties and surviving 3 suicide attempts, I like to see life from a different, lighter perspective. My suicide attempts are something I'm obviously embarrassed about, but it's part of my past, and it's made me who I am today. 
          Just like the journal I see this as a form of therapy, and I'm pretty sure I'll keep writing on my blog for a while. Maybe not every day, or even every week, but I'll try to keep this medium active. The way I see it is that if I'm actually still writing in my journal, why wouldn't I write in my blog? So for now, I say farewell for a while and good luck with everything. 

Jim Cooper on Teaching

          Jim Cooper was an English professor in Puerto Rico during the 1950's. He also went around schools in the island to supervise and evaluate teachers. Now, there's something you must know about Puerto Rico in the 50's (actually, it's still happening today). In Puerto Rico everything is ruled by politics. People want to be Puerto Rican, yet they can't live without federal help. I believe that if we're part of a country, and our second language is English, we should at least learn it correctly. Even if it's just basic English. But a lot people here believe that if you speak English you're a "vende patria", you're selling your motherland. It really is all politics. 
          Now, Cooper tells us about the first teaching experiences he had, being a native speaker, but never a teacher. Many people in Puerto Rico were taught English in schools by non-English speaking teachers. Do you get the irony yet? Flash Forward 50 years into the future, and I'll tell you a story of MY experience as a public school student. 
          I learned English in my own home. Dad talked to me in Spanish while mom talked to me in both English and Spanish. Add to that the fact that I watched movies and played video games in English, and that at 4 years old I was already reading in English, and you get a fully bilingual public school student. 
          While in school I was taught not to go against what the teachers taught me, and I didn't because most of the things I was learning in elementary school, I was learning for the first time. The only time I actually spoke up and corrected my teachers was in English class. I'm glad to say I wasn't the only one. But what would you do if the whole class was copying the word "sheeps" as the plural for "sheep"? 
          I politely raised my hand and told the teacher with the terrible accent and grammar, that the plural to sheep was the same word, sheep. Needless to say, that the teacher was furious and actually sent me to the office, but at what cost? My classmates were being taught the most inaccurate form of English and I saw it as my responsibility to correct the teacher and teach the right way. Later on in life I found out that my teacher was actually supposed to be a science teacher. But I never really found out who assigned him to teach something he doesn't know.

About Racism....

          I recently went to a panel on Racism where there were three speakers: Professor Cole, Professor Moya and Professor Juan Caraballo-Resto. Out of all three it was the latter's account that actually had me in tears. 

          He spoke of a man, a Muslim man, living in Puerto Rico. Apparently he'd been living here for over 30 years. As most of us know, the Muslim religion has a very distinct praying ritual where they kneel in the direction of Mecca. This is called Salat. 

         Well, the man, whose name was omitted, partakes in this ritual every day. He's very proud of his culture and his religion. But at the same time, he's both afraid and embarrassed. 

          Whenever the time for prayer comes nears, this man goes into the nearest men's clothing store carrying his briefcase, or a bag. He chooses anything and walks over to the dressing room, where he locks himself in a cubicle and instead of trying on whichever outfit he picked, he puts down his prayer rug, kneels and quietly prays. 

          He does this every day. He has to hide his true self from everyone else every day. But why? If he were to do it on the side of the road, how many people would honk and yell at him? People would call the police because there's a "terrorist" doing who-knows- what. Ignorance closes doors, and the fact that there would be so many negative reactions just because a man is praying to a different god than what is considered normal by Puerto Rican standards makes me shake my head.

          I tried putting myself in this man's shoes. In a way I know how it feels to be afraid of society because of my beliefs... or lack thereof. I'm an atheist, I was raised in a catholic household, but at the same time I have never really believed in any god. Sometimes I'm terrified of even mentioning this to the people that surround me because I know that some people assume that atheism equals satanism. Just like some people think that every Muslim is a terrorist; when most of the time, they're the ones spreading terror all around. 

Caged Paradise: A Web-Based Research

          This semester I had to meet one of my biggest fears head on: Public Speaking. My hands were clammy, my heart was racing, and I stuttered my way through it. But I did it! Even if I felt light headed and woozy afterwards. 
          My group-mates and I did a panel on Puerto Rico and how it is seen through the webs eyes. I'm not one of those people that live in a bubble and think that Puerto Rico's perfect. I know it's not. I've seen how close to perfection some other places can get to be. But still... it was quite harsh to see how people reject us; be it because of our status or the way the media portrays us. 
          There's two sides to the coin, though. Many tourists see Puerto Rico as paradise, mostly because of the beaches, the rum and the food. But the people that think negatively about my country see Puerto Rico as a breeding ground for criminals and drug users. I want to scream and shout, and just let it out...  NOT EVERYONE IS LIKE THAT HERE! I can't stand it when people generalize.
          There's a scene in the movie Selena, where her dad is telling her how hard is is to be a Mexican American. 

