A Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up 
like a raisin in the sun? 
Or fester like a sore-- 
And then run? 
Does it stink like rotten meat? 
Or crust and sugar over-- 
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags 
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

By: Langston Hughes

 I remember when this poem was read to me two years ago in my English class. I was sitting in my desk with my head resting on my hands, but when my teacher began reciting the words, I lifted my head and tried to listen closely, for the words were affecting me. Before then, I had never heard of Langston Hughes, or read any of his poetry. That was the first day that I learned what exactly the Harlem Renaissance was and about the spread of African American culture that took place.

         Hughes’s poem about a dream that is put on hold, spoke to me because through reading Maya Angelou’s memoir, I now know how many young black men and women had to have a defined future. They didn’t have the opportunity to be what they wanted to be, they had to settle for what society allowed them to become. Hughes’s description of all of the terrible things that happens to a postponed dream leaves me with a sense of dread. The fact that it could ‘sag like a heavy load’ gives me the image of built of tension. As if someone who cannot achieve their dream will always carries it around with them, while their disappointment drags them down. It seems that the disappointment of their missed dream eventually builds up and is extracted from their memory; taking their pain along with it.

         Luckily for Maya, her dream of working on the railcars was achieved. She managed to be the first African American woman in San Francisco to achieve that feat. It was the first time she realized that she didn’t need to conform her dreams.

Advising Module #2

In school, sports where never my forte, math was my weakness, and I definitely didn’t succeed in every endeavor that I tried, but by experiencing my failures I was able to discover my strengths. For seven years that strength was the ability to play a string instrument. I can still remember the exact moment that a vibrato filled cello was placed into my outstretched hands. From the first glide of my bow across the four strings I new that I had found a passion. Since I wasn’t the best in all of my classes, I put most of my efforts into practicing my instrument and growing as a player. My drive paid off and I received the honor of being one of three freshmen, out of hundreds, to make it into the highest orchestra in my high school. The four years I spent in my high school orchestra I went through incredible highs, our orchestra placed second in the state of Indiana two years in a row, but I did go through lows as well, such as becoming burnt out from playing every day for sevens year. Currently I’m resting my talent, until I find my inspiration to play again.

Believe it or not, my biggest interest in life is not playing the cello, but the knowledge that there are people in the world that I can help. Community service was a big part of my life in high school, whether it was environmental clean ups, volunteering at nursing homes and raising money for abandoned animals. I get a great satisfaction out of seeing a smile on someone’s face that wasn’t previously there, so I do all that I can at my work and in the public to make that happen. I’m interested in sociology and anthropology and I’m hoping that by learning more about these social sciences I will be able to study cultures and varying people and see how they live, and learn from their customs and ways of life.

The video of Gary Vaynerchuk was uplifting and quite inspiring. When he said that we should spend time doing what we love, it really got me thinking that why would I want to spend my entire life having a job that I detested? I should find what makes me happy in life, and run with it. I’m hoping that this year I will be able to solidify a passion that I will want to pursue for years to come.

Before this week I had heard of Maya Angelou only through the media. I’ve heard her name spoken in school and I thought I had seen her reading a poem on television once, but I’ve never personally read anything written by her. Having the opportunity to enrich my mind of her presence was a great intellectual experience. So far her memoir,  I know Why the Cage Bird Sings is heartbreaking and real and manages to capture the innocence of a child growing up in a segregated Arkansas town. Her memoir captures the mindset of people during that time, where not many women were strong, where blacks were not equal, and where religion was some people’s only salvation.

        

The moment that has stuck with me the most while reading is eight-year-old Maya’s sexual assault by her mother’s boyfriend. Assault on anyone is wrong, but the fact that Maya was so young and so confused as to what was happening to her is devastating. For when the act initially began she thought of it as a comfort. She was so neglected that she wanted to feel wanted by someone. And after the act occurred, she like so many other victims, blamed herself. I was saddened by the thought that she was the one who felt disgusting. I couldn’t believe that when she found out that her assailant was dead she thought it was because she lied to the courts and didn’t tell the whole extent of what the man did to her. She felt no relief, only guilt.

Although it’s hard for me to wrap my head around why someone would feel that way, I know that I am by no means in authority to tell anyone how to feel. We learned at the BAVO event last week that when someone is hurt by anyone in that way, it is never the victim’s fault. We also learned that the victim’s peers cannot force them into getting help if it is unwanted, and we cannot force them to tell of the events if they don’t want to speak. I can only hope that later in life Maya was able to talk to someone and tell them the whole truth of what she experienced, I hope she has found some sort of closure.

Mary Gordon's Speech

Going into Tuesday night I was genuinely excited to hear from Mary Gordon. I thought she would discuss her various books, and give us insight to what she was thinking while writing them. I was in for a surprise when I glanced at the program and saw the title of her lecture. The names of her books were nowhere to be found, instead they were replaced by the names of artists and poets.

            

The beginning of Gordon’s speech enthralled me with her use of eerie paintings and the text that went along with them, but as the speech continued I found myself getting lost. I’m not sure if it was my lack of intense focus on what she was saying, or if her academic language was just going over my head. There were moments where the adults around me would chuckle at Gordon’s intended jokes and I would just sit there confused, not quite catching the humor.

            

However there were moments that I did understand, like I mentioned before Gordon’s use of Goya’s paintings really resonated with me. I found it helpful that she had clear examples of what she was talking about. It was nice to hear her describe a specific painting and then look at the projector screen and see exactly what she was talking about, while making new observations of my own. I understood the point that she was making that while the artists where living in times of war and societal disgrace they were able to find an escape through their faith.Even though I was confused through the speech, some of Gordon’s points did register with me; I believe the fact that everything that she spoke of did not connect with me was ok, because the most important moments did. Her graceful public speaking ability was made clear and I admired the composure she possessed while behind the podium.  Often while she talked I pictured the words she was saying in the form of text in a book and I was saddened when the time came to turn the last page.

Saturn

Mary Gordon’s speech tonight was intellectual and thought provoking. However the moment that most captured my mind was when she presented the picture of ‘Saturn’ by Francisco Goya. Never before had I seen a painting that captured an image of pure savage like behavior. In the painting the god Saturn is seen with wild eyes and an open mouth as he takes a bite out of a human body. The head of the body is already removed along with one of the person’s arms, as if Saturn had been devouring him for a while. Saturn appears almost illuminated as his body is contrasted against a dark background; his face looks as if he was caught in an act.

During the question and answer time after Gordon’s speech a Saint Mary’s student explained that while in Spain her class studied the painting in detail. While discussing the artwork her teacher proclaimed that the partially eaten body was supposed to represent Saturn’s son. He lived in a time of war and it was said that Saturn was afraid that his children would soon overtake his power, so upon their birth he ate them one by one. While Gordon respond to this information she made a good point. She pointed out that the body was not one of a child, but instead a fully matured person. She said that the painting represented the rage that Saturn and Goya both holstered at that time in their lives. Regardless of what the true meaning behind the painting was, it’s still an attention-grabbing image that leaves the viewer with a feeling of slight revulsion.