March 18, 2010

Remembering Iz


Thirteen years ago my hero died. However, I did not know because he became my hero three years later. Walking down the sidewalk in the Californian summer, I was crying to the tune of "N Dis Life." It was the song played at his funeral, while the Hawaiian flag was lowered to half-mast, telling a tale of pure love.

"Let the world stop turning,
Let the sun stop burning,
Let them tell me love's not worth going through,
If it all falls apart, I will know deep in my heart,
The only dream that mattered had come true--
In this life I was loved by you..."

In California, I was a misplaced Hawaiian, thrust into the chaotic Mainland worries. Homework seemed pointless, cliques were aggravating, and everyone worried about outside appearances instead of being happy with themselves. They bottled their genuine feelings and hid them from the world. I was sick of it--with Iz I felt free to cry. Some people say he was larger than life, playing off his extreme obesity problems, but to me it was the truth. Even though his songs are criticized for being cliche, Life is cliche. When you love someone, you say "I love you." When you hate someone, you yell "I hate you!" Just because many people have said it before, does not make it less special or meaningful. A single voice whispering "I love you" with intense honestly is worth more than a million people rushing to get married before taking this thing Love seriously.

Iz taught me to love. And the reason a young girl was walking to Karate class, listening to her CD player, and crying in the middle of a school-free summer time is because the one person who taught her the true meaning of love had died. And she had learned three years after.

"I'm sorry!" I sputtered into my pillow, the night before, "I didn't know! Why did you have to die?" I only had one CD of his and I played it through the night, until I fell asleep and accidentally kicked the CD player off the bed.

Since then, I have never really had a hero quite like him. I do not know much about him or his life, but the connection between his voice and my soul has never faded. The sun shines in my life because of him, the snow glistens like white sand. To me, no matter where I am, I can remember his pure voice and the message he left the world, not with a physical voice but a spiritual one. It is embedded in Hawaiian culture--Nature, love, and faith. Love Nature, love thyself, love thy neighbor, and have faith. The only non-politician given a funeral at the Capitol building, Iz was larger than life, and his songs were more than just cliche words. They rung true in a world full of lies, and even a little girl knew to cherish something like that.

It is Spring thirteen years later, and I still remember Iz Kamakawiwo'ole. May you be laughing and singing up in Heaven, Iz.

March 04, 2010

Joy and Dejection Ode

There was a time, long ago
when the moon was full and the lustrous
lull of Heaven smiled down
upon me.

La luna of my dreams,
thinking back now to the nights
far gone from my memory...
She followed me through life
always fulfilling the promise to be there
unlike so many before her.
Then, on nights I could not find her
a round shadow was my comfort,
in the sky shining bright with her loving care.
No friend greater than she
I ever had--

Joy! 'til the last air we breath
is fogged with unruly hate.
Be it man or woman, there seems to be no relief
from this ache.
My friend, where are you?
I cannot see you in the sky!
Only your shadow is left to guide me, on
This night
I feel like anything is possible
and anything reality.

On the tender limbs of branches
glistens the frost of March.
Melting against the warmth of the sun, it
listens and uplifts this song:
"Lo! Tho I melt away, sunbeams are my death--
the joyous spring gives to all except for the lonely frost.
From my pain, life is birthed and animals live again.
So nice felt this day, yet some mean army heth
taken its next victim."
And the tears it leaves lie in puddles
too small for a footprint in the grass.

But, from death comes life, or so they say.
And the rainy days will freeze into Winter,
And Winter into rain!

I remember!

There was a night, long ago,
when outside my window I saw La Luna
smiling between the darts of rain.
And I joined her, my friend,
in eternal dance.
Outside, in small footsteps
I danced in the rain.

February 27, 2010

War and Terrorism

I. Origins

When in the course of human events it become necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another...

In this cold Michigan winter, it is much more easy and convenient to only care about the everyday things in life—having enough money, working, going to college, taking care of your family—that most people seem to push the broader United States picture into the foreground of their minds. Even if the curious intellectual should probe into the present historical times, he or she would be faced with terrorism, famine, a growing gap between rich and poor, and an overall pessimistic view of America's prospects.

College students have a unique opportunity. Even though we may come from poor backgrounds or farms, we are given the opportunity to learn about current times and hopefully acquire the weapons necessary to fight should our national integrity be threatened.

Estimates from the Census Current Population Survey November Supplement suggest that the voter turnout rate among young people in 2008 was one of highest recorded.

