Nobody is can claim superiority over another human being. After all, it was even stated in our Declaration of Independence, that “all men are created equal.” So, all people, regardless of their religion or beliefs, are equal. This can then be extended to encompass races. No race is more superior to another. So, to answer the question of whether I think the Sandusky scandal would be affected if Sandusky were black or Latino, I really don’t think the events would have changed if Sandusky was of another race. As long as he had the power he did- as well as the influence he had- his race would have no impact on the scandal. His wrongdoings and their cover-up would still be able to stir Penn State. Of course, you could get into a debate that if he was of a different race, he might have been perceived differently. Then maybe he would have had a different life, and not made the decisions he did, right? But, let’s say that even if he still chose to do the things that he did, and people covered up his tracks until many years later, the acts he committed are the same level or horrible-ness as they would be committed by any other person, be it a Mexican, Russian, British, Indian, or Chinese. The law does not discriminate based on race when it comes to sexual abuse, so Sandusky would not receive any different court decisions had he been a different race. It makes me sad that this question is even asked. Don’t get me wrong; this question is great in its complexity. I just pity that we as a human population separate ourselves so much based on race and beliefs. Why is it that we choose to differentiate between ourselves? Even more saddening, why is it that we automatically view our opinions as superior to those of others? I understand that we must hold some merit in our beliefs; otherwise we would not believe them. Yet, what makes the beliefs of others less veritable? It might be hypocritical of me to critique this idea, seeing how I have been guilty of it myself. I have long since made it my goal to dispel such notions out of my mind, yet I find it sad that it had existed there to begin with. When I begin to think about this, I feel like there exists an impossible conundrum. On one hand, not one belief is truer than another; on the other, how can we fully believe in something if we cannot think it is the truth? I have seriously been sitting here trying to find a way to solve this puzzle for the longest time, yet honestly? I just don’t know. I just…don’t know.

Honestly I’ve heard so much talk about the scandal over the past few days. I first heard about it on Friday last week, but never did I think it would explode to such huge proportions as it had. And in such a short time, too! On Wednesday alone I had three classes with discussions focused on the scandal. I had my Soc 119 (Race and Ethnic Relations) discussion in the afternoon then went directly to the West Meets Middle East discussion. Later that evening I went to the World in Conversations discussion, where once more the topic turned to the Sandusky scandal. In Soc 300 we came to what I thought was a deep insight: that what is currently happening to the students here at Penn State is analogous to what happened to Muslims post 9/11. While this is very sad that more people should suffer, I think this can be a great step toward understanding between Americans- or at least Penn State Americans- and Muslims. To address the question for this blog, I find it so sad that this issue has gotten blown out of proportion as far as it has. I feel that the crimes and the cover-up should not have been attached as they have to Penn State as a school, but rather as wrong-doings of individuals who were at Penn State. It’s a very sad thing when people are more upset about Joe Paterno losing the job he was inevitably going to retire from than the justice for the victims in the actual crime. And don’t even get me started on the rioting. That honestly frustrates me so much. While I find the manner with which Joe Paterno was fired to be rude, I do see the reasoning behind why he was. That said, I can also see where the initial group of people who wanted to rally were coming from. I just think it got way out of control and ended up contradicting what they were protesting for. I don’t think violence should ever be the answer to anything. If you ask if it might be the answer for the problem of violence, I would reply that maybe the violence problem wasn’t the right answer to an even earlier problem. Later Wednesday night I read the twenty three page Grand Jury Report because I was curious, and a friend recommended me to read it. It was so sickening to read that it took me a while to get through it. I just feel so many emotions about this issue that I can’t really discern what I’m feeling. I feel like many other students felt the same way as me, and chose the riot to just vent some of that emotion out. Sadly, the media honed on the violent acts of a couple students to make the whole of our school look bad. It will take time, but I think this will eventually die down, and ever so slowly we can rebuild our reputation that shouldn’t have been tarnished to begin with.

