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Fiasco
ENG 302, Creative Writing, is a borderline boring course. The professor is very mild and utterly uninteresting. Also, kind of dumb.
Her second assignment was to come up with some cliches to share with the class. Please note that this is an extremely mixed lot -- we have the full assortment of stereotypical preppy white girls and ghetto black guys and poor white trash and everything in between. She should've released how much trouble this topic would've caused.
80 minute class -- at least 30 of which was spent in stupid debates over racial stereotyping and lack thereof.
It started interestingly enough. The professor brought up interesting points about overreacting to stereotypes -- ie, a charming short story she used to have her class read about some bumblingly adorable old man, that was censored from the curriculum because they felt he portrayed elderly people as forgetful; or a cute story about two little black girls, one of whom was good at math and the other of whom was good at jump-rope, and they agreed to tutor each other in their respective good points -- banned because it portrayed blacks as being bad at math. (Look, just because one person is bad at math doesn't mean their entire race is being typecast as such. What about the little black girl who was good at math right next to her?) Maybe there were some hitches, like a stupid girl insisting that "I feel like shit" is a hideous cliche and yet "so interesting when you think about it" because it "is so descriptive, and yet not".
Okay, fine. Then a black guy in the back contributes angrily that he thinks a cliche is the trait to label all bad things black (like "black ice" or "Black Plague") and all good things white (like "little white lie"). That would've been fine as it was -- it was interesting and true -- but then he has to go and make it about race, like white and black haven't been polar opposites representing good and evil since the dawn of fucking recorded time. He said that is was actually personally offensive to him that the Black Plague, which was "invisible" and had no excuse for being called black, was termed such. Like they called it the Black Plague because they were thinking, "You know? This plague sucks. Much like those damn darkies! Let's call it the Black Plague!"
That's when the guy in the front speaks up. He is black, he is middle-aged, he is a recovering drug addict, he has been in the ghetto and on the streets, he is a victim of hate crimes, and he always has lots of opinions and lots of things to say. I love his writing and I respect what he's been through, but I wanted him to shut up before he even opened his mouth, because he went right into insisting loudly that black people are oppressed. That's how we wound up in a thirty minute debate about racial prejudices instead of literary cliches.
Between him ("White people got it good! Gee, I feel so sorry for you, being a white boy in America! No white man can understand what I'm talking about because they're not black." One of the white trash boys tries, "That's stereotyping -- what do you know about my situation? I came from the same--" "Well, yeah, but this stereotype is REAL!") and the guy in the back ("They put 'black' in front of everything negative!" Oh yeah? Well how about my black fist to your nose, then?) we couldn't get back on topic. The professor tried, in her mild, quiet way, but she never enforced it, and the loud guy in the front making the sweeping statements about white people vs black people would often go on for minutes at a time about his beliefs while nobody even tried interrupting him, because he'd just talk right over you. SHUT THE HELL UP, already; it's not like we think prejudice is a MYTH or anything, but I can physically feel my sympathy for the plight of your people draining with direct proportion to the amount of bitching you do to a crowd arguing semantics with you.
On the topic, Val composed two haiku.
Her second assignment was to come up with some cliches to share with the class. Please note that this is an extremely mixed lot -- we have the full assortment of stereotypical preppy white girls and ghetto black guys and poor white trash and everything in between. She should've released how much trouble this topic would've caused.
80 minute class -- at least 30 of which was spent in stupid debates over racial stereotyping and lack thereof.
It started interestingly enough. The professor brought up interesting points about overreacting to stereotypes -- ie, a charming short story she used to have her class read about some bumblingly adorable old man, that was censored from the curriculum because they felt he portrayed elderly people as forgetful; or a cute story about two little black girls, one of whom was good at math and the other of whom was good at jump-rope, and they agreed to tutor each other in their respective good points -- banned because it portrayed blacks as being bad at math. (Look, just because one person is bad at math doesn't mean their entire race is being typecast as such. What about the little black girl who was good at math right next to her?) Maybe there were some hitches, like a stupid girl insisting that "I feel like shit" is a hideous cliche and yet "so interesting when you think about it" because it "is so descriptive, and yet not".
Okay, fine. Then a black guy in the back contributes angrily that he thinks a cliche is the trait to label all bad things black (like "black ice" or "Black Plague") and all good things white (like "little white lie"). That would've been fine as it was -- it was interesting and true -- but then he has to go and make it about race, like white and black haven't been polar opposites representing good and evil since the dawn of fucking recorded time. He said that is was actually personally offensive to him that the Black Plague, which was "invisible" and had no excuse for being called black, was termed such. Like they called it the Black Plague because they were thinking, "You know? This plague sucks. Much like those damn darkies! Let's call it the Black Plague!"
That's when the guy in the front speaks up. He is black, he is middle-aged, he is a recovering drug addict, he has been in the ghetto and on the streets, he is a victim of hate crimes, and he always has lots of opinions and lots of things to say. I love his writing and I respect what he's been through, but I wanted him to shut up before he even opened his mouth, because he went right into insisting loudly that black people are oppressed. That's how we wound up in a thirty minute debate about racial prejudices instead of literary cliches.
