Category: BlockOne

Before you join me on a tour of my family’s typical death anniversary meals, I would like to inform that one of the most significant features of Vietnamese culture is the tradition of worshipping our previous generations.

 

My maternal grandmother has five siblings. Each of them have an average of two kids, which accounts for eleven aunts and uncles (excluding my mother). As a result, I currently have roughly 20 cousins on my mother’s side of the family.

 

On death anniversaries, the whole extended family gathers for a huge meal at the house of my grandmother’s youngest sibling, which is located on a street that surrounds part of Hanoi’s beautiful botanical garden. I was always excited to be there because I could play with my second cousins, whom I did not get to see very often.

 

However, before I could have fun with my playmates, my parents imposed on me the duty of greeting the elders and praying to the pedestal. Little 6-year-old me was usually embarrassed to greet the old grandfathers, perhaps due to the customs of respecting and honoring older generations, as well as the widespread practice of patriarchy, which makes the old grandpas more intimidating than they are. However, I did it anyway; I greeted them with my signature smile and a timid voice. Hiding my blushing face, I turned to the pedestal. Praying to the ancestors and the great-grandparents is much easier. I put my hands together in the praying position, closed my eyes, and thought of a line that my father had given me, which could be translated to English as, “Pray to the great-grandparents to bless my family with salvation and protection.” I opened my eyes to see the rising smoke from the incense; burning incense is believed to be a way of showing commemoration to those who have passed away.

 

Then came my favorite part of the day: the meal.

 

Thanks to the grandmas who are always worried that their husbands, children, and grandchildren are hungry, our extended family never has to come home without feeling full. A typical meal for a death anniversary, per table, would consist of parts of a boiled chicken, at least one stir-fry dish, fried spring rolls (the best kind of spring rolls), a salad, and a bowl of soup, usually with glass-noodles in chicken broth or with dried bamboo shoots and pork ribs.

 

Thinking about a typical death anniversary meal leads me to this: a death anniversary meal serves the purposes of being a reminder for members of an extended family to remember where they come from and to catch up with each other. In other words, a death anniversary meal serves to strengthen the connections between blood relatives (unless you don’t get along well with them.)

 

Willy Ronis is one of the French urban photographers who I admired the most. His camera lens is always aligning with the fiery life in front of everyone’s eyes. Every photo he takes is pointing to the center of real life. What I admire is his attitude of interacting with secularities.

Ronis can get along with all kinds of people. There is always a person or a few people in each of his works. He is willing to take photos of people, and beggars, children on the streets, tourists, drunkards…are all main characters within his camera lens. Ronis said himself that “To me, crowds of people are much more interesting than what surrounds them, I don’t record buildings, I record the song of emotions…I don’t chase those unusual and extraordinary things and events, I only capture those we see most often in daily lives.”

Although Ronis claims that he treats every living things equally and without differences, any photo carries the photographer’s subjective opinion obviously. According to Ronis’ s works, they are divided into two categories: the first category records daily life honestly using documentary approach, where the elements of original life, noisy, rough, dysphoric, move in; the other category is a little bit higher than life–like flying in the air by slightly flapping the wings, but not far from the earthliness–is able to see the billowing human society, but the elements in the first category are weakened. Therefore, the second category of works appears to be in a higher and better realm, like the golds left after rocks and sand are elutriated, illuminating in the hands.

His Le Petit Parisien and Vincent Aéromodéliste are the examples of the second category. Le Petit Parisien is shot in 1952: A young boy bought a baguette, held it with one arm, and was running under the sunshine of May. In Vincent Aéromodéliste, a young boy was flying a paper airplane in a tranquil garden while the sunshine fell on the paper plane, making the plane become glittering and translucent, like a dream flying overhead. These works, with extraordinary harmony and tender feelings, have carried Ronis’s lifetime dreams. The world is sophisticated, however, through his works, the world is getting clear and pure in front of us. Ronis is like a fallen angel, touching the earthliness with his wings while staying away from the secularities for some distance. 

