Danke. Gracias. Thanks.

It's the day before the fourth Thursday in November, and I have been asked to tell what I am thankful for. I could submit my thanks on Thursday at 11:59:52, which would be cutting it dangerously close. I could try and submit it on Friday at 12:01, under the assumption of "better late than never," though I know that is not the best idea. Yet, I am choosing to publicize my thankfulness, on the eve of this Thursday, at a decent hour. I am ready to let the world know now.

This past summer, I encountered an interesting situation. It happened when I was sitting high in the white, wooden stand of superiority, guarding the lives of those who swim in the quarry. It was not a busy day, a muggy Monday. There were three people wading and washing away beads of sweat. The water was a tempting sparkle of relief which lured me and the other lifeguard to take turns diving in, experiencing a sort of baptismal tranquility. I had just finished a deli sandwich: turkey, lettuce, tomato, honey mustard, and pickles on a kaiser roll. My stomach was slightly full, but I had an urge to stand at least waist deep in the water. I looked down at the view, three middle aged adults still wading. I looked on the beach.

A bronze colored child in a shiny turquoise one-piece came hurriedly hobbling towards the stand. I scrambled down the stand, as quickly as my arms and legs would allow, and met the hobbling child halfway. Her dark eyes were wide and almost saddened as I tried to figure out the problem. She's conscious. She's breathing. Breathing means a pulse. She's not bleeding. She's not crying. She's just staring. "Are you okay? What's wrong honey?" She stares, but begins
to move her arms, which move her hands to her throat. Hands clenched around throat.
Universal sign for choking. Oh god. Our father who art in heaven... No. Stop. Check for an obstructed airway. God. Oh please. DAMNIT! My first month, week, of life guarding and a little girl is choking.
"Are you choking?"
"No hablo... no hablo.."
She doesn't speak English. Oh. Well. This could complicate things.
"¿Qué pasa?!" I collect from my head.
"Yo necesito agua."
"Oh, good! Bueno. Bueno. Bueno."
"Yo tengo agua." I have water. I have water!

It was as simple as that. She was thirsty. She needed water. I climbed up the stand, more slowly this time, and came back down with a water bottle. She grasped the plastic gift and gulped down the water.

Patience is something that is required of a lifeguard. There is a lot of time to fill, and this is where an overexcited mind can go to work. I have plenty of time to think. Later that day, sitting in my place of waterfront hierarchy, I came to a realization. Communication is one of the most valuable things. This is why I strive to be tri-lingual, perhaps quad-lingual some day. I do not want language to keep me from communicating with and understanding others.

I am thankful for language and the act of communicating.

The Cycle of Poverty: Mind-set v. Inability

Poverty is defined by the individual.  One in the social upper class, attending ritzy functions uptown, in Manhattan, might consider a blue collar worker close to poverty.  A hardworking, single mother of four, working fifty hour weeks (struggling to find a can of soup for dinner), might feel bad for those living two blocks down, without a cardboard box to call their own.  One on the streets, digging through waste receptacles and eyeing potential treasures, might pray for the poverty stricken children of Africa.  According to Merriam Webster's Dictionary, poverty is defined as "the state of one who lacks a usual or socially acceptable amount of money or material possession."  This statement is general and not slanted.  It is not placing ignorant blame or pointing a lard containing finger.  No, this definition leaves the rest up to the critics.

There is an awful Cycle of Poverty which many people fall into.  A socially-economic struggling mother gives birth to two children.  These children grow up and live through the horrors of poverty.  Education is lacking--children are bullied because of poverty and do not look forward to school.  Nutrition is not necessary--the next night's dinner is of more concern.  Health care is hard to afford. Everything essential for development is scarce, causing traumatic effects on the neurological development of children.  This includes: reduction in cognitive control, memory, working memory, and language.  This does not include: psychological effects.  This makes a successful future a difficult destination.  Mortality increases.  Life expectancy decreases.  

