The Many Feelings of Heartbreak, Loss and Solitude

Description: Some may say that love is the most powerful force there is, but what about the opposite of love? Heartbreak: possibly one of the worst and most devastating feelings in the world, both physically and emotionally. And what about two other things that leave you in extreme emotional pain: loss and solitude. Everyone has or will suffer and go through heartbreak, loss, and solitude at some point, and especially poets, which are able to notice this in their lives and get inspired on these powerful causes. Yes, all of these are devastating and would leave many destroyed, but there are many ways to interpret heartbreak, loss and solitude...

Synopsis: Poets are able to capture and interpret the many painful moments of life and convert it into beautiful art work in their own way based on their feelings towards it

Poetry: 

• Alone by Maya Angelou
• One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
• If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
• When We Two Parted by George Gordon Byron     
• I Do Not Love Thee by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
• I Am by John Clare   
• He Would Not Stay For Me, And Who Can Wonder by A. E. Housman
• Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox 
• Alone by Edgar Allan Poe 

He Would Still Be Alive

Do you think it’s fair to be judged only because of the color of your skin or you your religion? Certainly not. You might think that nowadays, racism and prejudice don’t cross peoples’ minds as it did before, but you would be surprised with what these things still lead people to do.   

17 year-old Trayvon Martin wasn’t showing any kind of threat, however, this black, young man was shot and killed when walking back from a convenience store on the night of February 26, 2012 in a community in Sanford, Florida. George Zimmerman, who was the volunteer neighborhood watchman (with no training) at the time, was the causer of this horrific murder. He claims that he shot Martin in self-defense and that the he was wearing a hoodie and looked “suspicious”. Zimmerman says this boy was “up to no good” and followed him, while all that this teenager was carrying were a bag of skittles and a bottle of iced tea, and he was unarmed. Worst of all, Zimmerman hasn’t been arrested for his actions and he truly deserves to be.       

Prejudice can lead to injustice because once you have an unfavorable opinion about someone or a race itself it can lead you to treat that person unfairly without you even realizing; this case can certainly prove it.  Not every black man who’s walking at night, wearing a hoodie is a thief and neither is dangerous- we experience Trayvon Martin being the victim of a murder because of this exact kind of prejudice. Prejudice is just a sign of ignorance and Mr. Zimmerman proved to be a very ignorant and racist person. When someone is taught or used to judge based on other peoples’ opinions, they can’t make fair judgments. Most likely, George Zimmerman has always been a racist man even though his father sent a letter to the Orlando Sentinel declaring that his son wasn’t at all racist: "George is a Spanish speaking minority with many black family members and friends. He would be the last to discriminate for any reason whatsoever."    

"A black person in a hoodie isn't automatically 'suspicious.' Let's put an end to racial profiling!" Occupy Wall Street posted on its website… I bet that if Martin had been wearing expensive clothes instead he would have been “less suspicious”; what would you have done in Zimmerman’s case?

The Million Hoodie March was a protest in Union Square, New York, in which millions participated in favor of George Zimmerman’s arrest for the killing of Trayvon Martin. This millions of individuals were marching in remembrance of this innocent boy and in solidarity for his family. I believe that individuals have a responsibility to protect the innocent because then no one will and they would suffer. There are sometimes when you just know that protecting someone innocent is the right thing to do. The innocent and helpless-in this case Trayvon- are the ones who will be exposed to the dangers and prejudice of society because they have no way of defending themselves, sometimes; moreover, they have a tougher life. Trayvon is not alive anymore, but by this march in his honor many people are protecting him in a way. 

I can relate this to Atticus defending Tom Robinson’s case in To Kill A Mockingbird; I still don’t know much about what he is defending him of but he makes us see that Tom is innocent. He says that he has to help this black man; otherwise, he couldn’t be able to stand up for himself; he is sure that this man is innocent and that he is doing the right thing. It is his responsibility to protect this black man.

Nevertheless, another way that society can help the innocent is just stop being discriminative and racist. Now it’s Zimmerman who has triggered this whole commotion and people have started protesting on how society won’t get better. But it will get better if one by one, we stop being so prejudice because this is something that we all do. No one really understands why but its just one of the ways people function- we are always ready to judge and criticize. We all fear what we cannot understand: prejudice. It’s impossible to understand this kind of stereotype and racism that is abundant in our lives; yet, we all fear that something like what happened to Trayvon might happen to anybody else.    