Willy Ronis was born in Paris in 1910, his father was a Jewish photographer and his mother was a piano teacher. In the 1930s, Ronis joined twice in the Air Force as an aerographer. After his father passed away in 1936, Ronis inherited his father’s job and became a free photographer. In 1957, Ronis won the Gold Award of La Biennale di Venezia (The Venice Arts Festival). After that, he had taught in Paris Public Middle School, Academy of Arts of Avignon, University of Aix-En-Provence. In 1979, he won the Gold Award of Photographing Art from the French education department. In 2008, he obtained a Honors French Army Officer Level Medal, and he died in September, 2009.

Ronis said that whether one’s life is wonderful or not is not measured by the total distance traveled, “the most charming exoticism is not necessarily in London or in Prague, it is around us, here in Paris, among the people playing belote card game in a coffee house.” Therefore, one can only understand the true essences of life if one throws him or herself into this fiery life.

Ronis’s works are always reminding us, that beautiful views can be found in every stage of life. Like within the poems, romantic scenes are beautiful, as well as those sadness, loneliness, and anacatesthesia. Enjoy all kinds of beauty in life and there’s no need to be hurry to pursue the next scene. No matter which mountain top are you standing on, there will be joys and sorrows, alternations and transformation. Thus, people who know about life will play all their cards of life with a relax attitude, instead of rushing to the next game.

Many people can never run away from others’ blame and invective just because they said something that others do not say and chose a path that others do not choose. Those who follow the mainstreams would never bear and accept the differences.

There is a type of people who always live beneath the limitations, read what they are supposed to read, say the words they are supposed to say, try their best to fit into the mainstreams, and form a point of view that thinking in their way and doing what they are doing are considered as the right thing to do. In fact, under the criticism of the world’s conventional standard, this type of people are the winners in the game of life.

However, no one cares about how these people begin living like this and how they become the models of societal mainstreams eventually. Is this the true reflection of themselves in response to the culture of the society, or are they just following the herd and wanting to become someone else? Under the influence of the mainstreams, this type of people may never have a thought that belong to themselves, listen to the voices from their hearts, and chase one of their own dreams.

“Mainstream” is a terrible word because it cannot tolerate those non-mainstream people. Most people call “mainstream” a conservative idea, but isn’t it actually exclusionism?

Xiaobo Wang, the most creative writer in China and the product of nearly half a century of Chinese misery and absurdity, was known as Chinese James Joyce and Franz Kafka. He spurned the soft, sentimental, and sycophantic tradition of modern Chinese literature and embraced the critical and imaginative spirit of Bertrand Russell. His works satirize all kinds of absurdities and miseries of our lives and are filled with imagination and fantasy while keeping part of the rationalism.

In one of his essays, A Peculiar Pig, Xiaobo expressed his feelings toward the frustrations and chagrins of his life.

Although being peculiar may bring lots of troubles and hardships, what people may get at the end will be freedom and a kind of happiness that they always wanted.

In our life, pigs are seen often and everywhere in pigsties, slaughter houses, markets, and even on our dinning tables. Pigs have left a solid impression in our mind that they only know about eating from day to night and when they are full, they sleep in the dirty pigsty. They do not care if the world is changing dramatically, nor worry about and work for the three meals everyday. What they actually care is to keep themselves fat and white, but they don’t know that’s what makes their owners happy because the owners can then sell them for good prices.

However, Xiaobo allows us to see a peculiar and surprising pig. The author describes this pig that ” it is a hog, but it is black and thin, with lights in its eyes. It’s as agile as a goat that it can jump over a one-meter-high fence; it can even jump over to the roof of the pigsty, which characterizes like a cat–therefore, it never stays in its pigsty and always hangs around,” and “Later, it learns how to scream like a siren. This ability brings it plenty of troubles. We have a sugar factory there, and it needs to sound its siren to let the workers know that it’s time to change shifts. When our team hear the siren, we will stop working and go back to the workers’ house. This peculiar hog will jump over to the roof and start screaming like the siren at 10am every morning, an hour earlier than the factory, calling back the people at work.” His writings have fully demonstrated the peculiar actions of this pig. How many people have even seen this kind of pig? I’ve never seen it before anyway.

