April 22, 2008

heros...

Beth Berila is my newfound role model. I did an interview with her earlier this month, and her passion for her work, and for her life simply radiated from her. She inspired me to be passionate about my own life, and the things that I live for. She spoke about how struggling and learning is part of the process in achieving any goal that we set for ourselves goal.
I admire her strength and her intelligence.

February 19, 2008

Reframings Reflection

Every artist has a message. Every artist uses communication to inform others of SOMETHING. It could be anything, an emotion, an idea, and movement. "Reframings" was one big book of messages in which artists communicated their views on feminism. All of the artists had several things in common. Using the media, each artist used their work to communicate what the feminist project is. Using art forms such as photography, including pin hole, regular, print, etc, as well as quilts, collages, or even layering each artist spoke through their work.
Art is a form of communication. In this case, it all spoke of culture differences, social and racial segregation, and in some cases showed me how violent history was to women, but more importantly, that it still is, I believe that each person interprets forms of communication a little (or sometimes very) differently. Because "Reframings" was filled with different type of art, I had the opportunity to interpret and define the message in my own way. Some artists had created something that I easily understood such as the Asian American identity section. Growing up, I've come to look less and less Asian, but as a young child I tended to identify myself as Asian. Japanese was my first language. My mother's language. The "Admit One" photograph reminded me of an almost identical photo that I have, somewhere hidden in my parent's house. I was smiling in my Japanese-esque outfit surrounded by my classmates, and it wasn't until that I received the photo back that I realized how different I looked from everyone else. Not only did this artist have a struggle with race, but also a struggle with gender. It's like a two slaps of segregation on the face. "The Oriental female" was always one my mother fought. A) Like Rachel said in class, rugs are oriental. My mother's not a damn rug nor am I. B) what exactly is meant by "female"? In this case the implication was someone weak. Someone inferior. Someone who is unknowledgeable. But look at any of the artists within the book. Look at any woman on campus. Look at my mother. Look at me. Reality has the ability so knock that implication on its ass.
This book hit a personal key within my head. I get it. And I like it...

Continue reading "Reframings Reflection" »

February 11, 2008

Weak Monster

Something incredibly terrible happened to someone close to me over the weekend. Someone took one look at my beautiful friend and decided that they had to have her. No matter what. One drink and one rufi later, my friend woke up in hell on the cold floor of a strange bathroom. naked. afraid. alone. with no memory of how she got to where she was.

she was moved from the floor to HCMC.

from HCMC to her mother's arms.

she's still breathing. her heart beats on. she is able to speak. able to still smile. but my fear is that the confusion, the terror and the pain will break from the dam that she has created within her mind.

and i've never been so fucking pissed off in my entire life.

She looked at me this morning asking if this happened to her because she was a girl. Because she had boobs. Because she was female.
I didn't know how to answer at first.
I still don't.
"weak monster"
That's all I can think of.
Later, I brought her to a public area where an asshole of a cop could question her to begin the investigation. He walked his cocky self in a stood at the table that we were sitting at. Shaking, my friend spoke,
"Could you sit down please? You're making me nervous by standing there"
"Well I want to know what I'm here for first" he replied in a stern you're-wasting-my-time voice
It wasn't until she described what happened until he finally sat down.
And it wasn't until she started shaking AND sobbing that he believed her.

"Next time," she said, "I'm requesting a female cop."

My mind is perhaps to clouded with emotions to express myself at the moment. Maybe I'll add more later. As for right now, I'm taking a walk.

February 5, 2008

Thought process #1

Looking back I wonder when it was that something in me transformed.
Who exactly am I?
I was born in Nagasaki, Japan in 1985. I grew up with two languages in my head. I grew up with an urban bred Japanese mother and a I-Wish-I-Was-A-Farm-Boy father. I learned how to tie a kimono and drive a four wheeler.
But I never really thought about it:
I am a girl.
But how "girly" am I?
I think I have this image of a girl in my head that I have been completely terrified of for a long time.
She's polite. She's pretty. She's smart. She's neat. She's fashionable. She knows how to talk to men. She's incredibly feminine and she pisses me off.
I'm loud. I'm messy. I'd rather wear sweats all day and I'd rather learn about cars than learn about clothes.
I like loud thought-provoking music. I like sitting around nerding out on the internet rather than shopping. I like action movies more than chick flicks and I am now beginning to understand what my boyfriend in high school meant when he said, "you're just not like the other girls" and broke up with me. Because he's right. I'm not.
And I think that scares me. A lot. But not enough for me to change.

January 28, 2008

Week 1

It's actually the beginning of week two, but being the procrastinator I am, I'm writing about the first week, of Spring Semester 2008 at the beginning of the second week.
Part of me is in disbelief that I have been here for this long. I'm finally a senior in my last semester.
It's also a terrifying reality check. Yet I'm still excited about it.
So here I am. Taking a bunch of required classes in order to graduate...except for this one. I always pick one random class. One class that detaches me from the Child Psychology world for a few hours and one that also ties me to a different kind of reality.
I think it keeps me balanced.
Feminist media is a new thing for me and it excites me a great deal. I am not sure exactly what to expect, but I think I prefer it that way. In my psych classes there are ongoing and never-ending discussions about the influence of the media on children. This includes the good, the bad and then goes into depth of how “good? and “bad? labels are defined. Can the media impact the outcome of a child? Who knows. While I am looking forward to gaining new perspectives as well as new ways to think analytically, I am slightly more interested on what kind of impact the media has on me. How will this course change the way I think about what I watch? How will it change the way I think about myself? Will it change the way I think?