Oedipus and Antigone Test

1.    Fate is a set path you will follow in life to reach a certain outcome, your lot in life. Fate determines your life as a human being on earth. Whatever you do and whatever happens is all your fate, and there isn’t a way to change it. I believe that if you have a specific fate, you can’t do anything to change it. Your free will may cause you to think you have changed your fate, but I believe that in fact, that was your fate all along. An example of this is in the play, Oedipus. King Laius and Queen Jocasta had Oedipus as a son, and it was a prophecy that Oedipus would kill his father, and sleep with his mother. To change their fate they chained him to a mountain as an infant, letting him die. He ended up surviving, and full filling this prophecy without even knowing it. Even though the king and the queen attempted to stop this prophecy from happening, their efforts proved to be futile.

    Free Will is the ability to make choices based on your own beliefs and opinions and to make your own choices regardless of any kinds of constraints. My own free will is something that can’t be taken away from me, but it doesn’t affect your fate. As I said before I think that your fate is your fate, and everything that happens in your life including the decisions you make, all are apart of that. When it comes to being born, my gender, and other things that aren’t in my control, I believe that it just happens. Genetics play a role in who I am, and I see that my personality has derived from my father. However, I still do believe in fate. Things like genetics just play a role in that.

    Without a doubt in my mind, I think everybody is here on earth for a reason, regardless of whether there is a higher power or not. Each individual person has a fate, and a set path of life that they will follow. People’s fate’s link together at some points, and at others they are set apart. With that being said, you cannot change the path that is set out for you. In Oedipus's case, even his parents free will to have him killed did not change his prophecy, in a way it made it more likely to happen.

2.    Lying is something that we are taught at a very young age not to do. Young children see a lie as bad, no matter the size of the lie or the circumstances. As you get older you learn the difference between a lie, and white lie. Sometimes, people have to lie because it will protect somebody, or maybe they will just tell the truth at a later date. This can be okay in certain situations, but in everyday situations, lying isn’t okay. A person can’t always make the decision for somebody that it is in their best interest not to know the truth.

Off the top of my head I can think of two solid examples of situations where lying is acceptable, and is for the better. One example involves slavery. There were many people who had safe houses for African American runaways from plantations across the south. The people who helped out the African American slaves, would clearly lie and hide them if somebody had come to look for them. This was in their best interest, it protected them. A very similar example was people who protected the Jewish from Nazi soldiers in World War II. Those who protected them lied about having them in their houses, and tried to stray the soldiers off track. Those are two noble lies, because not only is it protecting somebody else, its putting your own life at risk because of the lie you told.

There are times when lies can be seen as important or beneficial, but there still are many cases where lies are just lies, and they can be hurtful. More times than not, I want to hear the truth when I'm looking for an answer. The truth isn’t always pretty, and sometimes it can even be hurtful to hear, but telling the truth when it’s hurtful is even harder than hearing it. If someone were to do me wrong, but they had the courage to tell me the truth right away, I would look at them as a better person, because they could look me in the eye and tell me something truthful even if the truth was unfortunate.

As different individuals with different personalities, some people don’t have as much of a guilty conscience as others. I for one have a very guilty conscience, and because of that I feel a lot better when I tell the truth. If it came down to it, and I was in a situation where lying was probably the better decision, I would lie. I do believe that the stronger person in any situation will be able to fess up or tell the truth, even if it hurts people that you care about. Overall, lying is a bad habit, and it can become a habit very easily. The truth is almost always the better option.

3.    After the play Oedipus had been written, Sigmund Freud came up with a a theory that related directly to the play. Basically what the Oedipus complex is that young boys have the desire to kill their father’s and sleep with their mothers. They are supposed to continue along with their psycho-sexual development, but when they don’t progress like they should, they stay in this stage. This can still play out in abnormal or exaggerated ways. I think there can be some truth to this theory, and there are also reasons why this theory wouldn’t be true.

    If you really think about it, this would be a good explanation for some of the very disturbed crimes that you read about. There are a lot of people out there who commit sexual crimes on children and other people, this could be related. I’ve also even seen a few stories on the news about boys who killed either just their father, or both their parents. The complex says that this desire may be carried out in abnormal or exaggerated ways, and it is a solid idea. There has to be a reason that certain people make those decisions, and Freud suggests that these are the people that haven’t progressed correctly.

