Revision of Personal Experience

After a bumpy flight filled with my anxieties of the unexpected, my over-packed suitcase and I piled onto a bus and began to drive through the beautiful countryside. I had woken up that morning in the comfort of my own home, and now was anxiously anticipating what was to come as I began my mission trip to El Salvador. I had imagined the country of El Salvador to be dry and desolate filled with nothing but stray animals and littered trash. However, whether I liked it or not, I was now rolling along the curvy roads of El Salvador where I would be working to build a high school for the next week. Looking out the window at the miles of nothing but green pastures and beautiful mountains, I decided maybe this place was not so bad after all. “We are here!” As our 18-passenger bus with its folding seats trudged up the unpaved hills of El Salvador, my attitude from earlier that morning began its 180-degree turn.

On my first day of work in the small town of Copapayo, El Salvador, I encountered a multitude of kind and welcoming faces. However, one in particular caught my attention. His name was Alexei. Alexei came to school everyday dressed in the same clothes as the day before, and the same broken sandals to attempt to protect his feet. Alexei and I first connected on the soccer field as we worked together as teammates to score on a goal made from two pieces of trash. We spent hours passing the soccer ball back and forth, dancing to Latino music, and eating tortillas quickly building a strong foundation of friendship. Of course our conversation consisted of no more than my few butchered attempts to say "Hola! Como estas?" followed by his returned looks of confusion and laughter, yet we still developed a tie of genuine bond.

On our last day of work in El Salvador, I said a sad good-bye to Alexei after the party we threw for the students at the school in Copapayo. About ten minutes later, I saw a familiar face wandering back to the worksite. It was Alexei again. After making friendship bracelets for one another out of some old yarn, we said a second round of farewells and parted ways. Yet after another hour, as our group began to board the bus to leave Copapayo, I looked up one last time. Alexei stood standing on that same soccer field where we had first met. Running up to me and planting a kiss on my cheek, he and I shared a tearful last "adios," for the third and final time. This bond between Alexei and me was a tie that would last forever. Though I knew I would never see his face again, he impacted me in many ways, and taught me the value of life comes not from material wealth, but from relationships and personal experiences.

As I arrived back at home the next week, I no longer found myself dwelling on the comforts of my own home as I had done early that morning of my departure, but instead found myself looking at those "comforts" of my own life with new eyes. Compared to the cardboard boxes I had seen families like Alexei's live in, my own house was a mansion. To their three daily tortillas, our refrigerator was overflowing. Coming back that third time to say good-bye, Alexei was my reminder of what genuine happiness looks like. Though Alexei and I were faced with cultural, lingual, and economic barriers, his passion and love of life inspired me to live a more wholesome life such as his. While I was a 16 year old girl with a closet full of shoes and a drawer full of shorts, this nine-year-old boy, with holes in his shoes and a single pair of shorts to wear for his every day, was never seen without a smile on his face, illuminating life's light.

In our world today, we are held to a certain standard of perfection, in which it is easy to forget the element of truth and substance in life. Embedded into the heart of the American consumer based society, we are told what clothes to wear, what food to eat, and how we should live, assuming the attainment of these things will result in happiness. In an endless chase for achievement and success, we find ourselves entangled in the materialistic web spun by society's spider, having lost sight of life's true meaning. Can we even begin to fathom life as Alexei, with hardly any money, a single outfit, and the same food everyday, and at the same time imagine happiness? After my cultural exchange and witness in Alexei, I found my eyes had been reopened to a new perspective on life.

Setting an Example

On November 27, a little over a week ago, Tiger Woods’ Escalade was found crashed in the middle of the night. It was later unveiled that he has multiple mistresses, and his wife had been using his own golf clubs violently against him hitting his car.

As Hollywood celebrities tend to frequently make bad impressions of themselves by their actions and poor decisions, it is always more frustrating to me to see professional athletes fall under this category. People all over the world, especially children and aspiring young adults, look to athletes as role models. Of course everyone sees celebrities as stunning and fascinating, but people find athletes to be inspirational and hard-working, as many times these athletes have come so far to stand where they are today. When outstanding Olympic Gold Medalist swimmer Michael Phelps was publicly displayed smoking marijuana, it ruined this image of a driven and unwavering young man, who put everything into his career, as most people saw him.