If a child grows up poor, he or she is far more likely to fall into the evil Cycle of Poverty. 
It is not hard to follow the mistakes of a parent, or live with the result of those mistakes.  The 
outcome is often a result of mind-set or inability.  This should be carefully analyzed.

In many cases, mind-set is what keeps a person from digging out of the treacherously deep hole of poverty.  As seen in The Glass Castle, a memoir written by Jeannette Walls, some choose to stay in poverty.  Jeannette's parents did not strive to get their children out of poverty.  It was an adventure to move nomadically from state to state, in search of work or food or alcohol or patrons of art.  Rex and Rosemary Walls did not do much to change their way of living.

Inability results primarily from a disorder, disease, or disability.  Physical handi-caps often prevent a person from finding a decent job.  A sickness in a family can sweep funds out of a bank account.  Psychological disorders, such as Rosemary's depression and assumed bi-polar disorder, can dramatically inable a person.  Addiction, such as Rex's alcoholism disease, slows down any
process of escaping poverty.  

Although both inabilty and mind-set are immensely debatable, it is easy to make a distinction between the two.  If one does not have physical or psychological issues, it is because of mind-set that one remains in poverty.  Those people who are collecting welfare, leisurely awaiting a check and doing nothing else (not all do so), are at fault.  One, with no inabilities, is capable of avoiding the Cycle of Poverty if the effort is put forth.  Many children understand that there is a better world.  It is the motivation to live in this world that helps many of them succeed, possibly granting an entrance into college on a full scholarship.  Others do not have the means to escape, such as children in Darfur, and are trapped.  If the resources to eliminate poverty for a person are available and there is no inability, mind-set is the only factor holding them back.

Jeannette Walls

I thoroughly enjoyed the Glass Castle, however strange or disturbing it was at times.  It touched on many issues prevalent to society.  The biggest issue, that was carefully crafted through Walls' experiences, shows a family suffering the repercussions of an alcoholic.  She takes the reader on an incredible journey of three strong children.  It is through her story that one understands the power of perseverence, no matter how farfetched a goal may seem.

After watching the video of Jeannette Walls and her mother, I felt even closer to her story.  It was different than seeing an author of a novel for the first time.  It was seeing an author and a two characters for the first time, simultaneously.  As I watched her gestures, listened to her voice, I kept imagining young Jeannette.  Seeing the mother made the video even more powerful.  It was comforting to 
see that she was a talented artist, and I am glad that the paintings were included in the video.  
I worried throughout the story that maybe she was not talented at all.  This video reassured some details of the memoir.      
  
Walls spoke about the Glass Castle that her father wanted to build, giving the options of "another one of my father's drunk promises, or as hope for the future."  I like that she included that it was hope for the future.  Her optimistic attitude clearly shines through in this video.


Here is the link:
http://blog.turnhere.com/bookvideos/2007/06/jeannette_walls.html

Go watch it.  If you didn't read the book, I suggest doing so.  The comments of readers show how her mastery with words has influenced many. It is interesting to read the responses of people who feel that they have had similar life experiences. 
Regardless of a person's childhood, the reader should appreciate Jeannette's struggle and will to go on.

Brian Turner and Tim O'Brien: Comrades?

Brian Turner is a poet and former soldier of Iraq who expresses a feeling of connectivity towards Tim O'Brien, author of The Things They Carried. Although Turner and O'Brien fought in different wars, different decades, and different countries, it is not uncommon that Turner feels a sense of comradeship towards O'Brien. For these men, there is an incomprehensible communion that common citizens do not understand. The fact that both men are authors can bring them even closer.

Having met Brian Turner, listening to him read his poetry, I was able to glance through my imagination into his experience as a soldier. After reading Tim O'Brien's novel, I have a better sense of a soldier's perception of war. Currently, I am unable to understand what life on the front of war is like, but perhaps (one day) I will. I have no anticipation to join the military (and am quite a pacifist), but one never knows where life may lead.