    On the flip side, people can look at this is completely bogus. If this were true, wouldn’t young boys show signs of these desires? It isn’t commonly known for boys to show aggression against their fathers. They have shown attachment to their mothers, but so do young girls. Also, if this were to be true, wouldn’t you remember it? It seems hard to believe that your brain will block out these phases, you have no recollection of them at all. With this being said, I have come to my own personal conclusion that the Oedipus Complex isn’t real. It doesn’t all add up quite right, and there is no way to prove it. I find it hard to believe in just a theory.

4.    Antigone is a great example of somebody who shows great courage and selflessness. She knows that if she tries to bury her brother and gets caught, she will probably die. This doesn’t stop her. It’s noble and admirable, but it’s also very risky. I know that if it were me, I probably wouldn’t have done that. I think that she gets her courage to do this because of all that her father went through. I’m sure she knows, and it probably made her think that if he went through such hardship, she could go through something hard too. I make my decisions on a case by case basis, there isn’t something specific I follow everyday. I deal with thing as they come along. Some rules are more fair than others, so depending on the rule, I may bend break or follow it.

    A rule that I can think of that I break is cell phone and ipod usage in school. I have a VHS period in the library and a study period in the library, both which I typically am by myself. I see no problem with taking out my phone to throw a text out to my mom or one of my friends. I do that at home when I'm getting work done too. When it comes to my ipod, if I'm not on the computer using Pandora, I'll be sitting at a table with my ipod. Music actually help me concentrate, especially when there are people in the library. I’ve been told before my teachers to put away my electronics, but that’s one rule I probably won’t stop breaking.

    Times that I bend the rules are times that I use the computer for a little longer than my parents would like, or if I come home a little too late on a school night. These rules aren’t necessarily breakable because they aren’t set in stone rules, more like guidelines i should follow everyday. There are rules that I follow everyday and won’t break, because they’re there for my own good. Things like texting while driving and wearing my seat belt. It would be dangerous not to follow those types of rules. If I can see reasoning for a rule, most likely I'll respect that and follow it. If a rule seems stupid to me, I'm not afraid of getting in trouble for doing what I believe is fair and right. Rules and laws that are there to protect you, are the ones that are fair. An unjust law is something like Gay Marriage. That’s not hurting anybody, and it doesn’t effect anybody.

Siddartha Comes To America

          

I crawled out of bed and tried to open my tired eyes. The sun had not even come up yet, but I was still running late. I had to pick up my pen pal from the airport. We were assigned pen pals at my summer camp, and I decided to bring mine, Siddhartha, to America. It was nerve racking because we had yet to meet face to face, but from the letters Siddhartha seemed like a very interesting person. I knew exactly where I wanted to take him. I know he doesn’t like any places with loud noises and a lot of people, he’s used to being in more quiet areas.  I wanted to give him a little taste of both aspects of American Culture, so I’m taking him to buttery brook, and Boston.

“Hello Siddhartha!” I greeted him loudly at the airport. I’m so happy he sent me a picture of himself with his last letter, or else I wouldn’t have known who he was.

“Hello Nicole, It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You have been a great pen pal.” Siddhartha responded softly. Wow, even the airport is noisy. American sure is crazy. I walked him over to my car, and helped him with his bags. As soon as we hit the road, I Started to tell him all about America.

“So America is a pretty amazing place. You can guarantee that in any town you go to there’s gonna be somewhere delicious to get food, something pretty to look at, and...” I stopped suddenly, realizing Siddhartha was fast asleep. When we reached my house, I gave him a nudge and brought him inside.

“So, what are we doing first?” Siddhartha asked. Please pick something calming..

“I’m taking you to one of my favorite places, it’s a park close by.” We hopped in the car and reached our first destination within a matter of a few minutes. We started walking around, and immediately I could see Siddhartha’s smile. This place smells wonderful.

“What is that smell, its uplifting.” Siddhartha exclaimed.

“That’s just fresh cut grass..I guess i forgot how good it smells. That's a very common smell in any suburban place spring through fall.” I explained. I myself, appreciated the flower beds and the strange smell of hot rubber swing seats. Siddhartha and I swung on swings for only a minute, and he decided he didn’t like them too much. So instead, we walked to the brook and took a seat on the bridge. He sat with his eyes closed, in some meditation form that I didn’t know how to do. So I sat with my legs crossed and tried to imitate what he was doing. He suddenly got up, and mentioned how he was hungry. Luckily I brought us a picnic lunch. Siddhartha sat down and started eating, but he had his eyes close.The birds sound beautiful, and this food tastes so good. How could anybody want to spoil it with talk?

