Honestly, much hasn't changed since after this lecture. I have discovered my beliefs and perspectives on the entire subject matter before this class. I once was fairly skeptical of the whole matter-not particularly sure of what was going on in the southern states. I've certainly grown up as a naive young girl, and a daddy's girl at that. So anything my father would lecture, I couldn't help but always second his notion. On particular occasions, I would remembering experiencing other thoughts my family had to say about it. Kristi, one of my older cousins, works in Miami as a physical therapist. While she grew up in England, France, Ohio etc. she still remains down to earth and quite refreshing. I remember her mentioning how she was starting to learn Spanish because so many of her patients were Latino. "Isn't that somewhat burdensome?" I asked. And she replied, "Not at all. That's the way of life down there. Learning the language helps me do my job better, and allows me to enjoy the life style better. If anything, it's a cumbersome not knowing the language." An interesting aspect-one I had never thought of. I took this comment to heart. Sometime later, though I can;t specifically recall when, I had a lovely conversation with my grandmother who was adamant about researching the history of Native Americans. She once spoke to me of how horrific it must have been to see your land and people taken out from underneath you. The terms "barbaric" and "savages," after all, only came about because of Europeans. They were given such an awful connotation, but only because Europeans brought it out in them. Even in Little House and the Prairie, from Laura Ingalls Wilder, described the Native American coming into their house as obtrusive, my grandmother pointed out that this wasn't ever the case. That was their land, and the "so called Americans" were taking it from them. My family has certainly opened my eyes to a vast deal of opinions, and while my dad was never prejudice, I always felt like he took a much too conservative outlook on things. Thanks to others, my outlook has become more balanced into a realization of: there's nothing we can truly do. I do find a difference in immigration of a new country and from the present day situation. This being said, we need to take a completely new approach as to how we handle immigration. The whole green card thing and what not is too long of a process, and there are much too many loopholes, which I'm sure a great majority of people have taken advantage of. Something else must be done. What it is, I have absolutely no idea.

What's interesting to me is how easily someone could misinterpret this information. When I first heard this statistic, I was instantly drawn to the reason, "How racist!" But after some thought, this shifted as I looked back at my High School, those around me, and furthermore, the economy. As I've mentioned before, Edinboro exists twenty minutes south of Erie, the utter definition of blue collar depression. Edinboro on the other hand, specializes in farming. As we have learned in class, the majority of black people living in the United States live in concentrated regions. Edinboro and Erie are NOT those regions. How then, is it the responsibility of General McLane to ensure the equal percentages of races? Should they recruit blacks and latinos to come to General McLane hgh school? I think not. Certainly Erie, an actual city contains more variety than my little home town, yet nothing too disproportional-white people still make up the majority. Segregation-such an ugly word! Just as "negro" was once common, so was the term "segregation." I detest this word. It does not represent the school proportionality correctly. The movie, "Save the Last Dance," (yes, an MTV, chic flick classic) centered the story line upon an "all black, inner-city school." The man character, though I forget her name, I believe it was Sarah, struggles to fit in. She is the only white student amongst the majority of african americans. We see this concept everywhere. "Well, I went to an all black school"...."I went to a mostly hispanic high school"..."There were like, two black people in my whole high school"...etc. Guess what, this is not racism! High schools are based upon the region, and lo and behold, if the region is made up of mostly farmers, hispanics or african americans, the local high school will be as well! And of course there are differences between private and public high schools. Since I have only experienced the wraths of a public high school, I would be assuming private high schools are based on the economics of the area. Regardless, the fact remains that high schools are based on location. What's interesting, however, is the fact that peoples have migrated significantly. As we have looked in class, there are concentrations of blacks and hispanics. Apparently this didn't used to be the case-which is something to consider. I would have honestly thought the exact opposite. Although, to be honest, I never once saw an african american farmer in Edinboro. As I've learned, during the Great Depression, as well as WWII, many african americans migrated to cities because of the lack of subsidies and programs for blacks. While the government had indeed provided certain loans and subsidies to farmers during these tough times, they certainly made it much more difficult for farmers of different races to attain them. It's no wonder, then, that schools have become less varied.