Regarding this question, a complex question again comes to my mind. I am so interested in the cultures of others. When I hear the way a person speaks another language, it sounds like they are singing or something. Each language has its own melody to it, and it’s honestly so fascinating hearing the same thing said two completely different ways. My mom has told me that she used to take me to all of the international students at the local university when I was a baby and have them speak to me in their native tongue. She hoped that being exposed to all of these different languages would help me have an ear, so to speak, for language when I was older. In this sense I am not at all uncomfortable with people talking in different languages around me. I am most proud of my curiosity, for, as Big Bird says on Sesame Street, “Asking questions is a good way of finding answers.” I always have questions, so I’m very receptive to answers. My teachers commend me for my readiness to learn. It might seem simply like good behavior for the class, but I just really want to learn. I want to get as much knowledge as I can, so I can better understand this sometimes esoteric world. My curiosity has compelled me to schedule three independent studies for my senior year. Since I was little, my family has traveled all over the world, experiencing cultures in Asia, Europe, and North America. I have attempted ethnic dances from as many cultures possible, like Bhangra from India and Ethiopia’s ethnic dance. I have also taken salsa lessons, which I hope to teach to the members of my school Spanish club that my friend and I founded. Another ethnic dance that I enjoy is that from Greece. Every year my family attends a local Greek festival where a band plays such catchy authentic Greek music that people in the audience get up to dance. And who’s right up at the front of the dancing line? That’s right: I am. I might look silly at first, being a beginner after all, but the joy of learning something new outshines any embarrassment or shyness. This joy of learning and curiosity of mine inspires me to continue asking, continue learning, and continue finding answers. On the other hand, I can think of times when being around people who speak a different language made me uncomfortable. It wasn’t the fact that they were speaking that language around me, but rather, it was the fact that I couldn’t understand what they were saying so much I felt excluded from the conversation. I speak a little of my father’s native language, but I’m completely fluent. Because of this, I have felt slightly excluded at times during Bangladeshi parties or functions. I love Bengali, and I love hearing it, but it makes me feel disappointed with myself when I don’t understand and therefore can’t follow the conversation. I want to become fluent in Bengali, and I used to be really close to achieving that. With time and lack of practice, though, my ability to speak the language has slipped away, and that’s a very sad thing.

To me there exists a distinction between being unaware of the intricacies of another race and being racist. I view racism as a conscious effort to make another person uncomfortable based on their race. Now that I think about it, I feel like racism can extend to encompass discrimination based on religion as well. In fact I think any discrimination against anything deemed “different” is a form of racism. Personally I can’t recall an exact moment when any acts of racism have happened to me. I have seen examples of racist acts on TV, in movies, in books, and in other stuff like that, but in person? I have witnessed people discriminated for being a different social and economic class. It’s always sad seeing the poor people begging for money in big cities. My father is from Bangladesh, so I have been there on numerous occasions to visit the family I have there. In Bangladesh some beggars even come up to the windows of your car and knock on it. I feel very sad about it, yet I also feel a sense of fear. I worry about what they might feel compelled to do if I refuse to acknowledge their presence. My relatives just nonchalantly shoo them away because they’re used to it by now. I didn’t realize it, but they told me that these beggars are for the most part not even homeless and are actually quite wealthier than they make it seem. Begging has almost become a career for them, and it’s really sad. One controversial issue that I still don’t know the answer to is whether choosing to date or not date based on the other person’s religion should be considered discrimination or if it is a valid reason. In high school I had a really big crush on this one guy. He was-and still is I guess- a very strong Christian, and I’m a Muslim, yet I didn’t think of it as that big of a problem. Little did I know that it was a major issue for him. I just remember writing a note “to him” with no intention of actually giving it to him, of course, that vented my frustration about it. In my letter I said, “Does it seriously matter that much to you that I have a different belief than you? Are you seriously that shallow? Sure we may not see eye to eye on some things, but I sincerely hope that you’re mature enough to respect my belief like I respect yours. I can’t believe you think a girl’s not good enough if she isn’t Christian. I really thought you were about that. I guess I was wrong.” Thinking back on it, however, I realize that he wasn’t disrespecting my religion. He wished to date a Christian girl, so he’d have more in common with her; so he could share his passion in his faith with her. Now, I can sit back and realize that that’s not discrimination, but then I felt it was unfair.