“Okay Siddhartha I’m glad you enjoyed, but it’s time to go. We need to beat some traffic on our next destination.” I explained.

“Where are we going? Why can’t we stay here?” Siddhartha looked disappointed.

“This is one beautiful aspect of American culture, but it’s not the only one Siddhartha. There is something called a “night life” that I think you could grow fond of.”

“I’m not sure about that. But I supposed I'll give it a try.” Siddhartha looked a little worried, but I assured him it was nothing out of the ordinary, for an ordinary American that is.” This time, the car ride was filled with questions. Siddhartha seemed thrilled by all that was going on around him, and we were just on the highway! I’ve never seen so many cars in one place.

“So where do people find the money to buy all of these fancy things?” Siddhartha asked. I didn’t know how to answer the question at first, I couldn’t believe something that I was so used to was actually interesting or even puzzling to others.

“Well..you go to school until you have learned enough to get a real job. You work a lot, save a lot, and buy things you need or want along the way. There isn’t really any other meaning to most Americans lives other than being successful. Its the American Dream, Siddhartha.” He looked at me, and then turned back to the window. Finally we were in Boston. We went to The Cheesecake Factory of dinner, and I told Siddhartha about where we were. So much food,how can one even desire to eat this much? I told Siddhartha all about how we were in the Prudential center, and I brought out a map and circled the main attractions like Fenway Park and Faneuil Hall. How can so many things be in one place? We walked around at night, and watched a street performer.

“My head is spinning, there’s so much around me how can anybody even process all of this?” Siddhartha asked frantically. This is a lot different than the excitment i’m used to.

“Siddhartha it isn’t always about processing it, it’s about just living it and experiencing it.” Without even realizing, Siddhartha has already started to walk away. He was headed towards the car..and the night was hardly over! “Okay I get it, you’re don’t here. I’m just glad you got to see what else is in America.”

“I like loud sometimes I must admit, but this isn’t my type of place.” Siddhartha said nicely. We started on our journey home. From all the excitement, Siddhartha fell asleep again. I was left to sit in the car and think about the day. I came to an assumption that Siddhartha liked Buttery Brook much better than Boston, even though he did admit he likes loud sometimes. It was awesome to finally spend some time with Siddhartha, and I hope he comes to visit again. Maybe one day I'll go visit there, but I'm not sure how fun it would be. Regardless, if Siddhartha comes back, I think I'll take him to my uncle’s lake house. He would love it.

College Essay

I entered my 6^th grade class and smelt a combination of old books and the rubber of new sneakers. I looked around and saw some smiling familiar faces, but what drew my attention was a short boy who had already gravitated to the back corner of the room, by himself.  Being a loud and talkative girl, I walked over and offered up my hand for a simple handshake. He was taken aback, and didn’t say anything at all. He just gave me a look, and I shrugged and walked away. Some days I would forget he was in my class, because nobody had ever heard him talk.

As the year went by I felt like this boy, Hammad, should have opened up to somebody, or at least started talking. He wasn’t considered a new kid anymore, but day in and day out he was alone in the classroom, alone in the lunchroom, and alone at recess. 

The brisk air on the first day back from thanksgiving recess was sharp, and Hammad didn’t have a jacket. All the students In the 6^th grade poured outside, racing to the jungle gym, trying to get first in like for four square, and then there was Hammad. He waited patiently by the door, looking a bit cold and ready to go inside. I walked up to my teacher who was watching all the kids play, and asked if I could take Hammad back to our classroom for the rest of our time outside. She immediately agreed, and I walked over. “Hammad, our teacher said we could go inside, if you want.” I recall asking. He looked at me, surprised, and headed inside. I spent about 15 minutes talking to him, not getting much in return. The next day, I sat with him at lunch. Eventually a few of my friends tagged along, and he started to talk a bit more. He was still very quiet, but Hammad did open up.

