Monday, March 29, 2010

Link to My Past

Social networking websites are taking over the world. Now days most people have an account on myspace or Twitter or Facebook. It's uncommon for a person to not be involved in some form of online socialization. I find it interesting and a lot of the time I wonder just what the point is of having all of these half interactions with people online, but today I can honestly say that I really am glad, truly glad, that I use Facebook.

The reason for this is that, today I started talking to someone who I have not seen in seven years. In all of that time I have always wondered what has happened to him. I have always been curious about whether or not we would ever see each other again and what we would say to each other if we ever did get the chance. If I lived in a time or a place where Facebook had not been invented or was not accessible I would have never gotten the chance to talk to him again and I would always be left with the curiosity of what had happened to him since we were both 10 years old.

Dalton is the son of an ex-girlfriend of my dad's. To me, though, he was more than that. I don't think I ever interacted with his mom much, but during the time that our parents were together I spent every single weekend hanging out with Dalton and his older brother, Brayden. We did all kinds of things: mini golfing, going to Lagoon, playing in my Grandma's basement, swimming, bowling, etc. Name something a bunch of kids may have done with their father during the weekend and I bet we did it. There were less computers back then. I'm not talking about in the world (although that is certainly true,) I'm talking about in my life. Those days were filled with games and activities. We spent a ton of money basically every weekend, but I think we could have just as easily entertained ourselves without it.

Anyway, when my dad and Dalton's mom split up I don't think I fully realized that I would most likely never see them again. I remember one weekend after the fact when Dalton called and asked if we were going to do anything that weekend. Until this week that was the last I had heard of him. Then I found him on Facebook.

I'm glad that I am getting the chance to talk with Dalton. I no longer have to live with the curiosity of what has happened to him in the past seven years. I am happy to talk to him and see not only how he has been but what has happened to him and what he has been up to. Seven years ago we knew each other as well as any 10 year old knew another 10 year old. We were good friends. Now we are complete strangers who merely share a past. Well, I'm glad to have that link to my past.

:D

Monday, March 22, 2010

The Beginning of Something Big

So, I sat down at my laptop about ten minutes ago, determined to write something. This is what I came up with:

Do you know what it feels like to be watched by everyone you know? Have you ever felt like you had to do something, like you had to be a certain kind of person because it was expected of you? A lot of people would just chalk that up to peer pressure, but I am talking about more than that. I am not asking if you have ever felt pressured into doing something wrong. I’m asking if you know what it feels like to not know who you are because all your life you’ve followed the expectations of others.

Yes?

No?

Well, I do. For the first fifteen years of my life I only did what I was supposed to. My friends were people who I thought my parents would approve of. I took classes that would lead me toward the career they wanted for me. I only liked guys who I believe my father would like. My clothes and my bedroom constantly mimicked the tastes of my mother.

Then, one day, I asked myself a question: Who am I? When I could not even come up with an answer, I decided that it was time to change. I would no longer be the result of my family’s expectations. That was the day everything changed.

My name is Virginia Marie Atley and this is my story.

I'm not sure how much I like it yet, but I'm thinking that it is a prologue to a story that I sort of started about a month ago and am now going to try to actually do something with. The whole reason I started this piece today is that I was thinking about nicknames for the name Virginia (ever the Harry Potter fanatic, I was contemplating whether or not I liked the name Virginia or Ginevra better for Ginny,) and I thought of one that I have never really heard before but instantly loved: Vira (pronounced veer-a.)

Then I began thinking of the rest of the name and for some reason I came up with Virginia (Vira) Marie Atley. I instantly knew that this is the name that I should have been using with that character that I created about a month ago. I like it. Vira Atley just has a very nice ring to me.


On top of all of that, I was looking through some folders on my laptop today and I realized that I really don't write at all anymore. There are tons of files no bigger than 50-5000 words on my computer that demonstrate how much I loved to write when I was younger. My new goal is to accumulate more of these partially written files, because, even if I'm not finishing what I am writing, I am thinking about it. I am using my imagination when I am writing and I am enjoying the stories, characters, places, etc. that I am creating. It makes me happy.

Friday, March 12, 2010

< rant >

Last year I totaled a car that was supposed to go to my little sister as soon as my car was complete (my step dad was working on a Celica for me.) I was driving it because I had a summer class and a job and I really needed to be transported to all of those places by myself.