10/21/2011
I really don’t think there is a set answer for the question, “Are people who hang out in mixed crowds posers?” My gut reaction was to reply with a firm “no,” however, as I think harder on the question I can see where there is room for an agreement to the question. I guess my answer would have to be that posers can hang out with mixed crowds, but hanging out with mixed crowds does not necessarily make you a poser. Because America is comprised of so many people with so numerous backgrounds, there is a high probability that you will interact with people who do not share the same background as you. I think that common interests are what spark friendships. While I’m sure that some people might acquaint themselves with certain people for the sake of saying they’re friends with them, I think friendships that last must have some underlying commonality, whether it is with interests, culture, geographic location, or many other things. While I’ve lived in America my whole life, I still find from time to time that there’s a certain gap between my American friends and me. This gap of course isn’t so drastic for me to keep us from being friends; it’s merely a slight misunderstanding that comes from growing up with different backgrounds and cultures. I feel that some values I was raised up with differ from those of fellow Americans. That being said, there’s nothing wrong with the values they were raised up with. I have learned that, though a person’s lifestyle and beliefs may be different from mine, our purposes in life are the same. We all are here to live the best life we can, and our cultures provide the rudiments to do so. I also want to briefly delve into the concept of home for this blog entry. For me, my home is Edinboro, PA, simply because that’s the only place I have lived in, and it’s where I grew up. When I walk down the street, I am fairly positive I will see at least one- if not more- person I know and who knows me. I have a special place there; it’s almost like there’s an empty gap in the community that only I can fill. The other people that live there don’t necessarily have the same background as me, yet I still hang out with them and love them dearly. Does that make me a poser? Here in Penn State, I hang out with people who have such a variety of backgrounds and cultures, yet I hang out with them because they make me happy, and I enjoy being with them; not because I wish to assimilate with “their kind.” I put that in quotations because it just sounds so silly to say. No two people are exactly alike, so one technically would be very lonely if they classified all the people who are exactly like them as “their kind.”

I just read the article dealing with happiness and how the way we have perceived it has changed over time. I actually thought it was very interesting comparing how people used to think about happiness in the past and finding it drastically different than the modern perception. I also read some of the comments on the article’s webpage. It seems like people even presently have greatly contrasting viewpoints and opinions on happiness. For me personally, I think you’re only happy when you think you are. And I don’t mean the half-hearted way people say, “Oh yeah, I’m happy” and not actually mean it. You know when you’re lying to yourself. Even when you do lie to yourself about being happy, I’ve found that it has made me happy, if only a tad bit more. There are so many little things that might go unnoticed that can make me happy. I’ve tried to make it my goal to acknowledge those things as they occur. If not immediately after they occur, I sometimes think back on the little miracles that I had missed. I really think that you need happiness in your life, or at least something to feel happy about. Otherwise, what’s the point in living? I remember reading a saying that said, “Every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you’ll never get back.” I choose to be happy. Even when life seems to get too stressful, I remind myself to stay optimistic, and I instantly feel better. My optimism coincides with my cheerfulness. “You’re always so happy!” my friends tell me. In fact, they call me hyper as well. I like smiling; it makes me feel very vivacious. I try making other people smile, so they can feel just as high-spirited as I do. I also find the things that are guaranteed to make me happy and then try to make those things an integral part of my life. I love dancing. It is a huge part of my daily life, and I have put time and effort into learning different dance styles like Bharatanatyam and Ballet. So, when I came to Penn State, I immediately began looking for dance clubs, so I can continue with dance. Even with my busy academic schedule, I devote time to my dance clubs, putting just as much passion into both dance and school. When you enjoy something, you make time for it. I enjoy the activities I participate in, so I make time for each one. For dancing has taught me something: how to be passionate. Being passionate allows me to enjoy life. While taking the time to fulfill my academic responsibilities, I will also save some time to do the things I love, like dancing.