Seventh grade started as quickly as sixth grade ended, but this year Hammad was in a different class. I looked for him at lunch, but by the time I found him, he was already surrounded by a different group of people, laughing and talking about how repulsive the mixed vegetables looked. Smiling to myself, I walked to a different table. Hammad came up to me after he threw out his tray, and smiled. All he said was, “Thank you”. It was simple and short, but it taught me a lesson I will never forget.

Hammad was quiet, but he wasn’t incapable of having friends. He taught me that sometimes, people need an extra push to get to where they want to be. I realized something about myself from Hammad. All I wanted to do with my life is help people, and make them feel like the best version of themselves that they can be. There are so many people in the world similar to Hammad. So many flowers, waiting to bloom, that just need an extra spray of water to get to where they want to be.

Assignment #1, The Things They Carried (1-26)

1.      The Vietnam war struck people with a harsh reality. Other than being at the risk of dying and being far from home and loved ones, men in battle had to travel daily holding everything on their back. The things they carried were a compilation of things required, and things they chose to keep them sane. They had to only choose necessities, or whatever they could handle. Most men carried things like pictures, cigarettes, C rations, water, pocket knifes, etc. If I was in their  position, I would bring a journal that inside already had notes from my family written in it, and the rest blank paper.
          The reason why I would bring this half-filled journal, would be because I would go insane without getting my feelings out somewhere. I would write every day that I could about how I felt, what I saw, the friends I made during the war, or just anything that was on my mind. Not only would this help me cope while I'm at war, I could look back on it at a later date if I got home safely to remind myself of the good things I experienced. It's something that makes sense to have around to me. Also, it hardly weighs anything.
          The importance of this item isn't literally the item, it's what would be inside. I'm an extremely family oriented person, so being able to read what they wrote, see their handwriting, and hear their voice through the words they had written would mean the world to me. I think the hardest part about fighting in a war for me would be being away from everybody that I love, so holding something they have written would help me feel a little less homesick, and safer in a way.

2.        The soldiers of the Vietnam War had to worry about the wieght that they carried. The more they had on their backs, the harder it was to travel. Although there was a limit on what tangible items they could carry, there was no limit on how many intangible items they could carry. These intangible items were just as good, if not better, than the tangible ones. The intangable item I would carry would be a memory. Christmas day of 2010. Every holiday is always good and cheerful, but this Christmas day was the most special of them all.
          Not seeing your family is always hard, but Christmas brings everybody together. I woke up with my brothers all home, and spent the whole day just lazing around with the people that matter most to me. Nothing beats the smell of the huge breakfast my dad cooked, or the feel of the warm fire on my back as I sat on the rough, stone fireplace. I can imagine sitting in the mud, cold, wet, and hungry, making myself feel better by thinking back on that day. I could laugh about all the funny home-videos we watched and all the jokes we made towards eachother. Everybody was in a good mood, and nobody fought. The day was too perfect for pointless arguments about who didn't refill the toliet paper roll, and thinking of that day makes me smile instantly. No matter how I feel, it warms me up. It makes me feel as though my family is right next to me, even though i'm miles and miles away.

Summer Reading Essay

An Escape From Reality

(The Kite Runner & The Bean Trees)



              Taylor Greer observantly walked along a rocky sidewalk of Tuscan, Arizona. As the sun beat down on her, she thought about how late she was going to be to work at the coffee shop. Of course the one-day her car broke down the heat was more powerful that she had felt it ever was before. “Look at the bright side.” She muttered to herself. “At least it’s not raining. I’ve been through worse.” As she finished her sentence, she heard a car pull up behind her. A familiar looking Afghani man was inside, she remembered him from the coffee shop. He had been there the day before, but she had just then realized she never asked him for his name. Feeling rude, she immediately introduced herself.

            “I’m Taylor Greer, I work at the coffee shop down the road, but you already know that. I’m so sorry I never caught your name...”

            “You’re a busy girl, no hard feelings. I’m Amir, and I was actually on my way to the coffee shop now. Assuming your uniform, I’m guessing you’re headed there too. Would you like a ride?” Amir asked sincerely. Taylor hesitated, not knowing who this person really was, but she got in anyways.

            “It sure is hot out there. Regardless, you didn’t have to bring me. I really appreciate it though…” Taylor paused as she looked around the car and saw a picture of a very young boy, and Amir. “Is that your son?” She continued, “He’s adorable.”