Through the comparison of this peculiar pig and other normal pigs, a question regarding the value of life and choices of freedom is raised. The life of normal pigs is completely controlled by humans, like having babies and storing fat, which is a reflection of our own living conditions. We always live within the circles and patterns others created, for example, the working class people finish their own works and tasks according to the woking system every day. They go to work on time and then return home to spend their free time, without expressing any of their own ideas, their lives become the past eventually. Many people follow what their parents have arranged for them, from primary school, to middle school, to high school, to college, and then they start a career and build a family, completing his whole life step by step, never thinking about fulfilling a dream or being brave to achieve something they want to do. Nonetheless, many people are willing to live a normal and plain life without complaint. They do not understand how to liberate themselves, to give themselves some freedom, which is a real sadness in this society.

Think hard that why there are so many people willing to give up freedom. Because to be like the peculiar pig is difficult. We always have infinite dreams to chase in our lives, and as long as there’s a little bit of chance, we will keep adding all kinds of desires, hopes, and imaginations into our minds. This is a survival instinct, and the purpose of survival is to enjoy everything. However, no matter where you stand at the levels of life, when you are actually facing the reality of life, we always do and say things involuntarily. This is because we cannot get rid of the double pressures from both inside and outside circumstances, forcing us to do something we do not intend to do.

Perhaps all of this is doomed, that we cannot free and express ourselves, and we cannot become peculiar. We all yearn for freedom, but we all know as well that freedom can only be the ideal component of our lives, instead of waiting for us at the end of a road. Therefore, many people can only spend their lives working hard and  dreaming of freedom, while living an ordinary life.

In Vietnamese, there is an adage:  “Đi một ngày đàng, học một sàng khôn.” This saying can be translated as, in one day when one travels, one would learn a lot of wisdom. My road trips to different regions of Vietnam have helped me verify this adage as I reflected upon what I have observed and concluded throughout my journeys.

First and foremost, I have learned to appreciate the natural beauty of Vietnam. My family lives in the city, so the first thing that comes up in my mind when I think of my home country is the high apartments buildings and the symphony of exhaust smokes, motor-scooters’ honks, and the grunts of engines prolonged by traffic jam during rush hours. On the contrary, the tranquility of the lakes, the chirps of the birds, and the majestic view of the sea balance the rise of industrialization across the country. The beauty of Vietnamese nature lies in the minimum effects of humans’ activities where applicable and in the diversity of landscapes, ranging from world-famous limestone islands to sun-kissed sand dunes within a short distance of the blue ocean.

Secondly, I have been reminded of the diversity within Vietnamese cuisine. Take “phở,” for example; even though phở is universally known to be delicious, no phở shop that we stopped at throughout our trips creates the same taste of this iconic dish. The broth in the north is straightforwardly full of spices, while that of the south is generally sweeter and people can add in hoisin sauce. Moreover, the central highlands prefer phở in a different preparation method called phở khô (dry pho); in this version, the noodles are not entirely soaked in the broth. However, regardless of the differences in the way we make phở, most Vietnamese would agree that phở is one of the best inventions of all time.

Last but not least, I learned that there is no place like home. Home is my reset button, my celebration of the adventures I have been on, and my warm embrace to welcome new revelations.

One New York county has taken action in response to a public health crisis that has been developing over the past six months. Since October, 153 cases of the measles infection have been reported in Rockland County, New York, an area that shares a border with Pennsylvania. On Wednesday, March 27, Rockland County officially went in to a state of emergency and placed a ban in hopes of reducing the spread of the disease.

Measles is an extremely rare viral infection, with only 188 U.S. cases as recently as 2015. The disease, which can be fatal in young children, is easily preventable by receiving the MMR vaccine. However, according to the CDC, only 91% of children in America are vaccinated with the MMR vaccine, leaving some susceptible to contracting the infection.

Though America has previously been cleared of Measles because of high rates of vaccinations, outbursts as a result of traveling outside of the country are not uncommon. Rockland’s infections began when an unvaccinated resident returned from Israel with the disease, which spread quickly throughout Orthodox Jewish communities.