I really think this depends on the situation. If you were at an air terminal, surrounded by Italians laughing and conversing, you might feel out of place. If you were being yelled at by a policeman from another country who did not speak English, this may start to feel uncomfortable. I honestly think this can depend on whether people are familiar with other cultures and languages. When I went to Germany my senior year in high school, I had a great time for the most part. I was with Americans who were in the same boat as me, and I knew enough German that if I was to ever get in trouble, I could get myself out of it. Additionally, I had a great friend who knew German fluently, and he helped translate various aspects quite a bit. Yet there were some times when I felt uncomfortable in Germany. When we first arrived at Frankfurt, for example, we had to pass through international security. Everything was stark clean, and quiet. We had to individually pass through security, where they inspected us and our passports. That was certainly a terrifying time-not that I had anything to hide, yet I felt anxious being held under such scrutiny. Another time I felt somewhat uncomfortable was when my friend and I tried on beer garden outfits. We were doing this for fun, while proper Germans actually buy these clothes for formal use-not as costumes. My friend I didn't realize this until we were yelled at harshly. Immediately we got out of there, and laughed at ourselves. While I find it somewhat amusing now, I still remember that feeling of getting yelled at, and being treated as an ignorant American tourist-which I certainly was. Respecting a culture is vital, I believe when in another country or being near others who do not speak English. Surrounded by those who speak Italian, or German or Norwegian might be uncomfortable under certain circumstances. If you don't know the people, you might find this somewhat awkward, even more so if they're acting suspicious or laughing pointedly at you. However, if you are the instigator of uncomfortable-ness, for instance, giving the Italians, Germans, or Norwegians dirty looks, they might just act threatening towards you. The most typical result-self-fulfilling prophecy, as well as learning the importance of respecting other cultures. Fortunately, I have friends who live in Belgium. They have been family friends for years now, and when they speak German, I find it exceptionally interesting. I love to ask them how to say so and so, or cultural traditions. Because I have grown up around this other culture and openness, I am not intimidated by people who speak a foreign language openly, I would hope that I will always feel this way no matter what culture or ethnicity. As I've mentioned, there can be times and situations when you know you've done something wrong, and the most natural reaction should feel uncomfortable.

Although I live in the small town of Edinboro, Pa, where only two black were in my grade, and five total out of the entire high school, I still felt comfortable around race. Perhaps because where I'm form, I was the majority. Who knows how my classmates must have felt surrounded by hundreds of white faces. Regardless of my personal comfort, I knew many people who were somewhat racist. Many of my classmates grew up on farms, and tended to grow up in prejudice family tradition. Although I consider myself fairly accepting and comfortable around different races, I certainly was surprised when I arrived to Penn State. Not because there were many blacks, but because of so many Asians! They cluster in groups and-believe it or not, somewhat intimidate to me. I was studying my freshman year for finals and I took a break to call my boyfriend. A few minutes into my conversation, an Asian girl sat directly beside on the same step I was sitting on in a stairwell. In disbelief, I stared at her with my mouth open. She continued to converse in Chinese less than a foot away from me! I had no idea if she was merely playing a little prank on me, but I couldn't help but feel incredibly offended. Here I was, talking in privacy, and she sits less than a foot away in my personal space! Looking back now, I realize how Eastern perspectives tend to be more holistic and interdependent, whereas Western cultures are more independent and tend to rely on others less. So while I felt extremely out of place, she had no idea she was doing anything wrong. Penn State has certainly opened my eyes. I have certainly noticed how little diversity Penn State offers. This class, in fact, formulates the more diverse groups of people. It's interesting to me how my friends from Philadelphia tell me how "white" Penn State is. To me, this is the most diverse communities I have ever lived in. Regardless, I am perfectly content with the student diversity. What I find troublesome, however, are the many cultures which seem to be stereotyped. What I've come to terms with are not differential races, but rather, the different cultures. To me, they are the only difference between a black, brown and white person. When the asian girl sat oddly close to me, that was the moment when I felt an uncomfortable feeling toward asians. But now, I realize this is because our cultures are polar opposite! No wonder I felt so taken aback, yet she had no idea anything was wrong. I still have a lot to learn about people and all the different cultures. I feel as though once people start to recognize and appreciate the different cultures, our world will start to become a much better place.