Between him ("White people got it good! Gee, I feel so sorry for you, being a white boy in America! No white man can understand what I'm talking about because they're not black." One of the white trash boys tries, "That's stereotyping -- what do you know about my situation? I came from the same--" "Well, yeah, but this stereotype is REAL!") and the guy in the back ("They put 'black' in front of everything negative!" Oh yeah? Well how about my black fist to your nose, then?) we couldn't get back on topic. The professor tried, in her mild, quiet way, but she never enforced it, and the loud guy in the front making the sweeping statements about white people vs black people would often go on for minutes at a time about his beliefs while nobody even tried interrupting him, because he'd just talk right over you. SHUT THE HELL UP, already; it's not like we think prejudice is a MYTH or anything, but I can physically feel my sympathy for the plight of your people draining with direct proportion to the amount of bitching you do to a crowd arguing semantics with you.
On the topic, Val composed two haiku.
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ENG 302, Creative Writing, is a borderline boring course. The professor is very mild and utterly uninteresting. Also, kind of dumb.
Her second assignment was to come up with some cliches to share with the class. Please note that this is an extremely mixed lot -- we have the full assortment of <i>stereotypical</i> preppy white girls and ghetto black guys and poor white trash and everything in between. She should've released how much trouble this topic would've caused.
80 minute class -- at least 30 of which was spent in stupid debates over racial stereotyping and lack thereof.
It started interestingly enough. The professor brought up interesting points about overreacting to stereotypes -- ie, a charming short story she used to have her class read about some bumblingly adorable old man, that was censored from the curriculum because they felt he portrayed elderly people as forgetful; or a cute story about two little black girls, one of whom was good at math and the other of whom was good at jump-rope, and they agreed to tutor each other in their respective good points -- banned because it portrayed blacks as being <b>bad at math</b>. (Look, just because one person is bad at math doesn't mean their entire race is being typecast as such. What about the little black girl who was good at math <i>right next to her</i>?) Maybe there were some hitches, like a stupid girl insisting that "I feel like shit" is a hideous cliche and yet "so interesting when you think about it" because it "is so descriptive, and yet not".
Okay, fine. Then a black guy in the back contributes angrily that he thinks a cliche is the trait to label all bad things black (like "black ice" or "Black Plague") and all good things white (like "little white lie"). That would've been fine as it was -- it was interesting and true -- but then he has to go and make it about race, like white and black haven't been polar opposites representing good and evil since the dawn of fucking recorded time. He said that is was actually <i>personally</i> offensive to him that the Black Plague, which was "invisible" and had no excuse for being called black, was termed such. Like they called it the Black Plague because they were thinking, "You know? This plague sucks. Much like those <i>damn darkies!</i> Let's call it the Black Plague!"
That's when the guy in the front speaks up. He is black, he is middle-aged, he is a recovering drug addict, he has been in the ghetto and on the streets, he is a victim of hate crimes, and he always has lots of opinions and lots of things to say. I love his writing and I respect what he's been through, but I wanted him to shut up before he even opened his mouth, because he went right into insisting loudly that black people are oppressed. That's how we wound up in a thirty minute debate about racial prejudices instead of literary cliches.
Between him ("White people got it good! Gee, I feel so sorry for you, being a white boy in America! No white man can understand what I'm talking about because they're not black." One of the white trash boys tries, "That's <i>stereotyping</i> -- what do you know about my situation? I came from the same--" "Well, yeah, but this stereotype is REAL!") and the guy in the back ("They put 'black' in front of everything negative!" Oh yeah? Well how about my black <b>fist to your nose</b>, then?) we couldn't get back on topic. The professor tried, in her mild, quiet way, but she never enforced it, and the loud guy in the front making the sweeping statements about white people vs black people would often go on for <b>minutes at a time</b> about his beliefs while nobody even <b>tried</b> interrupting him, because he'd just talk right over you. SHUT THE HELL UP, already; it's not like we think prejudice is a MYTH or anything, but I can physically feel my sympathy for the plight of your people draining with direct proportion to the amount of bitching you do to a crowd arguing semantics with you.
On the topic, Val composed two haiku.
<align="center">My consciousness fades
Any relevance has gone
I wish to move on
Stop with the anger
The cliches have gone too far
Please Shut The Hell Up</align>
One guy tried to point out that black people aren't actually black and white people aren't actually white -- if anything is an offensive mislabelling it was applying those loaded terms to those people, instead of those being loaded terms <i>because</i> they're used for those people, like black ice is a deliberate reference to black people -- but he got shot down, bizarrely, by the black guy in the front, holding up a notebook and insisting that it was white and in his neighborhood people got killed for being white or being black so don't talk to him about that. <b>What?</b>
When things finally settled down enough for the professor to be heard, the black guy in the front made like he was all demure now. She suggested they keep things on the topic of writing next time, and he said laughingly, "Oh -- is this a writing class?" I do like him, I just wish he would shut up.