These athletes such as Tiger Woods and Michael Phelps are obviously famous worldwide. In their performance and lifestyle, they know that with fame comes publicity, as well as responsibility. Thousands of people look to them as powerful examples in life, yet they lead lives with drugs and sex scandals, and therefore ruin their reputations. It is an honor to achieve such a high recognition in life, and an honor to be admired so immensely. Therefore I think that professional athletes should be much more careful about the decisions they make and the lives they lead, as they are providing examples to so many.

Laptops or Paper?

“Mom, I want to switch schools,” I said one day after coming home with news that our sister school would be implementing a new personal laptop program for its students. At my school, we had many computer labs and portable carts in classrooms with the newest version of the Apple laptop, but that was not enough. I wanted to take one home with me and have one with me at all times, and now that some of my friends at our rival school would have them, I was very bitter towards my own school.

However, that next year as my friends from the neighboring school began their new program in which math problems and note taking were all completely on a Dell notebook, they all also began to spend much time waiting in the school’s technology office or crying that all of their work had somehow been deleted due to technical malfunctions. As I heard horror stories of losing 10 page essays and having computers die while taking an online test, I became much less jealous of their computers.

Research has proved that when students write things down on paper, information usually stays in the brain longer and clearer than when written out on a computer. The technology of the world today is indeed greatly advanced and has enhanced our world in more ways than we can imagine, but I believe that in high schools, the best way to infiltrate a strong curriculum and provide a firm foundation of education is to maintain the old-fashioned pen and paper route. Of course the utilization and introduction of new educational technology for certain circumstances is definitely beneficial when it comes to projects and teaching methods, but when taking notes, solving equations, taking tests, or even writing in-class essays, I believe that using pen and paper not only avoids all technological problems, but also enhances learning.

The United Nations and Genocide

I am going to blog about the United Nations’ definition of genocide, in relation to the genocides taking place currently in Darfur, Rwanda, and Sudan. As there are over 1.8 million lives that have been displaced in these nations, the United Nations continuously has refused to act upon this injustice.

This is a good topic as it brings a silent issue which goes unspoken of to light and instigates awareness among the world. I have been interested in this topic for many years after hearing about this issue in a Global Issues class. This topic would be intended for an audience of anyone unaware of this problem, and those who would maybe become involved to speak out. I have read about many instances of mass murders and brutality towards groups of people, all demonstrating the extremity of these genocides. However, unless recognized by governments across the world, these silent killings will continue.

Whistle While You Work

Last night as I was leaving the SMU Dedman Recreational Center after participating in an Abs class, I was asked to take a survey on the effect of music and exercise. As one who never works out without her iPod, I continued to circle all the answers favoring exercising with music. Questions such as “Do you think listening to music increases the intensity of your workout?” and “Does listening to upbeat music vs. slow tempo have an effect on the pace at which you exercise?” were included in this survey.

As I completed the survey, I indeed realized how dependent my exercising intensity is on my music. Without my “running” playlist on my iPod filled with upbeat and fast tempo music, I am completely incapable of working out to my potential. If I forget my iPod, or if the battery were to die mid-work out, I completely lose my drive. Whether it is the fact of the sole concentration on my tiredness or pure boredom, I came to the conclusion after my survey that I rely heavily on music to keep my intensity level high during my workouts.

More Than Mere Entertainment

Whether it’s fighting war, stealing cars, or shooting guns, in the gaming world of today, we must ask ourselves, when does the violence in today’s video games go from being innocent entertainment, to a violent brainstorming? As video gaming systems such as Xbox or Playstation have become more and more graphically and technologically advanced, the subject matter and challenges induced through them have also become more and more disturbing.

Children at a very young age are now coming home immediately after to school to sit in front of the TV and play the latest version of Call of Duty, a video game in which one participates in a war-like setting killing opposing soldiers, and Grand Theft Auto, where cars are stolen. In many of these particular games, such as Call of Duty, explicit violence and graphics are displayed including blood and brutal murders.

I think that the parents of today, in partnership with today’s media and entertainment companies, need to realize that the violence kids are surrounding themselves with through these video games is seriously influencing their futures. Children are no longer reading or spending time outdoors, but are wasting hours vicariously living through stimulated violent scenes, while at the same time we face a rapidly growing crime rate. Though some parents and gaming professionals may justify these games to provide nothing but mere entertainment, how can participating in these sorts of activities be healthy for growing children who are molded by their environment?