I
don't.

It is through writers such as Turner and O'Brien that one begins to comprehend the things that seem out of reach.

The following is taken from an interview with Brian Turner performed by Alice James Books:

AJB: Having earned an MFA in poetry from the University of Oregon, you enlisted in the army and spent seven years as a soldier. What was the impetus for that decision?

Brian Turner: Hmmm…If we could drink a bottle of vodka and talk about this until dawn, I might be able to answer that particular question.

This response seems very much like a response that one would receive from O'Brien. Throughout the entirety of The Things They Carried, the reader witnesses his attempt to explain the inexplicable.

This draws my attention to “On the Rainy River.” In this chapter, O’Brien talks about choices. He delves into the struggle of one’s feelings and other people’s expectations. He says, “It was a kind of schizophrenia. A moral split. I couldn’t make up my mind. I feared the war, yes, but I also feared exile” (44). This use of language is incredibly honest and powerful. It is very effective that he used the word “schizophrenia”, as opposed to insanity or craziness. This use of diction is more specific than other words. Schizophrenia effects the emotions of a person, often involving hallucinations, delusions, disorder in thoughts, or muteness and a loss of normal traits. The reader can better understand how the character was feeling with this understanding of the word. There were outcomes to fear on both ends, and for this reason there is no easy answer.

Turner says later in the interview:
"While in Iraq, I felt very isolated from the relevance of what felt like a prior life. All that existed was the here and now. That said, the novels of Tim O’Brien probably held the most resonance for me."

The “here and now” that Turner speaks of was a very prevalent idea in The Things They Carried. Death was something that the men experienced all the time. As graphic, disturbing, or sentimental as death made them want to feel, they put it out of their everyday thought. It was always there, but they made light of it with jokes in order to distract themselves. If they let their thoughts of death consume them, they would not be able to function. This feeling was emphasized by the casual remark of, “there it is” (14).

The following is a poem by Brian Turner:

Click below to watch/listen to him read it!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LguxNDdyky8

Here, Bullet

If a body is what you want,
then here is bone and gristle and flesh.
Here is the clavicle-snapped wish,
the aorta’s opened valves, the leap
thought makes at the synaptic gap.
Here is the adrenaline rush you crave,
that inexorable flight, that insane puncture
into heat and blood. And I dare you to finish
what you’ve started. Because here, Bullet,
here is where I complete the word you bring
hissing through the air, here is where I moan
the barrel’s cold esophagus, triggering
my tongue’s explosives for the rifling I have
inside of me, each twist of the round
spun deeper, because here, Bullet,
here is where the world ends, every time.

This poem emphasizes how many soldiers felt or feel. There is a common belief held that soldiers are playing a game with death. "Here, Bullet," the title, is a taunting phrase. It is a way of conveying, through personification, that he wants to bullet to come to him (much like a dog). He does not wish for death, but knows that it is inevitable.

He speaks of the adrenaline rush that the bullet craves, which also represents his rush. There is a constant rush that surges through him as a soldier. Even after death, this rush remains. He emphasizes in the first line that he is only giving up a body. Just as the men in O'Brien's novel, a body was not a being. A body was just a body.

Speaking of this poem, in an article from the NY Foundation for the Arts, he says:

"Had I been killed, someone would have found a handwritten copy of “Here, Bullet” neatly folded and sealed in a Ziploc bag located in the left chest pocket of my uniform. I still don’t know if it felt more like a shield or an invitation. But that’s where the poem lived for most of the year I was in Iraq."

When I heard Turner speak at a reading, he shared this piece of information with the intrigued audience. One could view this in a morbidly depressed way, but I choose not to see it in that manner. The fact that he wrote this poem while in Iraq and kept it in his chest pocket, makes him more real and humanized to the reader. O'Brien, in comparison, used his novel to try and humanize the men of war. There is no way to humanize war, but there is a way to make those who fought in it feel closer to humanity. Both used empathy to draw the reader closer.