The question I will write about is “What do you think about the fact that girls wear short skirts and high heels and sacrifice their comfort, and guys can wear whatever they want and not worry about looking good?” While there is some truth to this question, I really don’t agree full-heartedly with it. There are plenty of girls who choose not to flounce around in high heels and little to none clothing. On the other side, there are girls who do choose to wear outfits like that. I guess it really depends on the individual girl, not the female population. And really, it’s nice to feel pretty by wearing skirts and dresses. I feel like there is a conception that females should be pretty. In poetry and prose alike, women have often been compared to flowers, and it is true that there are some similarities between the two. Both flowers and girls are beautiful. Poets often compare the beauty of a girl with that of a flower, for example a rose. Also both flowers and girls vary in shape and color. Even individual girls with sisters or individual flowers in a bed of seemingly identical flowers are unique. Like no two girls are truly alike, no two flowers are truly alike. Because girls are not flowers; however, there must be some discrepancies. For instance, flowers are rarely described as strong. Indeed the life of the flower consists only of floating uselessly with the wind, staying put to let bees and wind regenerate life, and finally turning into nutrients when dead to feed new flowers. Girls however are not implanted into the ground, subject to the wind’s billowing orders. Girls need not be pushed and pulled every which way without a say in the matter. Girls need not float through life listlessly. This difference isn’t acknowledged only by girls, though. Guys have noticed as well. I found a quote online by some guy named Will Rogers that read, “Women are not the weak, frail little flowers that they are advertised. There has never been anything invented yet, including war, that a man would enter into, that a woman wouldn't, too.” All of this being said, I have noticed that guys seem to have it easier. It seems like girls have to impress the guys more than the guys have to impress the girls. An example of this is with the cover of the movie “Frat Party” that Dr. Richards showed in class, where the girls were all dressed up and the guy was in jeans and a t-shirt. I think this can be explained with that repeated notion of a man-centered world. Sure women’s rights have improved immensely throughout the years, yet subconscious inequalities have still prevailed. It’s nothing really that can be cured through legislation, sadly, as these inequalities exist in the backs of our minds.

9/30/11

The question, “Why do you think women and other races are viewed as more innocent” seemed like an interesting topic to write about this week. I have never heard of other races being more innocent; maybe this suggests that I myself am innocent and naïve. I take the term “innocent” to mean unknowledgeable regarding a certain matter. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t mind being innocent. I will always be innocent because there will always be something I can learn about. I am most proud of my curiosity, for, as Big Bird says on Sesame Street, “Asking questions is a good way of finding answers.” I always have questions, so I’m very receptive to answers. My teachers in high school have always commended me for my readiness to learn. It might seem simply like good behavior for the class, but I just really want to learn. I want to get as much knowledge as I can, so I can better understand this sometimes esoteric world. My curiosity compelled me to schedule three independent studies for my senior year. Since I was little, my family has traveled all over the world, experiencing cultures in Asia, Europe, and North America. I have attempted ethnic dances from as many cultures possible, like Bhangra from India and Ethiopia’s ethnic dance. I have also taken salsa lessons, which I ended up teaching to the members of my school Spanish club that my friend and I founded. Another ethnic dance that I enjoy is that from Greece. Every year my family attends a local Greek festival where a band plays such catchy authentic Greek music that people in the audience get up to dance. And who’s right up at the front of the dancing line? That’s right: I am. I might look silly at first, being a beginner after all, but the joy of learning something new outshines any embarrassment or shyness. This joy of learning and curiosity of mine inspires me to continue asking, continue learning, and continue finding answers. So, really, I don’t mind being innocent because it’s who I am. In this sense, everyone can be described as innocent, not just a certain race or gender. Certainly, some people are innocent to a greater degree than others, yet I don’t think any one race can be classified as more innocent as a whole. Even the argument that some groups of people are less open about touchy subjects like sex doesn’t prove that these people are truly more innocent. These same people who don’t know much on one topic will know a good deal more on another. So, even if you’re more innocent on a certain subject than the person next to you, they are more innocent on a different subject. And maybe women are viewed as more innocent as a whole than men. Maybe women don’t know as much on certain subjects than men. Or maybe the men are just afraid to ask.