Reopened Eyes

It was 4:56 AM, the sky was pitch black, yet my eyes were open due to the loud beeping of my alarm clock. Why was I waking at this hour in order to travel to a third-world country where all I would have as food were beans and tortillas and the showers were cold? My parents had signed me up, against my will, to go with my youth group on a summer mission trip to El Salvador, and the dreaded day had come to depart. I could hear my mom shout from downstairs, “Elizabeth! You are going to be late!” I was more than content in my own bed, with the food in my refrigerator, and the availability of as many hot showers as I desired. Again, my ears burned as I heard my mother’s words, “We are leaving in fifteen minutes!” I imagined the country of El Salvador to be dry and desolate filled with nothing but stray animals and littered trash. However, whether I liked it or not, in just a mere two hours, I would be on a plane to San Salvador working to build a high school.

After a bumpy flight filled with my anxieties of the unexpected, my over-packed suitcase and I piled onto a bus and began to drive through the beautiful countryside. Looking out the window at the miles of nothing but green pastures and beautiful mountains, I decided maybe this place was not so bad after all. As our 18-passenger bus with its folding seats trudged up the unpaved hills of El Salvador, my attitude from earlier that morning began its 180-degree turn, opening up to a new outlook on what might be in store for me through this experience that I had originally been so unwilling to accept.

On my first day of work in the small town of Copapayo, El Salvador, I encountered a multitude of kind and welcoming faces. However, one in particular caught my attention. His name was Alexei. Alexei came to school everyday dressed in the same clothes as the day before, and the same broken sandals to attempt to protect his feet. Alexei and I first connected on the soccer field as we worked together as teammates to score on a goal made from two pieces of trash. We spent hours passing the soccer ball back and forth, dancing to Latino music, and eating tortillas quickly building a strong foundation of friendship. Of course our conversation consisted of no more than my few butchered attempts to say “Hola! Como estas?” followed by his returned looks of confusion and laughter, yet we still developed a tie of genuine bond.

On our last day of work in El Salvador, I said a sad good-bye to Alexei after the party we threw for the students at the school in Copapayo. About ten minutes later, I saw a familiar face wandering back to the worksite. It was Alexei again. After making friendship bracelets for one another out of some old yarn, we said a second round of farewells and parted ways. Yet after another hour, as our group began to board the bus to leave Copapayo, I looked up one last time. Alexei stood standing on that same soccer field where we had first met. Running up to me and planting a kiss on my cheek, he and I shared a tearful last “adios,” for the third and final time.

As I arrived back at home the next week, I no longer found myself dwelling on the comforts of my own home as I had done early that morning of my departure, but instead found myself looking at those “comforts” of my own life with new eyes. Compared to the cardboard boxes I had seen families like Alexei’s live in, my own house was a mansion. To their three daily tortillas, our refrigerator was overflowing. Coming back that third time to say good-bye, Alexei was my reminder of what genuine happiness looks like. Though Alexei and I were faced with cultural, lingual, and economic barriers, his passion and love of life inspired me to live a more wholesome life such as his. While I was a 16 year old girl with a closet full of shoes and a drawer full of shorts, this nine-year-old boy, with holes in his shoes and a single pair of shorts to wear for his every day, was never seen without a smile on his face, illuminating life’s light.

In our world today, we are held to a certain standard of perfection, in which it is easy to forget the element of truth and substance in life. Embedded into the heart of the American consumer based society, we are told what clothes to wear, what food to eat, and how we should live, assuming the attainment of these things will result in happiness. In an endless chase for achievement and success, we find ourselves entangled in the materialistic web spun by society’s spider, having lost sight of life’s true meaning. Can we even begin to fathom life as Alexei, with hardly any money, a single outfit, and the same food everyday, and at the same time imagine happiness? After my cultural exchange and witness in Alexei, I found my eyes had been reopened to a new perspective on life.

The Text of Today

September 3, 2009

In today’s world, where can we go without seeing the thumbs of everyone around us typing madly away on the newest iPhone or blackberry? As a college student surrounded by people as well as the latest technology, I begin to wonder while eyeing the boys and girls attached to their phones as I walk across campus, is there a growing gap between genuine communication and our generation?

Fifty years ago, if conversation did not take place face to face, letters or even telegrams were sent to convey a message. Now, a letter is a last means of communication, and even phone calls are beginning to become things of the past due to the immense popularity of texting, Twitter, and Facebook. Telling a story through text message, or learning of someone’s activities from his or her recent posts on Twitter, the aspect of personal contact becomes lost, as text simply cannot replace the intimacy of human conversation. Though all of these methods of communication are illustrations of the increasingly improving technology of today, isn’t there still a lacking element when it comes to the way we communicate with one another?