Front Door Phobia

“Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” draws a parallel to the dangers experienced in our world. In a place known for an abundance of freedoms, teenage girls are especially prone to meeting extremely creepy people on the streets. When adolescent girls try to dress past their age in provocative clothing on a daily basis, it’s pretty much screaming “easy target” for predators.

In this story, Connie is just another girl covering her insecurities and innocence with her outward appearance. This draws the attention of a middle-aged man who covers his age by trying to fit in with the younger crowd. He also seems to know everything about Connie and her family. When he arrived outside her home and she was all alone, I knew Connie was in trouble. As I continued to read, I became more disturbed by Arnold Friend’s actions. My fear came partly from what Arnold was saying, but I think I was more personally jarred because it was all too similar to reality. I believe that was the motive of the author in making the situation familiar to the stories we hear in the news or what is portrayed in the media.

I’ve always lived in apartments, so when I moved to Kentucky, living in a house was a first. After two years, I’ve gotten a bit used to it, but when I’m home alone and it’s pitch black outside, I’ll feel a fear rising in my throat. (Maybe it’s because there was once a shirtless man running around the neighborhood ringing people’s doorbells- that was definitely creepy on many levels). I’m always wary of answering the door when I’m alone because of stories such as these. “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” takes a hold of these fears that I and other readers may have and twists our stomachs in a way that makes us sick. Connie is just another materialistic girl, while Arnold (our very close Friend), is just another rapist that we unfortunately have in our society. These similarities make Connie’s experience all too real and familiar to us.

Even the title, in my opinion, sounds like a predator asking a bit too inquisitively about his or her victim’s life and whereabouts…in a very stalker-like way.

An Outsider

There was extremely little insight into the characters of "Hills Like White Elephants." The names were relatively unknown, and the topic of the conversation was vague and confusing to deconstruct. I felt like I was eavesdropping on a couple talking about very personal matters (and indeed they were). This style of portraying a conversation left the reader uncomfortable with the story: it didn't seem right to continue to listen. I'll admit that I was bored in the beginning- a story with no known subject was like a book without its binding. It was loose and there wasn't anything to hook the reader in other than sheer confusion. To add on to the objective point of view, quotation marks were completely left out. This choice was most likely done to mask further the identity of the characters. It was difficult to pull apart who was speaking and I had to infer that the dialogue was going back and forth between the couple. Usually when dialogue is included in a story, the indication of the characters talking and the quotation marks give clues to the readers that they are listening to the conversation on a more personal level. Leaving out these cues distanced the readers and made the readers feel out of focus. For me, it felt like viewing the world half-blind.

The True Lesson

Some people take for granted what others could never have. The poor and the wealthy are in two completely different worlds. Those in poverty cherish every single penny, hoping loose change will add up to the cost of their next meal. On the other hand, affluent people indulge themselves often, usually buying things that are unnecessary. The middle class is the only group of people that could possibly begin to understand the lives of these opposing people. The middle class understands what it's like not being able to afford something, or always having to save money. They also know what it's like to have a couple splurges in life. Now, if only those at the very top of the mountain could take a look at those at the bottom and help them, and those at the bottom could find the motivation to climb to the top.

In "The Lesson", by Toni Cade Bambara, Miss Moore hopes to instill some determination into the kids. She brings them to Fifth Avenue- home of the high-end stores- and the children are eager to look around. They see many items they would love to have, but one look at the price tag both shocks and confuses them. Why would anyone ever buy a toy sailboat for over $1000? This, in my opinion, is exactly Miss Moore's point. There are so many items that the children want but can't afford, so the only option is to work harder and earn a position that allows such indulgences. Silvia, the narrator of the story, is visibly angered by the trip, but she misunderstands the purpose of it. She thinks that Miss Moore brought them there to remind them of their impoverished states. However, the purpose was more likely to give them a drive to climb up the social ladder.

College

It's a subject that we fear, yet sends tingling feelings of excitement when we think about it. During our "rebellious" stage, college is the greatest step towards independence. But personally, all the little steps we've taken are overwhelming. It seems like once we stepped into the realm of school, beginning with preschool, our primary focus had been on academics.

At least for me, that is how my school years have been. Trips to the bookstore were always for practice books in the core subjects, and always a grade or two above the current level. To my parents, short stories were a waste of time- non-fiction books, especially those in the sciences, were far greater than the fantasy books I wished to read. This probably later hindered my creative abilities in writing. My writing tends to be straightforward and I tend to rack my brains hopelessly for sentences that come off as somewhat creative.

Starting from third grade, my parents placed me in prep classes that I would go to on Saturdays after Chinese school. I started dreading the one day that others found to be the most relaxing day of the week. Interestingly, but probably not surprisingly, the classes were mostly full of Asian kids...I wonder why -.-. I'll admit that the classes were helpful, but it just added to the work being put into school. I still believe academics should be the first priority, but I always wonder how my life would be different without all those classes.

All of this just places an even greater amount of stress on the college process. To think that all the work I've done in and outside of school to come down to a couple applications is downright scary. Really scary. Let's just hope I survive :)