It's been almost a year since the accident now and I feel like I haven't done anything. All of that stress has been weighing on me and I don't think anybody realizes how much I stress about it. They joke about it and I know that it is probably ridiculous for me to still be this upset about it all but I can't help it. This is how I feel.

I feel as if for the last year I have not moved forward at all. In fact, I feel as if I have been moving backward. Almost a year ago I had just gotten hired at Lagoon. I was working on getting my driver license. I was moving forward, growing up. It was good. All through Junior High I had had to rely on my mom to take me everywhere I needed to go and I was suddenly feeling the freedom that was coming. Last June, not only did I gain that freedom but I quickly managed to lose it.

Sometimes I feel as if I am not making any progress in my life. I have all of these things that I need to do: get a job, register the van, get insurance. I tried all last summer to get a job. I tried again in October. Now that's it is time to try again I am realizing that I have more or less stood still since June. I have not done anything important. I have not done anything to rectify the events of last summer. I have gone to school. I have come home. School is the only productive thing I have been doing.

I just hate the way this whole thing makes me feel. I don't know what it is about the last few weeks, but it's like I'm dealing with it all over again. I think about the accident more and more frequently. I dream about it. I think I've imagined every other possible scenario that would have gotten me and that car home safely that day. The words that I said, the phone call to my mom, plays over and over in my mind sometimes. When I'm in a car there are moments when I have to close my eyes because of the irrational fear that I feel.

I feel stressed and I feel guilty. I feel irresponsible. I feel like I just need to find a job so that I can get my van registered and finally be able to say that I have fixed the incredible mistake that I made last June.

I know I need to get over it. I know I need to move on with my life.

I just don't know if I can until I get this mess sorted out. I need to fix this.

I just need this to be over.

< / rant >

Monday, March 8, 2010

A New Journey, A New Me

I was just looking at my blog to see what it looks like with the school internet censuring it (I gotta say, it looks pretty plain) and I noticed that since January this blog now spans four years. In reality, it's only about two and a half years, but since I started in fall of 2007 and it is now 2010, my blog archive shows writing in four different years.

I found this pretty impressive.

I know my blog posts have become very sporadic and not very interesting but I am choosing to see that as a good thing. When I started this blog I wrote things that I wanted other people to hear but did not really have anyone to tell. Back then, I wasn't so good with actually having conversations to. Part of the reason for that is that I didn't really have that many people to talk to when I was in 9th grade. Back then I believed that my friends and family weren't really interested in anything that I had to say. Or that they wouldn't want to hear me say it.

So I've decided that I am taking the lack of activity on this blog and making it a positive thing. Maybe I don't write much anymore and maybe I haven't gotten many comments in the last year but maybe that's just a sign that I have taken control of my life and my relationships and moved them outside of this virtual world that exists inside of my laptop.

There's more to that than blogging. I used to be an active member on a lot of websites. Facebook and Myspace (as well as Fanfiction.net and various other websites and forums) took up all of my time back then. I had friends from all over the country that I would get online to talk to and I would talk to them for hours. I didn't have many close friends outside of that and I didn't really talk to my family. I accused people of not knowing who I am. In reality, however, I think I was absolutely clueless about who I was.

I definitely do not have that all figured out now. I think I have a lot better idea, though. That is what is important. I have decided who I want to be. I have made connections with really great people and I have found outlets in the real world to let out my frustrations and to share my happiness. I don't know what I want to do with my life yet but I know that I am who I want to be. Like anyone, there are things that I wish were different... Or... Not so much wish, but I know that I could and will change them and that I will be a better person for it. I'm not as lost as I was in 9th grade.

About two weeks ago, Kara and I were sitting in my driveway. She was dropping me off from this luau thing I went to with her and, as usual, we were talking. Kara and I talk about anything and everything. She knows what I think and sometimes we are brutally honest with each other... Not often, because there isn't much to be brutally honest about, but it's happened a time or two. That night we were talking about some big things. There was music from her cd player (I loved Merv, but I am so glad that we can listen to music in Hercules!) in the background and when Friends Forever by Vitamin C came on she explained to me that she had made the cd for her sisters when they were graduating high school and starting college.