 Gender stereotypes can absolutely influence people’s behavior towards a person. I believe it’s mainly if you’re a woman, you-can’t-do-as-much-as-men kind of stereotype. In this case, I’m sure that if it had been a woman with a hoodie instead of Trayvon, Zimmerman wouldn’t have been so prejudiced and wouldn’t have shot the “suspect” because of her gender. All I really know is that if George Zimmerman had followed 911’s instructions to leave the boy alone, and if he hadn’t been so prejudiced Trayvon Martin would still be alive.          

We Were So Close!

I awoke that morning and thought the world was endin’- it was a bizarre thing that it would snow in Maycomb County. Mr. Avery said that when children didn’t obey their parents, the seasons would change and Jem and me felt guilty for being the reason of winter in the middle of autumn. Since it was the coldest weather since 1885, we didn’t go to school that day. It was amazing to see snow for the first time, but I was freezing and missed the usual sweltering heat.

            Jem told me not to walk about in the snow so much or I would waste it, so I was meticulous because we really wanted to do a snowman. Jem had an idea: we could go walk in Miss Maudie’s yard and waste her snow instead. Dissension existed between Jem and Miss Maudie –while Jem said the snow was beautiful, she said it wasn’t because it would freeze her azaleas. She told us we could take all her snow since it was freezing her plants. Jem went to Miss Maudie’s back yard and collected baskets of dirt and snow, which was kind of a mess. I thought it wouldn’t work but he took handfuls of dirt and built it into the body of our nigger snowman. It looked like Miss Crawford but he continued his plan. He suddenly said, “Mr. Avery’s sort of shaped like a snowman, ain’t he?” We conspired to make a Mr. Avery snowman; he grabbed snow and put it on the mud, letting me only cover the back. Then we added eyes, nose, mouth, and buttons, and a stick of stove wood to make him look cross.

            When Atticus got home, he lionized Jem and admired our creation, but then obligated us to disguise the fellow because it was wrong to make caricatures of the neighbors. In the afternoon it stopped snowing and I went to sleep with coal on the fire in my room; it seemed like a long time had elapsed when Atticus woke me up. I interrogated him –trying to figure out what was the matter. I then assimilated that something was wrong in our neighborhood: Miss Maudie’s house was on fire! We did as told, and Jem and me walked towards the Radley Place, leaving behind the calamitous scene. We saw as the men in our neighborhood, including Atticus, helped get Miss Maudie’s things out of the burning house. Even with the gigantic fire I was shivering from the cold. Fire trucks came to the rescue and tried to extinguish the fire; but the roof burned and the house collapsed.

            Atticus led us home and offered us hot chocolate. He was staring at me and I didn’t know why. “Whose blanket is that?” I didn’t know what he was talking about, looked down, and saw a brown blanket around my shoulders. I turned to ask Jem for an answer and we both apprehended –Boo Radley had put it around my arms so I wouldn’t be cold. I could believe we hadn’t seen him! We were so close…         

            

June, I Miss You

Dear June,

         How are you? It seems like ages elapsed since I last saw you; 20 years seems more than a lifetime. How are you doing with Neil? I miss both of you so much! I hope you are doing great, and please, let me see you sometime soon. The pink house is so bizarre without May –after the calamity- and then without you. 

         I know we always had dissensions in mostly everything when I first got to Tiburon –and I still remember the time I was about to touch Black Mary’s heart but passed out because it seemed that you hated me; it was impossible to get along with you. But something that will also stay in my mind forever is rolling on the floor next to you, laughing under the shining sun –the moment when we finally became friends. I apprehended then why we couldn’t get along, you thought we were TOO different, but in that moment you realized we were two girls laughing at the same thing –we were actually very alike.

         I knew the moment to get along with each other had to come. I tried to be meticulous near you, but you always found something wrong. And surprisingly, I find myself thanking you for that because it made me stronger. You made me a better person, June; in many ways.

         Things are fine, let’s say perfect, here in the pink house –only August and I; and the bees and black Mary. It’s not that their company isn’t enough –I love them all- but I miss the times when we were all together. Sometimes Rosaleen and Zach come visit. Now I can be with Zach whenever I want. I interrogate them every time they come, don’t be amazed if the next time I see you I do the same. I miss them terribly, too.

