Scared to be a Woman?

“Why Do We Teach Girls That It’s Cute To Be Scared?” asks author Caroline Paul. Paul, a firefighter in San Francisco, shares her experience in the New York Times about being a female firefighter and the questions she is asked as a result. Paul claims that the dominant question was “aren’t you scared?”   Continue reading


Special Snowflakes


I’m sure we’ve all seen them- the “special snowflakes”, that is. If you’ve been on Tumblr for a while, there is almost a guarantee that you’ve probably come across more than one of these “special snowflakes”. They are the ones complaining about being oppressed because people do not cater to their self-diagnosed mental illnesses or some special preference they made up to get more attention and sympathy. Continue reading

Blissful Ignorance or Selective Perception?

It is one of the most unsettling things to think that nobody else will ever see something the way you see something. Perception plays one of the biggest roles in our lives, helping us determine if there is danger present and such. Our perception is what constitutes how we make decisions and live our lives, perhaps that is why we live such different lives from each other. It is also why a Mexican would be more likely to perceive a traditional Mexican setting, and why an American would be more likely to perceive a traditional American setting when shown images of both:

The results [of the study conducted]… indicate a strong tendency for subjects to see the scenes from their own culture rather than the scenes from an unfamiliar culture.

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Memoir of a Bibliophile

It was the turn of the century in a bright room that was messy in the way that only having a toddler around the house can constitute. In the room there were two special items. One of those items was an expensive leather bound journal filled with elegant cursive writing, the other being a pink children’s journal filled with nonsensical scribbles, both lying on the bookshelf. Every night my grandmother would go and grab the larger of the two, then pass the smaller pink one to me as I was bouncing eagerly at her feet. When she would hand me my pink, fluffy pen, I’d dash to the coffee table, where I’d open up to a random page and attempt to write my name. Sometimes my mother would sit down with me and write my name at the top of the page for me to copy, other times I would watch my grandmother write in her fancy cursive and attempt to copy it in a series of scribbles. Those were my earliest memories of writing.


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A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

In the essay “Ways of Seeing”, the author describes how images and seeing are one of the most important senses to us humans. The author describes how we see before we can talk, and how much weight seeing has in our lives.

It is seeing which establishes our place in the surrounding world; we explain that world with our words, but words can never undo the fact that we are surrounded by it. The relation between what we see and what we know is never settled.

It is this quote that establishes the gap between the complexity of the world we visually see versus the way we can verbally describe what we are seeing. The author uses the sunset as an example; the sun always sets, and we possess the knowledge to understand why the sun sets, yet we are stuck in trying to conjure up the way to perfectly describe the exact shade of the golden honey sun rays as they sank beneath the crystalline ocean waves whilst the chilly dusk breeze left goosebumps upon your arms. The truth is that no matter how well we might describe a situation to others, no matter how many adjectives we may use and how many little details we may remember, nothing will tell a better story than a picture. I guess that’s why they say a picture is worth a thousand words. Continue reading