            “Yes, my wife and I adopted him a little while back. He was actually my friend’s son. I wanted to give him a life he could look back on with joy. You see, he saw his mother and father die in Afghanistan. He was also abused, and never really spoke much.” Amir was waiting for Taylor to show all the compassion that everybody else had, nobody ever knew what to say when he finished his story.

            “That’s really strange actually. I mean, not the story. You’re story is very inspiring, and it must have been such a difficult experience. I adopted a little girl, Turtle. She was abused as well, and didn’t talk much either.” Taylor told Amir.

            “Wow, you’re so young. What would ever inspire you to adopt a little girl?” Amir asked.

            “Well actually she was just kind of handed to me, and I felt obligated to give her a good life, just as you felt like you wanted to give your child a good life. I felt it was the right thing to do.”

            “We have similar stories, but I wish I could have been more like you at a younger age. You see, I was it took me until my son to actually grow up. I used to act as if I was a child.” Amir shamefully explained.

            “Well you grew up eventually, and that’s all that really matters. I grew up because I felt like I had to. It’s just the way I am. But that doesn’t mean everybody is that way. It’s amazing what you did though, like I said before, inspiring at the least.”

            “Yes, this is very true. I wish you and Turtle well…looks like you’re back to reality.” Amir finished his thought as he pulled into the coffee shop parking lot.

            “Thank you so much for the ride, and for talking to me. If you’d like to come in for a coffee, its on me.” Taylor said.

            “I would love that, I could use a cup before the long drive back to my home in California. It sure is beautiful out here though.” Amir looked at Taylor as if to say thank you with his eyes, and they both made their way into the shop.

Megan's Interview

            Megan Pinciak is one extraordinary girl with a natural love for sleep. This future ultra sound technician not only has smarts, she has style too. She loves to rock jean shorts and a classy black v-neck, showing dominance and her leadership qualities, which comes in handy at Field Hockey, Swimming, and the Peace Club. She wouldn’t be caught dead in anything that even resembles something like pee-yellow crocs. In ten years, she hopes to be making money and living a life that she loves, which she knows will require hard work in her years of education.
            Like most people in today’s society, Megan doesn’t feel like her vocabulary is as good as it could be, so she would love to learn more this year in her English class along with strengthening her conclusions. With a more substantial vocabulary, she feels it could also help her reading level. At the moment her reading level is about average, because Megan reads what she has to and not much more. As a reader, she would like to strengthen her thought process and analysis. Along with many high school students her age, after she reads something she sometimes struggles understanding what she read. Although she feels this way about her reading, she still was able to find a book she enjoyed. Her favorite book is Eleven Seconds, which struck her as an enjoyable read because of how touching and inspiring it was. Her favorite author is Sarah Desson because she has never read a bad book by her, but she still wants to stray away and try something new, like a mystery instead of her favorite, non-fiction. She has much strength as a writer and reader that most people agree there is not much improving left to be done. She is very creative and can write a story with ease, this girl’s mind runs wild. She does well with fiction writing, and enjoys that immensely. There’s is a lot of work that has to be put in, but Megan is hoping that it is not much longer than the 30-60 minutes she was accustomed to in Accel English 11. This was mostly spent reading short stories and answering questions about the reading. Her homework is done after sports practice at her kitchen table.
            Even though Megan knows she has things to work on, she loves whom she has grown into. If you were to ask her whom she would switch places with for the day if she could, she wouldn’t even want to do that. She loves her life and doesn’t want it to change. On a typical day, you could find her watching the Miami Dolphins with her family, or Dumb & Dumber with some good friends while eating her favorite macaroni and Parmesan cheese. She loves Dave Mathews Band because all of their songs are great, and would love to meet them along with Craig Owens and Lil Wayne.
Megan would love to go to Greece, Italy, and Australia before she dies, because all of those places are beautiful and interesting. She has always wanted a Chinchilla for a pet, even though her mother would never let her. Despite that, she loves her mother very much and looks up to her for her good judgment of character. She loves things in the summertime, like ladybugs, sunflowers, and the color green, just like the green grass. She loves most things in life, as you can tell. Anything that entertains her makes her a smiley girl. Some exceptions to this are opera and polka music, which just sound terrible to her. The one superpower she wishes she could have would the power to be invisible, so she could pull pranks on people without them knowing. This happy-go-lucky 17 year old is a very interesting person who can make friends with anybody.