We listened to the song in silence for a moment and then we began talking about how this song will apply to us next year. It's all about kids graduating high school and how they may not see or speak to each other again and while listening to it I had a sudden realization. After next year I probably won't see a lot of these people that I talk to at school again. We will maybe talk a little through Facebook or other such things right after school but after a little while we will just stop talking to each other.

In junior high I used to talk to my friends about how we probably wouldn't still be friends once we got out of school (I know, what kind of 7th grader says that? I lacked some social skills,) and lately I have been talking about how much I can't wait to get out of high school and start college. Not once in all of that did I ever really realize the full extent of never seeing/talking to those people again.

It hit me while listening to that song with Kara.

Another thing that song made me think about was how different being an 8th grader almost into the last year of junior high is to being an 11th grader almost into their last year of high school. In 8th grade everyone was not nearly as focused on getting out of junior high. Back then, a year still seemed to be a long time, each week of school was daunting and the days seemed to drag on and on. Now my friends and I are getting ready to go into our senior year of high school and it seems that is a huge topic on our minds. Kara and I talk about it a lot. I think about it all the time. A year doesn't seem as long as it did three years ago. Now I get to the end of the week and I wonder where all the time went; I get to the end of the day and I feel like I just woke up.

This difference between now and then is so insane to me. Everything is different. And in so many ways now is better. There are some things about then that I would really like back, though. It seemed that it was so easy to maintain relationships with my friends. We were all in the same place and we were all going in very similar directions. Now we are all getting to forks in the road and we are beginning to split up. It's becoming harder and harder to keep up those relationships with those of my friends who are no longer going in the same direction as me. Most of my friends are no longer going in the same direction as me. We're all going different places now because we all have different goals for our lives.

It just seems unreal to me that I will lose all of these people in my daily life when I graduate. I can't imagine how things would be without them. Yet, I know that, right this second, there are people out there who are on paths that will eventually merge with mine. They don't know me yet and I don't know them. Some of them will be mere acquaintances but there are also people out there right now who will be my the best friends I will ever have.

So, I'm being optimistic today.

I may not write in blog much anymore but it is a good thing because now I have people that I actually talk to about what is going on in my head (the only bad thing about not blogging much anymore is that I haven't really been writing about what I have been reading.)

In the next year and a half, it is inevitable that I will stop talking to some of my friends. We will reach the point in our journey where our paths are completely different. However, there are people out there in the world right this moment who, though we are on different paths at the moment, will become my greatest friends and who I will form the strongest relationships with.

I like who I am and I am content with the path I am on. I know that there will be many changes both to my identity and my journey in the next few years and the rest of my life. I accept that.

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.
~Anatole France

Friday, March 5, 2010

So, I was using the ever amusing stumbleupon.com when I came across this video:


It starts off in the Himalayas and heads out of Earth's atmosphere and into space. If you have the time, I would really suggest watching it. It blew my mind. To look at the very farthest thing in space that we can see, that we know about, and view it as the same size as a picture of our planet, makes me think. Then try to picture the relative size of an atom or an electron from that.

We are all such a small part of the universe. There are so many bigger things out there; stars and galaxies, maybe there are even other universes. I don't think that any living person will ever know exactly how small of a factor we are in the grand scale of things.

It's all just so BIG!

(And yes, I did just remind myself of Bill Nye the Science Guy)

*Que theme song*

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

The Ghetto of Warsaw: A Whisper of the Past

For my US History class we have been studying WWII. We have to do a project every term that includes an essay, a visual, and a presentation. As usual, I willingly wrote the essay for my group and was pretty proud of my last paragraph. I figured that I would put it up here because I think it is the most meaningful piece I have written in a long time (at least on this blog.) So here it is. Let me know what you think.

The Ghetto of Warsaw: A Whisper of the Past

The Warsaw Ghetto, or Jüdischer Wohnbezirk (Jewish Quarters) according to the Nazis, was established on October 12, 1940, when a decree ordered 113,000 Poles to make room for the 400,000 Jews in an area of only 2.4% of Warsaw. Living conditions were incredibly poor and not many survived it. Jews had to resort to smuggling food. Councils and police forces of their own people were created to enforce Nazi regulations. In the end, when the Nazis tried to move all of the Jews out of the ghetto and into the Treblinka extermination camp, an uprising that would become the biggest single retaliation during the war began. The Warsaw Ghetto was a place where hundreds of thousands came to live and were forced into deah.