I think this applies to Puerto Ricans in a way. We need to be more Latinos than the rest of Latin America, but at the same time we're so "Americanized" and basically belong to the United States that we don't have a full Puerto Rican identity. Some tourists have complained that there's more KFC's and Taco Bells here than cultural food restaurants. And I agree. There's more chain restaurants and stores than mom and pop businesses, and I personally think that needs to change.

Some of my group mates presenting our panel

          As for my experience talking in front of an audience.... it was horrible. I've been able to sing in front of dozens of people, but to actually talk was one of the worst things I've experienced. It got to the point where I was glad I was last to talk, because I thought I would faint. I don't think I could do it again. 

My Journey Journal Experience

This might have been my all time favorite assignment for a class. I’ve always wanted to keep a journal, but because of time and I guess plain laziness I’ve never had one. The “anti”-rules were simple enough:

1.        Don’t cross out
2.        Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, grammar
3.        Don’t think or get logical
4.        Go for the jugular
5.        Keep your hand moving

I guess I should add “Have fun” as the sixth rule, because I actually had fun while doing it.

                After doing 41 entries of my journal I can honestly say that my writing style changed. At first it was super hard not to think about anything and write the first thing that came to mind. I actually wanted to create a story about my day or something like that, but I conditioned myself to just “keep my hand moving” and not think about anything. In the first few entries I struggled a lot and it’s noticeable. Even my handwriting looks neat. But there’s a transition that starts showing up about mid way through, where my handwriting is freer.

                I thought about crossing out so many times, and it was always because I made a spelling mistake. I started getting anxious and I felt like I needed to fix those mistakes, and instead of crossing anything out, I wrote the word over and over until I felt like I could forget about it.

                My favorite "anti"-rule, by far is "Go for the jugular". I feel like I went in to KILL. If what was on my mind was a disagreement with a friend or family member, I could just let it all out and breathe a sigh of relief when my 10 minutes were up. Sometimes if I was very angry, I went over my 10 minutes of writing time. This served as some sort of therapy now that i think about it. 
            On one of my entries I started writing about the noises I heard, there were people talking, someone chewing too loudly, and even my own foot tapping the chair leg. I was in the student center of the University. A girl I know sat nearby and I just went off! I can't stand her at all, and I wrote about how annoying she is, and started writing to my journal why I think she's annoying (she's a liar and has spread rumors about people she hardly knows). I treated my journal as a friend, a confidant, if you will. 

           Writing on my Journal has definitely helped me out. It's helped me arrange my thoughts and feelings. It helped me deal with my emotions, especially my anger and my frustration. 
           I decorated it according to my inner and outer journey. The outer journey is displayed notably by a map of Puerto Rico. Even though I have traveled almost all over the world, I chose my home island because it's the place I get lost the most. Also because I love road trips. 
          My inner journey is shown by an image depicting my battle with anxiety and depression. Since that's mostly part of my past (even though I'm still battling with both) I put it on the back of the journal. It's something that's part of the past but not forgotten. The front of the journal is adorned by a series of pictures of people, or things, that have helped me battle my demons. The most important are my best friends, my parents, and my fiance. There's also a picture of me as a baby and as an adult. I wanted those pictures as a reminder that no matter what my story is, I've got an adventurous journey up ahead, but I must always remember the past.

This has been my journey so far

    

Reflection on the movie Running Brave

                This semester we had to watch the movie Running Brave for my literature class.  The film is about a Native American named Billy Mills. This young man gets an athletic scholarship from the University of Kansas, but since he is Native American living in the 1950’s he has to deal with racism from his coach and peers.

                This is one of those true story movies that tend to be shown on tv at 3 or 4 on Sunday mornings. It’s honestly not a bad movie. My only “problem” with it is that it’s a bit dated and the acting is sub-par. Story wise, it was an emotional roller-coaster. I should also mention that it's a true story.

At first, Billy wasn't wanted at the university, because according to the coach “Indians are quitters”. And at some point of the movie that was actually true, Billy did quit, and went back to the reservation. Honestly this disappointed me a bit. I mean, come on, Billy! Prove them wrong! I believe in you!

As for the journey theme, we see his physical journey from the reservation, to university and later on to the Olympics. 

We also get to experience his emotional journey. I even felt pained whenever someone acted racist against Billy. I've never experienced racism, but from what I know about it, it's something that could put you down. I felt the ups and downs, from winning gold in the Olympics, to his friend's death.

As for someone who has lost a very dear friend, I can honestly say i understand why he basically dropped out of school. That pain is unbelievable, but at the same time, I'm glad they showed on the film that you can overcome that pain and keep going with your life.

The real Billy Mills winning gold in the Olympics