         The days are sweltering, but beautiful, and we usually go out and watch the bees getting lost in their secret life of honey making. August is very proud of me because I’ve become a writer. She lionizes me sometimes, and Zach and Rosaleen do too. But I tell them I’m the same Lily, no need for exaggeration.

I’ve been writing mainly about my life. How everything came to be what it is –it’s interesting if you put it all together. About my many mothers –including you. That’s one of the reasons I need to see you again. The other one is that I miss you. I anxiously await a response.

Love,

Lily Owens    

Judgment: The Problem We All Live With

Norman Rockwell made the famous civil rights movement painting, The Problem We All Live With, on 1964. The painting shows a scene that took place in New Orleans on November 14^th 1960, while desegregation was finally taking place. When six-year-old, Ruby Bridges, the first colored child to go to an integrated school after passing a test to get better education in the South of the United States, was walking towards the entrance of the William Frantz school. The painting depicts how Bridges was being rejected, attacked, and harassed. Four white Federal Government guards, which are only painted from the shoulders down, are also escorting her to the entrance to protect her from white citizens who might cause physical harm.

When you pay close attention to the artwork, you notice that Ruby is looking straight ahead, her head held high without any kind of fear, maybe because she was an innocent young girl and didn’t really knew what was happening around her. The painting shows a thrown tomato on the floor and a spot left by the tomato on the wall, which Rockwell probably drew to revive the angry crowd surrounding her. But what drags the most attention are the words “Nigger” and “KKK” written on the wall to her side.

My impression on this painting is that it’s very powerful showing a very strong, young girl as the brave and determined force who showed her country a very important lesson and changed people’s minds. Definitely, the first thing I see in the painting is her, her unreadable but fearless face, and her white dress contrasting her body which might represent peace. Although, so much hatred and commotion was going all around her, she looked fearless and with determination to learn, books and supplies in hand. The details made by Norman Rockwell make the viewers realize how much cruelty there was back then and how harsh and serious segregation was. But in Ruby Bridges’ interview she says how “The girl in the painting is six years old, and knows absolutely nothing about racism.”  For Ruby Bridges, November 14^th 1960 was just a usual first day of school. Ruby Bridges is an extremely important figure in the Civil Rights Movement and in history.

The title also makes an impression on me, The Problem We All Live With. We all don’t live with racism, we might experience it around us, but we don’t exactly live with it. But we all do live with criticism, judgment and discrimination, only for being who we really are. Instead of being segregated for being of a different color, race, or culture like they did before, we are being segregated for being different. It’s not fair to judge someone just for the sake of it or because you don’t like the way they are. This is The Problem We All Live With: we are judging everyone and we are all being judged.        

     Norman Rockwell was a painter of the 20th Century, who was known for his ability to portray everyday scenarios and American culture in his paintings. In The Problem We All Live With he captured the cruelty of America in 1960 while segregation and racism where scenarios of everyday life. Rockwell’s intention was to show Americans the cruelty and suffering they were causing to innocent people of different races, like Ruby, and that it should stop.   

Imperfections=Best Friends

I must confess that I don’t like at all how now a days, your so called “friends” don’t behave like friends. Real friends are the ones who are always there for you no matter what, supporting your decisions, respecting your opinions and your way of being. There will always be “friends” like this; fake friends. I say it because I have experienced it myself. Fake friends replace you, hide things from you, have secrets, and criticize you behind your back. Maybe sometimes I am included on that “fake friend list”, but I am determined to change and I hope that my friends are also willing to.

It was actually very funny, that time when we were at the bowling alley, and two of my friends, including me, were talking. One of them was telling us about this “rumor” they had heard, and the so-called “rumor” was about one of our friends. I could see the interest in their eyes, and I surely wanted to know, too; but I supposed that if it had been SO important then our friend, who was involved in the rumor, would have told us.

Then another one of our friends (the one who had spread the rumor first) came into our conversation and started yelling at my friend who was telling me the story. She told her to stop telling other people (which meant she didn’t want me or my other friend to know) or she would get in so much trouble! I got really tired.

“OMG! We are all so stupid!!!” I finally said, desperate. “I hate it when we keep secrets! If we are really friends, we should share everything and not hide things from the rest of us. If you don’t want people to know, then don’t tell anybody, as simple as that. You can ask her if it’s true, and I bet she’ll tell you, but you don’t have to talk about her behind her back.”