Rockland County’s ban states that unvaccinated minors are to be prohibited from visiting public places, in order to avoid the spread of the highly contagious infection. Areas covered under the ban include schools, shopping centers restaurants, and places of worship, many of which have been named exposure sites. The ban will last 30 days or until vaccinations are administered. Though unvaccinated adults are permitted to work, local officials warn against it.

County executive Ed Day believes, though the ban was somewhat unusual, it is a step in the right direction. “We must not allow this outbreak to continue indefinitely or worsen again. We will not sit idly by while children in our community are at risk.”

I stand in front of the mirror in my room, a long thing that sits on the floor and leans against my wall. I examine each and every feature of my body: my legs, my knees, my arms, my shoulders, my imperfect skin. I sometimes look for too long, and begin to exaggerate the things I don’t like, but it’s not all the ti,e I do that. I try my best to take in the best thing about each.

Even though my thighs are large, they are so because of the hard work I’ve put into dancing. They are strong and powerful, and capable of doing many things. The same goes for the rest of my body, the large parts and the small, the lean and the fat.

The most important thing about my body though is the things it represents. It represents my recovery, the fact that I no longer eat nothing or purge myself of the little that I did. It represents my strength, the amazing things I can do, the struggles I have overcome. My body does not look like that of other girls, and that’s ok.

I do not love my body everyday, far from it in fact, but on those days I try to remember the things it can do, the things it has persevered through. This is my body, and I’m stuck with it, so I might as well find the all the joy I can in it as long as I’m here. My body has been through so much, and it is still here. My skin is imperfect, but my blemishes give my face and back personality.

My legs are big for a reason, my shoulders are wide for a reason,  my feet are calloused for a reason. My body is the way that it is because it is mine, and I should appreciate that.

Mari Copeny is an eleven year old activist from Flint, Michigan. Ever since spring of 2014 when Flint’s water became contaminated (and still is today), she’s been outspoken about the crisis. The contamination of the water has caused the Flint community to experience rashes, hair loss, and twelve deaths. There is also the possibility that children will experience development problems because of the lead in the water. Mari has been doing all that she can to help solve this problem. She’s met with then current President Obama and has been responsible for giving out approximately 700,000 water bottles to the people of Flint. Mari has also started her own education nonprofit and supplied 15,000 stocked backpacks to local schoolchildren. 

Seeing a kid as young as Mari use their voice to achieve such big accomplishments is truly inspiring. The world is full of negativity, and it’s too easy to focus on. The negative news reports can be so overwhelming that the positive reports are often missed. A reminder of the good in the world is something everyone needs. Mari Copeny is a prime example of what’s right in this world, and her story can surely put a smile on anyone’s face. She’s been more generous and unselfish than most people will be in their lifetime, and she’s accomplished this all before her teen years. Mari wants to continue to use her voice, and has even said that she wants to run for presidency in 2044. Adults who believe that kids should stay out of politics have never been more wrong. 

          March, the month with no vacations and only one long weekend, has been going by alarmingly fast. When I was younger, this month used to seem like it lasted ten lifetimes. It was endless to me. Yet, this year, I find myself frantically trying to keep up with everything that’s going on. My schoolwork has been keeping me extremely busy, as well as the musical, and now lacrosse. Not only that, but I’ve also had to get ready for what’s coming up in the next few months. Studying for the SATs began a few weeks ago, and my classes have started reviewing for the upcoming A.P. tests. My time is being so consumed by all these activities that it’s almost as if I don’t have time to think. It’s like I’m living deadline to deadline. 

        Junior year, not just March, has been happening at a rapid pace. The beginning of the year seems like just yesterday. My memory has condensed homecoming, the fall play, indoor track, Action Team, Winter Carnival, lacrosse, and the musical all into about two seconds. I used to feel like I was waiting around for things to do, but now it’s like I’m running everywhere trying to catch up. I don’t know when or why this began happening, but I’ve realized I need to find some balance in my life. The trouble is that I love all of my activities, and I wouldn’t know which one to give up if I had to make a choice.