In October of 1940, thousands of Jews were brought into the Warsaw Ghetto. From that point on they were to have extremely limited contact with the outside world. Over 400,000 people had been crowded into an area that was only meant to house 160,000. As more and more time passed, the living conditions became worse and worse. On November 16, 1940 a wall, topped with glass and barbed wire, was built around the ghetto to keep them from leaving. Before then the death toll was already at 445. By August of 1941 almost 6,000 people had died.

Jews in the ghetto were given food rations that did not even fulfill 10% of what a normal person requires. This caused smuggling to start very early on. If the people living in the ghetto had not been able to get hold of outside food, they all would have died from starvation very early on. Often the smugglers were children between the ages of 5 and 6. They would smuggle the food through the walls, the gates, the sewers, houses on the borders of the ghetto, etc. The Nazis often caught and killed the smugglers but the smuggling never stopped. Even after one particular slaughter of 100 people near Warsaw, the smuggling never stopped. It was one of the most basic things that they could do in hopes of surviving.

For other issues within the ghetto, the Jews had their own councils and law enforcement. The Judenraete (Jewish Council) was first created by the Germans before their occupation of Warsaw in order to enforce German regulations. They were also in charge of handing over lists of names for deportation to extermination camps. Some were killed for refusing to do so and others committed suicide to keep from having to do it. These councils were very controversial because the people on them were forced to implement Nazi policies. It was believed by some, however, that compliance with the Germans would ensure that at least part of the population would survive. The councils were also in charge of selecting the Jewish Police.

The Jewish Police were established for four main purposes: to direct traffic in the streets, supervise garbage collection and the clearing of snow and dirt from the streets, supervise the sanitation of buildings, and prevent crime and run a court to take care of conflicts that arose inside of the ghetto. The Judenraete was given a list of guidelines from which they were supposed to recruit men for the police. However, these guidelines were not closely followed. Even though the police were supposed to be another department of the Judenraete, the councils believed that the Germans would use them in order to enforce their policies more directly.

There was a draw for Jewish men to be a part of the police, though. The Jewish Police was a protected organization. Being part of it not only was likely to keep them from forced labor, but it also made them less likely to be deported and gave them the possibility of earning food and money. In early 1942, however, the Nazis began deporting Jews from the ghetto to a extermination camp in Treblinka. When this happened many of the Jewish police had to decide whether to stay with the police or not. Many left to show their alliance to their families and the entire population as they were being deported. Still others remained with the Jewish police until the final days of the ghetto’s existence, continuing to implement Nazi demands.

The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising began on January 18, 1943 in reaction to the increasing amount of Jews that the Nazis were deporting to Treblinka. They believed that they were merely being sent to labor camps and not to their deaths. During the first two months of the extermination process, about 300,000 residents of the ghetto were killed. When the Jews realized what was going on they decided to revolt. They did not have many weapons and many did not actually fight. However, they managed to stop the deportations for a time and only 5,000 instead of the planned 8,000 were taken at the time.

The fighting commenced again on April 19, 1943. The Germans planned to finish their plan for extermination within the next three days, but an ambush by the Jews set them back once again. The Jews continued to defend their territory for ten days. In fact, two boys climbed to the top of a building and raised both the Polish flag and a blue and white banner symbolic of the fighting Jews. The Germans were unable to remove the flags for four days. On the 29th many of the Jewish leaders were dead and the rest of the fighters fled into hiding. It was not until May 8 that the Germans found the Jewish command post and killed many of the remaining fighters. Officially, the uprising ended on May 16, 1943. Gunshots were heard inside of the ghetto through that summer, however. The final fight occurred on June 5, 1943 and was between the Germans and a group of armed criminals affiliated with the Jewish resistance.

What was once the biggest Jüdischer Wohnbezirk (Jewish Quarter) in all of Europe is now nothing more than renovated buildings, a single piece of wall, and several memorials. To the uninformed eye it looks as regular as any other city in the world. Children play, people walk their dogs, cars drive through the streets. The pain, the suffering, the bloodshed, and the injustice that occurred not yet 80 years ago is now no more than a whisper in the city of Warsaw.