To draw this entry to a close, the professor went on to make an extremely random analogy to the fact that we wouldn't be killing other people if we knew them. She used as an example, "If you knew all the cattle that get sent to the slaughterhouse, like the farmer does, you... wouldn't send them to the slaughterhouse."
But the farmer <i>does</i> send his cattle to the slaughterhouse.
Her second assignment was to come up with some cliches to share with the class. Please note that this is an extremely mixed lot -- we have the full assortment of <i>stereotypical</i> preppy white girls and ghetto black guys and poor white trash and everything in between. She should've released how much trouble this topic would've caused.
80 minute class -- at least 30 of which was spent in stupid debates over racial stereotyping and lack thereof.
It started interestingly enough. The professor brought up interesting points about overreacting to stereotypes -- ie, a charming short story she used to have her class read about some bumblingly adorable old man, that was censored from the curriculum because they felt he portrayed elderly people as forgetful; or a cute story about two little black girls, one of whom was good at math and the other of whom was good at jump-rope, and they agreed to tutor each other in their respective good points -- banned because it portrayed blacks as being <b>bad at math</b>. (Look, just because one person is bad at math doesn't mean their entire race is being typecast as such. What about the little black girl who was good at math <i>right next to her</i>?) Maybe there were some hitches, like a stupid girl insisting that "I feel like shit" is a hideous cliche and yet "so interesting when you think about it" because it "is so descriptive, and yet not".
Okay, fine. Then a black guy in the back contributes angrily that he thinks a cliche is the trait to label all bad things black (like "black ice" or "Black Plague") and all good things white (like "little white lie"). That would've been fine as it was -- it was interesting and true -- but then he has to go and make it about race, like white and black haven't been polar opposites representing good and evil since the dawn of fucking recorded time. He said that is was actually <i>personally</i> offensive to him that the Black Plague, which was "invisible" and had no excuse for being called black, was termed such. Like they called it the Black Plague because they were thinking, "You know? This plague sucks. Much like those <i>damn darkies!</i> Let's call it the Black Plague!"
That's when the guy in the front speaks up. He is black, he is middle-aged, he is a recovering drug addict, he has been in the ghetto and on the streets, he is a victim of hate crimes, and he always has lots of opinions and lots of things to say. I love his writing and I respect what he's been through, but I wanted him to shut up before he even opened his mouth, because he went right into insisting loudly that black people are oppressed. That's how we wound up in a thirty minute debate about racial prejudices instead of literary cliches.
Between him ("White people got it good! Gee, I feel so sorry for you, being a white boy in America! No white man can understand what I'm talking about because they're not black." One of the white trash boys tries, "That's <i>stereotyping</i> -- what do you know about my situation? I came from the same--" "Well, yeah, but this stereotype is REAL!") and the guy in the back ("They put 'black' in front of everything negative!" Oh yeah? Well how about my black <b>fist to your nose</b>, then?) we couldn't get back on topic. The professor tried, in her mild, quiet way, but she never enforced it, and the loud guy in the front making the sweeping statements about white people vs black people would often go on for <b>minutes at a time</b> about his beliefs while nobody even <b>tried</b> interrupting him, because he'd just talk right over you. SHUT THE HELL UP, already; it's not like we think prejudice is a MYTH or anything, but I can physically feel my sympathy for the plight of your people draining with direct proportion to the amount of bitching you do to a crowd arguing semantics with you.
On the topic, Val composed two haiku.
<align="center">My consciousness fades
Any relevance has gone
I wish to move on
Stop with the anger
The cliches have gone too far
Please Shut The Hell Up</align>
One guy tried to point out that black people aren't actually black and white people aren't actually white -- if anything is an offensive mislabelling it was applying those loaded terms to those people, instead of those being loaded terms <i>because</i> they're used for those people, like black ice is a deliberate reference to black people -- but he got shot down, bizarrely, by the black guy in the front, holding up a notebook and insisting that it was white and in his neighborhood people got killed for being white or being black so don't talk to him about that. <b>What?</b>
When things finally settled down enough for the professor to be heard, the black guy in the front made like he was all demure now. She suggested they keep things on the topic of writing next time, and he said laughingly, "Oh -- is this a writing class?" I do like him, I just wish he would shut up.
To draw this entry to a close, the professor went on to make an extremely random analogy to the fact that we wouldn't be killing other people if we knew them. She used as an example, "If you knew all the cattle that get sent to the slaughterhouse, like the farmer does, you... wouldn't send them to the slaughterhouse."
But the farmer <i>does</i> send his cattle to the slaughterhouse.
no subject
ha no you ni
kotoba ga futte
fuu ni tobu
shizuka na heya ni
imi ga saiteru
Translation:
Like leaves
Words fall and
Fly in the wind
In a silent room,
Meaning blooms
Inspired by something similar. It's a nice, Mr. Miyagi way to point out that perhaps if you'd FUCKING SHUT UP, we might be able to learn something.