James Baldwin: "Notes of a Native Son"

In the story, "Notes of a Native Son", written by James Baldwin is about a father and son relationship towards the hatred of race relations in midcentury America. James Baldwin was born in Harlem of 1942 and he was a preacher. He and his father had an odd relationship. They did not get along and the only spoken words that he could remember were when his father had asked him, you would rather write than preach?" His father was also a preacher who knew everything from Louis Armstrong to Sodom and Gamorrah. His father hated the way things were going in Harlem because he grew up where violence and hatred between blacks and whites took place. His father always had his guard up especially when it came to the Whites. He could not trust or surround himself around them because he had felt they could not be trusted. He also told the narrator that his white friends are not his true friends and that they would do anything to keep a black person down. Coming from this, the narrator could not believe his words because he thought they were descent people. However, one day after the fourth visit of a restaurant, he had noticed that Black or Negros were not to be served. From this he realized, that the Whites were no longer descent people.

Though the narrator did not have a good memory about his father, he wished he knew his father the way others felt about him. Living in Harlem and his father saying hatred things on Whites that were true were difficult between their relationships. It made it difficult for them to agree on things and to really have a father and son relationship. His father was born in New Orleans and was of the first generation of free men so he knew the result of violence toward hatred between blacks and whites. The narrator concluded that even if he and his father had their differences, he had learned to abide to his actions and to have found the reasons why people cling on to their hates. It is because they sense, once hate is gone, that they will be forced to deal with the pain. He had realized that his father wanted to show him off before the members of the church and that he had not been cruel. This relates to his relationship towards his father because the blacks and whites will always have their differences and that hatred will continue to grow. Also, the most important thing is mankind; to appreciate the things that are in front of you because once it is gone, it is gone forever. His father had died of Tuberculosis and for the sake of the narrator; it was hard seeing his father lying in the casket because he knew they did not have a close relationship. The narrator wished that he could have known his father so that he could get answers but now it is in the hands of his future.

Reflection: The Code

In the story, “The Code” by Frankie Lennon, I liked how the narrator had a lot of aunts and how she was respected by “The Code.” The Code was based on living through customs, rules, and values. My family had our own customs, rules, and values that was restricted on me until the day I die. Since, the narrator had an aunt who she disliked, I had an aunt who I loved but disapproved of my actions. I had an aunt who did not mind taking care of me while my mom was at work. However, she tried to do things her way but she was also respected by our family customs, rules, and values. Things changed dramatically when I started attending high school.

I was a sophomore in high school and I was already under the influence in going out and coming home late. My friends were always at my house during the weekdays and these actions made my aunt think that I was a bad girl or someone who was not respecting the customs, rules, and values made upon the household I was living in. At that time, I did not care what was going through her mind because who was she to judge me. One day, I was frustrated because I had heard news coming from my younger brother that she was talking garbage behind my back. I felt that I was disrespected because coming from an aunt in whom I adored and respected were saying things to random people such as our neighbors about my business. I decided to tell my mom about it and she had a talk with my aunt. My aunt denied the whole thing but my mom had believed me because there were similar stories in the past due to this type of situation. I had wanted to confront her about it and I wanted to tell her that I wasn't someone who was sleeping around and not care about my family customs. But since I was brought up by my family’s customs, rules, and values, I was learned to stick with it and keep it in the back of my head. Some customs, rules, and values that I had to abide were to act as a mature young woman at all times, respect my elders, appreciate things from my elders and to not talk back in any circumstance.

In the story, “The Code”, the narrator’s aunt in which she disliked was still living under a bitter end of the code, though she was living a good life. My aunt was strict and she wanted things her way. As of today, my aunt is in the same exact place, but she got other things to worry about besides me living each day as a lesson. I still adore and respect her because of the things she has done for me but by the end of the day, it is about her who I have to worry about.