By this time, my friend (who had to do with this rumor), had joined our conversation. She laughed as I said this to my other friends. She always finds fun in everything. I had gotten really mad because my group of friends tends to keep secrets between each other. But I guess that now, you can’t really change the fact that this happens in every group. I really can’t complain about my friends, because regarding their imperfections, they all are like sisters to me.         

Loving What I Do

It’s amazing how something that can seem so insignificant to most people can be so important to others. There will always be something that means a lot in your life, even if other people find it pointless. Something that lets you escape from all your troubles and that relaxes you, or even something you like a lot and you couldn’t live without. In some cases it might be music, for other people maybe art, reading or sports; for me it is ballet.  

People around me are bored of hearing me talk about my dancing. “That’s the only thing you do! You don’t have time for anything else!” They tell me. Maybe it is true, but at least I love what I do. I simply can’t picture my life without ballet. It is incredible to know that every day after school I will always go to that special place where I feel loved no matter what, unlike school. School is full of insecurities and troubles, but the best way to forget about the bad day I always have is dancing; letting it all out. A place where you can certainly find fake friends is school, also. But in my ballet community we are all friends, there is no jealousy or lies, or things that can break us apart. We are all like sisters.

            There are times when I think about quitting ballet. The truth is, that I don’t have time to do the things my friends, and girls my age do. When my friends invite me to the mall, I have practice. When they invite me to a sleepover, I have more practice. On the day of my birthday, I have a competition and have to spend the whole day in a cold theater. But after you have experienced so much like me, you notice that waiting backstage for your turn is one of the best feelings because after you step on that stage you feel like if the whole world was yours. When you’re dancing on the stage, you are the center of attention and everything will turn out right if you give your best, and smile.

            I looked around the huge backstage. It was very dark, but as I peeked to watch Anna dancing, I could see the bright lights, reflecting on her face and beautiful blue tutu. We all had the same tutu, since we were all dancing “Paquita”. Our big group of sisters was once again dressed the same. We had just finished dancing the Paquita Pa De Deux, and I had some time before my turn to dance my solo, “Paquita Wedding”. I had felt my legs trembling a little, while dancing the Pa De Deux and I knew it was because my time to dance alone was approaching.    

            My toes were hurting incredibly too much from standing on my point shoes. I knew how the audience would think, “Wow their feet look so pretty with those shoes!” but they didn’t really know how it hurt. That’s what people normally think about ballet, that it is so easy to move your arms and lift your legs, but they don’t know the pain and the effort it takes to really dance and enjoy. My point shoes were not working as they should, they were too loose around my ankle and the elastic kept failing and falling off my ankle. Luckily it hadn’t fallen off when I was dancing on stage, or my teachers would have killed me. I was sweating an awful lot, too, and I hoped my makeup hadn’t run.

            It wasn’t the first time I would dance a solo, I was actually sort of used to it; but it was the choreography that had me nervous. I knew exactly what I would do when I stood up on that stage, but the repertory had to be done with such cleanness, precision, and so delicately, that it had me scared to death. I could hear Keni’s music now and it was my turn to dance after her. So I stood up from the chair I had been sitting on, and walked towards the black curtain I had been assigned.

Two of my teachers were standing there, they always stayed around to “give us luck”... or maybe pressure. But I really appreciated their effort to make us look great after a year of hard and excruciating work. They always made a fantastic job showing off their abilities to make our yearly presentations awesome. My turn to dance was less than a minute away, and I made the Sign of the Cross so everything would turn out fine. “Enjoy it, and dance like you always do,” my teacher told me, smiling.

            I heard Keni’s music ending, and the sound of my fragile melody starting. I took a deep breath and smiled in anticipation before taking my first steps towards the stage. I did my perfect balance and ran delicately across the wooden floor. I could feel the audience staring at me, millions of eyes gazing, unmoving. The bright lights shone at my face and I smiled joyfully as the rest of the melody continued playing, and I continued dancing to its classical, delicate beat.

            It is very easy to criticize dancers who usually don’t have time to do other things than just practice their choreographies over and over again. But no one really knows, except for other dancers obviously, the sacrifice that dancing takes. We lose time with friends and family, parties, going out, days, weeks, or even months practicing. We do our best everyday to progress on our moves. But people don’t notice, they only know that we dance up on a stage with lights and dresses. They don’t know that inside every dancer there is someone who wants to reach their dream.