This is such a great question! Kudos! I can't help but over think everything-a habit which has always haunted me. Now, I'm starting to question my "sitting patterns" and whether I'm subconsciously judging people based on their skin color. I certainly would like to think I am capable of controlling my cognitive perspectives, but I certainly do believe these subconscious thoughts exists in most peoples minds. Every single person in my race and ethnics recitation claim they are not racist, or rather, they do not believe there are any differences between a "white" or "black" person. But then I think to myself, "Well what racist person would take a race and ethnics course?" So while everyone in this class may be wondering what the hell Sam is talking about half the time (for instance, a white person not helping a black person pick up their books etc) maybe there are some subliminal exceptions. I was with my boyfriend the other day getting a pizza. I waited in the car, while he went in to Little Caesars for a hot and ready. From the car, I noticed two black males, looking particularly sketchy, as they held clothes up to their faces, as if hiding something. Immediately, I locked the car door and thought to myself, "Am I scared of these guys because they look shady or because they're black?" Well, realistically I'd like to think it's because they looked sketchy, but how would I be able to measure the same situation if they were two white guys? I think a lot of people would like to think they wouldn't do this or that in the specific situations Sam gives us, but with all the media's attention centered on violence, homicides, rapes etc., it's difficult to have a positive outlook. Based on previous experiences, it's so easy to estimate the "safety" of a person's skin tone. As I went to a doctor's appointment the other day, I entered the waiting room and sat to the far left of two other black women. What if these women were white? Would I still choose to not sit right beside them? I consciously think "yes." But how am I supposed to know this? So while I really am starting to dislike Sam for various reasons, one in particular, accusations of certain races, he certainly has introduced new ideas. Latent prejudice, for instance, seems applicable to most people, I would say. What I have concluded about myself, and my evaluations of other people, is that culture can play a major role. Not all black people wear their pants low and "bling," just as not all white people wear Ralph Lauren. These stereotypes end up reflecting culture and ethnics, not race.

I wouldn't necessarily say they are more expressive. I would say they get more attention from the media. Where does all of the major news come from? Typically not from the boon docks. No, most media comes from major populations. Where do most black and brown people live? In the cities. Where I'm from, the extent of major news stories ranges from "Woman counterfeits 2 dollar bill" (this is no joke) to Local High school football qualifies to Semi-State Finals." Simply, I am from a very small town, where the only diversity ranges in different types of dairy cows. I have, however, experienced the "trailer park" characters. In fact, "Erie-ites" as they've been called many a time, are similar to Tammy-except with more layers. I have grown up around "white trash" as some may call them. Erie, the "city" 20 minutes north of my small hometown, is very industrial (also considered a blue collar city.) The city consists of poverty, snow, white people, black people, snow, suicides and a branch of General Electrics. In other words, Erie is an incredibly depressing town. BUT, I've noticed people are happy there. Many locals are satisfied with Erie and all it's snow and industry. Erie does not get much national attention, not that typical homicides and suicides are anything to report. The gangs...pretty much non existent. The robberies...most people are too stupid to get away with. The houses...trailer parks, old run-down Victorians, old-run down brick buildings. And yet-locals are still happy! They are satisfied with the community they have created, or rather, done nothing at all to. Don't get me wrong-there are some nice parts of Erie. There are a few wealthy areas on the Lake of Erie, where the country clubs consist of the stereotypical golf courses, tan, skinny, blond people. But this truly is such a small percentage of the city. When I met my roommates who were from Philadelphia, they introduced me to store brands I had never even heard of! I have been isolated by American Eagle, Abercrombie&Fitch! I find it funny how to some people happiness exists in their clothes and material, while to others, happiness is in their family and friends. So maybe not all of the Erie-ites aren't happy with their conditions, they aren't nationally voicing their concerns. Compared to larger cities which contains larger crimes, such as homicides, robbery, gangs etc, Erie is nothing. America doesn’t see a lot of Tammy’s out there. We are constantly exposed to the projects, gangs and rough neighborhoods in larger cities. It seems as though people assume, then, that these are the most common rough patches in America. This frustrates me thoroughly! Class certainly wasn’t an eye opener, it was a reassurance.

This concept doesn't surprise me, unfortunately, yet I still believe this is ignorance at its fullest. My dad, who attained his PhD with a wife, three kids (two of which were twins) all before the age of thirty, is one of the most inspiring people I know. My father was adopted, and lacked the parental support to drift along in life. None of his adopted siblings went to college; in fact, my adopted aunt suffers from drug addiction, while my uncle dropped out of high school. My dad has talked to my aunt and uncle about their decisions in life, and they haven't exactly thought too much about what they could have done. Perhaps they are satisfied with their lives, and the fact that their children are also pursuing similar choices. My father, on the other hand, had a job by twelve years old, joined the high school varsity basketball, football and tennis teams, saved up enough money to go to college, got accepted at University of Illinois, and finally, went to Missouri for grad school. He is one of the hardest workers I know, and he accomplished this all on his own! He amazes me in so many ways. Besides all of this, he has never once made a comment about intelligence, hard work and education. Similar to his diligence characteristic, he is also extremely modest,but I would certainly be interested to hear his opinion on this subject matter. Not many people accomplish what he has done without the financial and emotional support from parents/family.
I think that's the difference between those who go above and beyond their limits, and those who reach expectations. Expectations meaning, those of parents who provide the money and support to achieve a college degree. I remember one time, my dad woke up to not being able to get up from bed. His back was in such pain, he couldn't even get out of bed. He called and called for his mom to come help him, but she never came. His adopted mother never abused him verbally or physically, but she certainly didn't nurture him. That morning when my dad couldn't get up, my dad's adopted brother called him a chiropractor and took care of him. This story fascinates me on so many levels, particularly because I can't imagine my mom not helping me if I was crying out for help. To this day, my adopted grandmother never calls us. Every Christmas, however, my dad forces us to talk to her on the phone. Every Christmas, it's the same, "I love you so much, even though I don't call..." And I can't help but lie back, "I love you, too." After all she hasn't done for my father, he still attempts to call her and take care of her. As I've said, my dad is one of the most respectful people I know. To me, I feel like whether my dad had accomplished all of those things or not, I still would love and respect him just as much. His character and intelligence led him to work hard and accomplish his dream life. Regardless of his education, I feel like success was in his fate.

