Rebels vs. Dreamers

 Rebels take action and dreamers just create dream. They both challenge tradion, and pursue to acheive the perfect society. They strive to reform the past and their main goal is to change. They believe in the beauty of nature, and that it should be spread everywhere. The finding of a new personal identity, because society is not letting people discover their ture identity. They behave naturally and not superficially, like children. Children act more natural, as we start to grow we try to shape our selves into society that doesn’t really make us feel happy. This my friend started as the Enlightenment period, the use of nature.


Stalin story:

Stalin had is guards stand outside his door for hours to make sure that no one would come to kill him during the night. As morning came the guards waited and waited and waited, but Stalin was 1 hour late in waking up. But the guards wouldn’t knock or come in because their orders were to remain outside and to protect stalin. they felt that if they went inside they would be killed. They spent hours wondering what happened to him, until finally one of the solidiers decided to take the risk just to knock. They yelled later “COMRADE STALIN, COMRADE STALIN, COMRADE STALIN!.” Stalin died in bed due to a severe heart attack. The lesson portrayed is that if the guards had acted naturally they could have taken action to save Stalin, and Stalin was immensly paranoid that his orders were taken in a literal sense as in not to disobey. Considering this situation, I believe Stalin could have lived longer if he had trusted his guards for the better or the worse.




A high school student entry: Grades and Test scores don’t define you.

I hate the view and the experience of college. Even though I don’t start college for a year, I honestly don’t want to go. Some people will disagree with me and be bewildered with the fact that why would you not want to enjoy the experience of college? I’m afraid. I’m afraid of losing my friends. I’m afraid that when I start college the information will go over my head. I’m afraid that if I don’t attend a university my parents will be ashamed and not be able to see my face as their child. Let me rephrase the fact, I don’t want to attend a university. I do not think I am ready to give up the high school experience which most people would yearn to give up. They choose college over high school to have freedom. Well in college no one is after your success or to motivate you unless you take the effort to care for the other person equally to you, and that my friend is only what a parent would give to you. So have the freedom, but at the same time you have to maintain the focus and determination to strive. This why I would love to chose community college right after high school.

I want to go to community college. There is nothing wrong with community colleges, why can’t I attend community college for basic classes I need to finish after high school? I feel that no one would care which college you would go to if there wasn’t such a thing as getting “accepted.” But since we are animals we have to understand that we LOVE to compete, it’s by nature. The finding of which college to go determines one’s intelligence or how well a person can play a sport or perform an art. And some people might think that I am a loser for typing this, and my GPA and test scores are not the best. You know what they might not be HARVARD QUALITY , but I have more to offer then the world then just numbers on a piece of paper. Numbers don’t define you, it’s the way you act as a person defines you. So I admit I am not ready for an university, and I don’t care if my parents are upset with my decision because at the end of the day it’s my life.

So to those people that are going to community college and are being made fun of. Just remember that many famous figures went to community college first, like our president Barack Obama. He never gave up, and that’s the important thing. Go to college when you’re ready, and enjoy the act of learning. Life is about learning, not the number you receive.


A dear diary entry: based on the movie love and other drugs.

perspective: jamie

Love is hidden by the eye, but the heart will find it. Once it hits you, happiness is always there no matter how distant one his from the other. It’s funny how we have the perception of the perfect someone, but the vision disappears when you find the person that cares for you the most. A person that can find the true meaning, heart, and soul of another even if no one else can find it.

A new year

Happy new year to the world:)

Life is about taking new chances, exploring new things, and understanding your true self.

A time to actually stick with our resolutions, and most importantly develop strong friends:)

It’s a new year

Get up and cheer

many laughs and new memories

and to forget our past worries

I promise I will be kinder to everyone

by sprending my love to anyone

I promise to strive and achieve

because I do believe

that life has many open doors

That will give me opportunities even though with chores

But I won’t give up

Because every time there is a tomorrow and a new closeup

So we should treat ourselves for 2014

By being kings and queens

To live life to fullest

To be honest and dearest.

A little rough draft, to start the new year:)





Am I an object?