A bell in my head rings. I pick up what remains of my backpack and head out the door in a thick winter coat. It is dry and cold in Grand Rapids, Michigan. The morning cuts into my skin with the claws of an unrelenting force, and yet the sun is rising like every other spring day. Cars, truck, and buses pass by my house on Fuller Avenue as I wait to cross the street.

My life is the life of my mother before me. Like her, I agreed to going to college without any real plan in mind. Of course, I get a little more financial aid than she did, and she is much more supportive of me than her parents (my grandparents) were of her. However, standing on the sidewalk waiting for the cars to pass, and feeling the gnawing of a breakfast uneaten is something my mom remembers quite well.

At the beginning, every college student is poor.

Even if you come from a rich family that can pay for your college tuition, there is more to being poor than just monetary wealth. For the first eighteen years or so, the average American lives off their parents' income. In consequence, after so many years of being dependent, many college students remain in this mindset if they immediately transition to college without any “real life” experience.

Arriving to my Economics class after slipping and sliding in worn leather shoes, my face has been washed awake by the winter onslaught of my morning trek. I am one of the rare Juniors in a general education class of mostly Freshmen and Sophomores. I take off my coat and backpack, open my backpack, take out my notebook and pencil, and sit down.

II. Education

We are often said to be the foundation of the future—the young and bright, the knowledgeable elite that will be the law makers and providers of the next generation. Our professors, parents, and, to some extent, present policy makers have invested in this theory. Until recently, even federal support has been fair and logical.

That is, until I found through my own predicament that the world does not follow the perfect world that the FAFSA seems to outline.

In order to be independent, you must:
- Be 24 years of age or older by December 31 of the award year
- Be an orphan (both parents deceased), ward of the court, or was a ward of the court until age 18
- Be a veteran of the Armed Forces of the United States
- Be a graduate or professional student
- Be a married individual
- Have legal dependents other than a spouse
- Be a student for whom a financial aid administrator makes a documented determination of independence by reason of other unusual circumstances

When students who work to pay tuition and books, stacking up $30,000 in loans by the time they graduate, as long as their parents income exceeds the poverty line, defined by the government, a student cannot be considered independent unless he or she fits these criteria.

The Economics textbook, Wealth and Democracy, I am borrowing from the library. While opening it up and browsing the pages, the professor of the class talks about traveling abroad and learning from Europe the ways of better economy. He plays a video. I learn that the U.S., in relation to other world leaders, spends the most in military might while having a poor health care system. Seven hundred trillion dollars ($700,000,000,000) were spent on the war in Iraq while citizens in the European Union get free or low-cost health care. If their child is sick, the nearby hospital will treat him or her free of charge. I am astonished. I had known that America was not the most efficient country, but to the extent of being poor at everything except war... Then, I take my eyes off the movie and find half the class glossy-eyed or sleeping. (Yes, one guy was sleeping)

III. Government

Through ignorance and fear, the government has been leading America in the footsteps of the British empire before it. Think back to your history classes. When Britain was a world empire, it spent most of its wealth of expansion and colonization, i.e. war. The gap between rich and poor grew exponentially due to overseas trading and pirating. However, that empire collapsed due to the expenditure of resources and the weakening of colonial bonds.

I, nor my family, nor any of my friends' families, have ever been attacked by Muslims or the Taliban. Though tragic, the deaths from the bombing of the World Trade Centers numbers three thousand. 3,000 of the 300,000,000 U.S. citizens were killed that day. Yet—due to the escalating economic problem as a result of stretched resources, war expenses, and federal debt—15,000,000 citizens remain unemployed.

When I return home after classes, I am exhausted but thinking. Later that night, I get a call from my mom, who wants to know what's been going on in my life. I tell her. The car isn't working for some strange reason, and I found that the registration expired in last June. I have only rice and Ramen in the pantry. I need a job as well as volunteer hours to keep my school scholarship. I need to apply to study abroad and get letters of recommendation. But, I told her about how I learned in Economics class that the U.S. was in bad shape, and that we should do something about it.

“That's all good to a point.” My mom said, echoing motherly word of wisdom, “But, right now you should be focusing on yourself and what you want to do. When you have established a good foundation, then you can worry about the world.”


Right now, our jobs are sent to China, our wars are fought in the Middle East, and our clothes are made in Taiwan. Terrorists want to destroy the U.S. from the inside, my professor said to a class too young to understand what that means. A class too blunted by protected lives. A class too ambitious to stop and take a look around. I believe, he said, the U.S. doesn't know what war really means.