I have been fascinated by this habitual concept for quite some time now. I too, also proudly refer to myself as German, Polish, Scottish and Italian, as well as a genuine American. So which to choose? My senior year of high school, I went on a senior trip to Germany, Switzerland and Liechtenstein. My friends and I spent ten days roaming the quaint streets of various small villages, window shopping throughout larger cities, and of course, drinking much delicious German beer at beer gardens, clubs and bars. Needless to say, we all had an amazing time! However, I couldn't help but notice how much my friends and I stuck out. Certainly we did come across as loud, obnoxious tourists at times, yet even when we weren't gawking at every single little cobblestone, Germans were gawking at us! If there's one thing I've learned in psych 100, it's that humans are always trying to be accurate. Meaning, conformity occurs regardless of the many cultures, peoples, and of course, attempts to defy it. So, as I found myself in Munich surrounded by looks of perplexity and sometimes disapproval, I couldn't help but shy away from my American culture. Later in the week, although, I had an epiphany after visiting Dachau, one of the most horrific concentration camps in Germany. I had just toured the "showers" and crematory and was overtaken with so much emotion, that I couldn't believe my ears when I heard laughter! Ahead of me, I noticed a tour group of German students, smoking cigarettes and laughing...at first I felt confused, then a wave of anger overcame me. I could not believe how incredibly disrespectful those German students were. To this day, I still cannot fathom what was going through those student's heads. So as I walked behind their laughter and smoke towards the gates which so many prisoners found themselves locked behind, I felt a sudden American pride. No longer did I feel embarrassed to be the loud, stereotypical tourist, but rather, an American. Although I am in fact, German, I can't help but emphasize my American culture. The next night in Germany, my friends and I went to a bar where we met some German students, around our ages. And I'm proud to say, they didn't even need to ask us where we were from-they knew we were American.

For such an anal freak that I am, I would think classifying myself would be simple. Yet I can't help but double think, let alone classify everything I believe. In summary, most would look at me and classify me as "white girl." But I am much more than that...I am German/Polish/Italian/Scottish, the daughter of two loving parents, the twin of a (for the most part) caring brother, a younger sister of an extraordinarily intelligent sister, the best friend of girl who always understands, and the girlfriend of a man who understands me like no one else (gag! I know...) Point being, my family and friends classify me as many things, and they know me best. However, classifying how I perceive myself is much more perplexing.
Coming across as arrogant or cocky is something I have NEVER wished to achieve. This trait, or rather classification disgusts me thoroughly. So if someone were to ask me if I was a great athlete in high school, I don't wish to tell them, "I competed in eight state championship meets in cross country, swimming and track."
Nor would I answer, "I've been on Dean's List ever since I got to Penn State." To me, pride and arrogance are two completely different things. Both responses, though true, come off as cocky to me. Pride would be responding with, "I was a pretty good athlete in high school..." or, "I have pretty good grades"...So basically I have limited myself from defining accomplishments in order to not be classified as something I do not wish to be. Sure, I could just say I am a Penn State student and part take in various campus activities, but that's not deep enough to me. Limiting oneself, such as I constantly tend to do, is very depressing. I hate labels. I wish we could all just speak our minds without any underlying intents others might perceive.
While I am frightened as coming off as cocky or arrogant, I tend to undermine myself. My twin has always been considered the one "good at math and science." And lo and behold, here I am at Penn State studying Nutritional Sciences, while he is studying Industrial Engineering. His is clearly more intimidating-to me. But this is my OPINION. To him, Nutritional Sciences might be construed as something he could never academically achieve. What I am trying to say is that it's easy to classify other people. But how easy is it to classify yourself when you're constantly trying to please yourself and people? I may not need to please my close family and friends, but what about professors? How will they classify you when you try not to be classified as "ignorant" or "stupid?" Will you end up trying too hard not too look dense, and as a result, not fulfill your real identity? So...classifying....more complicated to the anal individual like me. I am classified as anal.