A classic entry of copying the author’s style of Maxine Hong Kingston. This beautiful work of switching between the mother and the daughter conveys the true meaning of life as a Chinese woman. This creative work of art is displayed through story telling, and I have used elements of Maxine Hong Kingston’s life as well achieving an education and making a change in Chinese society.

“Put the book down,” my mother said “listen carefully and listen to what I am about to tell you.” In China my best friend strived to learn great literature. She forgot her women duties. She left her family starving and then sent to prison in the cold cell lying on the hard floor concrete, and later on killed herself falling into a well. We say that in my Chinese School there were twenty two girls but really there were twenty three. In 1924, when I got married the dream of coming to the Gold Mountain, America was flourishing- your father, and his brothers and my cherished friend’s husband all went to Cuba, New York, Bali, Hawaii; keeping the remembrance of “meeting in California next year,” always sending money to provide the family.”

I am a failure for providing for my family. My American Life has been a failure. I could not assimilate to my village. It was important to accomplish something heroic in order to not be sold when we made our way back to china. In China there was no use for little girls who ate up food and threw tantrums. I could achieve straight A’s, but I couldn’t eat them. I would hear my parents or one of the emigrant villagers say, “Feeding girls is like feeding crows.” That would make me flop on the floor and yell so hard that I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t stop. I’m not an object, I would scream. I’m not a penny that is thrown across the streets of Peiping. I’m not a feather that floats above the night between here and China. I’m not a girl. Why did I not have an egg rolled on my face when I was born like my brothers? Why did I not have a full month party for me? Why wasn’t my picture sent to grandmother when I was born? Because I’m a girl?

“I remember looking at my dear friend that day she was mumbling vocabulary; I had noticed that she had a stack of books under her bed and pillows. But I did not think, She’s ignoring her femininity of cooking and cleaning for the family you see because Chinese women have been taught to respect and complete the family’s chores for generations. No one said anything. Deep silence as she turned the pages. We did not interrupt her. What a shame. In early winter she had lost it, she spoke to us in perfect English and gained knowledge as well as a man.”

I gained knowledge and went away to college- Berkeley in the sixties- and I studied, and I marched to change the world, but I did not turn into a boy. I would have liked to graduate as a boy for my parents to welcome me with chickens and pigs like the welcoming of my brother who fought in Vietnam and came back alive. My academic achievement of receiving straight A’s was for the good of my future husband’s family, not for me. Due to my frustration, I never planned to have a husband. I would show my mother and father and the busy bodies that girls have no agenda. I stopped getting straight A’s. The act of breaking women’s tongues proved the Chinese female word for I which translates to slave.

“The village had also been seeming that my loved friend had become insane, or worse a feminist. Like a howl of the wind she dashed outside the house, a voice that blew the villagers away, stepping on the hard wooden podium like a ruler, and the hand gestures reaching to you like the act of doing something wrong. Men and Women were in complete awe, and tied their hair into bandits to arrest my loved friend. At first they yelled at her to get off, she refused. The villagers threw hard stones and rocks, but she was resistant to move. The violence continued, I ran inside the house and hearing the cheers and the point of helping her was not given a choice. Looking through the window as my husband pulled me back she was sent to the cell of evil and darkness. Do not speak of this to anyone, and give the book to your brother.”

It’s been twenty years since but I still shivered and nodded while being disgusted of the fact that no one helped the poor woman. But I will fight for her; I have joined the fight for women in China and I will live through the punishment. No mention of my mother’s dear friend was ever told. It was not the punishment of the villagers taking her away to a cell, it was the family that never stopped the villagers in taking their daughter away. My mom’s loved friend haunts me as I flip the pages of my book remembering to fight for Chinese women’s rights.

As a senior lecturer in my 80s, the spoken words from my tongue have reached thousands of people. Numerous awards achieved by me, have broken the silent spin that preservation demands; instead of holding inside the feelings, turning them into action. Becoming more than just the passing of cherry blossoms but becoming stronger. No longer just wire and bone, but flesh and heart. I don’t want to end up in a well of defeat like my mother’s best friend, not the endless circle of losing hope to achieve. This confining circle of keeping the descent line by having sons to feed the old and the dead can be crushed. The charms of the round bowls, round moon cakes, and round doorways can be opened through women’s acts of freedom.