Quiz

1. What should America's future government decisions address and ultimately solve?
(Please support your thesis with examples from history)

February 20, 2010

Conversation with a Campus Safety Officer

"I forgot to tell her," I said to the Campus Safety officer as he approached out of the dark parking lot, "My homework is in my locker."

"Where?"

"On the third floor of AB." I pointed, but it wasn't necessary because the building was right behind us.

The officer was an older black man with a lazy eye that made me want to avert my own eyes while I talked to him, saying half of my replies while starring up at the sky or to the left. During our walk to the elevator, he asked me how I was doing. I told him I had been working the entire day, and I was tired. It had been a crazy day, four hundred extra people had come for the Spectrum Scholarship Competition, and as a cafeteria worker I had to feed all those people. On top of that, two people didn't show up for the night shift later that day. So, at the end of the day, already tired people who had been working all day, myself included, had to clean up the mess.

"Well, now you can relax."

I laughed bitterly and said, "Not really, I work all day tomorrow."

In the elevator he asked me what I did for fun. I said I read books. On the way to my locker he asked me if I did anything with my housemates, and I said I played Guitar Hero with them occasionally, about once every two weeks. While I was getting my books out of my locker, he asked if I needed help, but I declined the offer, hoisting the books under my right elbow and slamming the locker shut, locking it with a twist of my wrist.

"I mean, I used to be shy in college, way way back." The guy said, driving me to my house, a mile from campus, "But, if my housemates offered to go to the movies, or play video games, I would."

He seemed bent on seeing if I was like that, but I had to disappoint him. I told him I was one of those people who could have fun by themselves. What he didn't know was what I was telling myself.

Of course, I have more fun when I am with my friends.

However, I didn't tell him that. I did tell him that all my friends either live out-of-state or are going to different colleges across the state. I told them they all graduated or transferred. Right now, I just didn't have anybody to hang out with. Oh well, sometimes life's that way...

He dropped me off at my house, and I said thanks, "have a great night!" I shut the van door. The house was dark, and I didn't have my keys. I tried the front door, knocked a couple times, and then went around to the side door. It slid open. I kicked the snow off my shoes as I entered and closed and locked the sliding glass door. No one was home on a Saturday night.

I sighed. Back to homework, back to forcing words out of my brain and onto a page of paper, back to the grinding stone--back again. Here in my room, my refuge and my prison, a constant struggle of independence in a social vision.

My feet ache as I take off my shoes, but I change out the cat litter, pour water for the cats, and clean up the dirty clothes that are scattered around my room before I sit on my bed. I am tired, frustrated, and alone.

February 12, 2010

American Blues (song)

Yes--it's a song! Not only am I attempting at poetry, I am also inspired to write lyrics to a tune that popped into my head, called "American Blues." I love my Economics class, I dedicate this song to Professor Robertson, who has achieved what all great professors by getting his class to think outside the box.


American Blues

Walking down the street, feeling like you can't breathe--
and now the world collides.
Knowing now the darkness might never go away,
transforming somehow alive.

The sweet ol' American Blues!
Help! Help!
with my tainted American Blues
Help! Help!
can't shake the American Blues
Help! Help!
bought from the power to choose...

You sit there in your room, life draining awa-ay
"Fuck class," you say, "it's just another day," paying rent on minimum wa-age.

What's the point to learn?
When others seem to earn without single thought in their minds
What's the point to school?
When others seem to think that their beyond the rules.

Damn you American Blues!
Help! Help!
$30,000 American Blues
Help! Help!
Education down the tubes
Help! Help!
we all have the right to lose...

You sit there at your job, pour more coffee-eee,
"Why I am I still here?" Been working for years-yet Boss doesn't see-ee

What's the point to work?
When others are jerks while getting better wages
What's the point to money?
When businesses are all acting funny--I think

Corrupted American Blues
Help! Help!
Runnin' the race for few,
Help! Help!
How can those lies be true?
Help! Help!
sometimes I think it's all for You...

For You...

Saw a girl on the street,
staring at the concrete,
feeling like she can't breathe...

Now.


And it's been recorded, YES! Don't get too excited, I sung it and I don't have a very good singing voice. But it sounds like the way it should. I'll see if I can upload it. It has a fan in it...I don't like being video taped...Sorry! But enjoy my ceiling!