My Reaction to Brent Staples Essay

In “Just Walk on By: Black Men and Public Space” by Brent Staples, I came across a black man who was judge by appearance of how he looked, dressed, and walked. His first victim was a white woman who looked at him as if he was going to attack her. Attack her in a way of being a mugger, a rapist, or worse. I identified a white woman who stereotyped the black man in an open area. Like others, I judge by appearance because of my gender and race. If I was the woman, I will automatically pick up the pace and start walking fast in an open area because females are always getting hurt whether it is being raped, sexually assaulted, whistled, or even started at. Judging only by appearance does not tell you much about a person. I listen to my conscience because in the end, it will haunt me down. However, stereotyping is unethical because as a human, we are suppose to love our “neighbor” majority of the time no matter how he or she looks, dress, walk, or how they approach you at times. I understand where the white woman is coming from because as humans she listens to her inner mind (conscience), but stereotyping the black man was the wrong thing to do. The black man was just walking down the street and minding his own business. As people of society, we do not stereotype on purpose; it comes out naturaly because it is part of who we are. We are always listening to things that makes us to judge others by their first impression. Brent Staples described the black men being stereotyped because everywhere we go, they are always being judged at for no apparent reason. It gave me the perspective that no one has the right to judge except God and that stereotyping needs to end. Even if people are doing it as a part of their daily lifestyle, it is unethical. Until this day, stereotyping by a person’s appearance, still remains.

A Happier Girl

“A Happier Girl” is another blog that I was searching under the category of parents. You can find this blog under http://ahappiergirl.blogspot.com/ entitled “A Happier Girl.” This blog is about a wife and a mother trying to get through life. Under “A Happier Girl,” I chose “Tomorrow my multiple personalities are going to cancel Christmas.” I had chose it because I liked how she prepares herself in doing things before finalizing them, for example, her throwing a big kindergartener birthday party for her child. I find it a great thing because like me, I like to plan things out before actually putting on the final piece. It is like the art of writing because before even coming up with a thesis, we free write and then plan out what we want to talk about in the paper. I enjoyed this author’s blog and I also thought she had the disorder of multiple personality; however, she just has a lot to do that she won’t have time to even plan a perfect Christmas.

Colored with Memories

Searching through topsites.blogflux.com, I came across the category of parents. Under Colored with Memories, I chose “Preschool has Begun” because by looking at the title, I wanted to get in depth of what the author was going to talk about. The title caught my attention and by the mini phrases under the title, I read that it is about a mother trying to stay humored by the “material” her children provide her with on a daily basis. I continued my reading and I had found out that she enjoys spending time with her children and as a mother she has the passion to teach her child how to be involved. Her first project was to help her child to decorate her school bag. I also had found that she makes her time worth while because if not she doesn’t feel accomplished. So that is why I think it is titled, “Colored with Memories” because every moment spending time with her child is an accomplishment whether it is decorating or helping her how to write her name on every project she is assigned to. http://justusgibsons.blogspot.com/

Fetish for Blue

I am a very observant person so if I see something that I am interested in, I will constantly be thinking about it. When I was a little girl, I had noticed that the color of the sky was blue. That is when I first saw the color blue by looking up at the sky. Looking at the sky had set my problems and frustrations away. As I grew older, I questioned what would it mean if the sky turned gray one day. Would it mean a day filled with grief, happiness, or disappointment. I fell in love with the color blue the very first time I opened the crayola box filled with all the colorful crayons. I had picked the blue crayon because it looked "cool". However, I had to know why I was interested with the color "blue".

To me blue means "to refresh". Blue gives me the idea to relax and that all I need to do is stop for a moment and to take it easy. Blue is the color that has represented me until this day because unlike any other color, it brings my frown into a smiley face by the end of the day. Blue is the color I see in every angle from the sky to the ground. I love everything that has the color blue or the outlining of a letter that is blue. You could just say I am obsessed with any shade that is under the category of blue, for example, navy blue, baby blue, persian blue, dodger blue, and carolina blue.

In my daily life, I need to have a pair of blue jeans because it matches with any top I own and it goes along with a blue bracelet or a pair of blue earrings. I also have a fetish when boys wear a blue sneakers, jeans, and a hat. Blue is everywhere, from shoes to clothing wear. Blue has been a part of me for a long time and I can't help myself but purchase another blue top, jeans, jewelry, scarf, beanie, sunglasses, slippers, belt, packpack, folder, pen, or cups and plates for occasions. Blue will always be my number one color because it keeps me stable and intact. It reminds me that even though there are a lot of things to do in life, I need to be happy and release all the non important things that will prevent me from "dreaming". I can also look up at the sky and say, "Today is going to be an exquisite day."

How Do I Feel About Writing

Writing hasn't always been easy because I did not find it interesting. I did not find it interesting because I had two new english teachers when I was in high school. I did not learn anything but to write a one paragraph reflection in our daily journal and how to revise it. Two of my english teachers did not teach me the basics such as how to come up with a thesis statement and how to provide specific details when it comes to sentences until the last quarter. All I can remember is going to class and reading poems, books, and other people's journals. These skills that I have learned in high school have not helped me and that is why i find writing not interesting.