Reading about the challenges in Haiti, and watching the videos of all of the entrepreneurs, I feel so much gratitude for the life that I have been given. I truly have led a privileged life, and I am so thankful that I have never had to face hardships as great as the people in Haiti must face. I think that what we are doing for Haiti is really a great thing that can help them. Please don’t get me wrong, I fully support what we are planning on doing for Haiti, but I’m curious as to why this is initiative only for the benefit of Haiti. Do you think in the future we might extend this initiative to other developing countries? At least for now, we can help one country. I would be even happier if we could help more. For the entrepreneurs in Haiti who were in need of quality-made materials at a lower rate, could we not set up a market between their business and another local business selling materials, or even a local business in another developing country? I just feel like that would as the phrase says, “kill two birds with one stone” so the materials business gets a client and the entrepreneur business gets the materials it needs. Also, I was really enlightened by the two articles on peanut butter and shoes. I volunteered at a local thrift store in my hometown during high school that took in donated clothing and household goods from the community and sold them at a cheaper rate. The money from the purchases was then sent on to other nonprofit organizations. This really helped out the poor in my town (as well as the college students!), and it provided a great sense of community because everyone was able to help each other out. When we received donations that were a little too worn out or that we think wouldn’t sell in our town, we bagged them to ship to developing countries. We also worked with an organization called Soles to Souls by sending shoes that were donated. I always thought that doing this was helping the people overseas so much; never did I realize that it could hurt them. I feel like we could even take what we’re doing here in Soc 119 a step further by getting another company in Haiti to produce the materials or equipment (like the screening machine for Clorene or the folder for Yvrose) and create a networking system within Haiti. Even if we let them buy through us through micro financing, we still keep them dependent upon us. Another thing that we should do is help initiate Clorene’s tag sale. I must admit that I laughed when I saw her using other companies’ tags for her clothes. It reminds me of Bangladesh. People in Bangladesh sometimes emulate American company names to garner business, as seen with the Chinese restaurant Magdonals and Stamford University. I feel like this is evidence of the mindset that American titles-or logos for Clorene-are necessary additions to gain profit. Personally, I think it would be so much cooler if they had their own authenticity broadcasted instead of jumping on the bandwagon. I’m so excited to be a part of this, and I hope we will be able to help.

When asked where I wanted to go for college at age nine, I would promptly answer with “Oxford University!” I had no idea what I would study there or why I truly wanted to go there, but to my nine-year-old self, Oxford was the place to be. Quite silently that notion began to fade away while I was in high school, leaving behind a vacancy no college could lay claim to. In seventh grade I started participating in a science club called the Pennsylvania Junior Academy of Science (PJAS). After getting a first at the regional level, I was able to spend three days here at State College for the state competition. Returning here annually for PJAS, I began familiarizing myself with the buildings, the streets, the feel of Penn State. For me, Penn State had become almost a second home, if only for a transient amount of time. It might sound odd, but this feeling pushed me away from wanting to go here. I’ve lived in the same house my whole life; I wanted some place brand new; I wanted the adventure that is college.

When asked where I wanted to go for college at age fifteen, I would hesitatingly respond with, “I’m not really sure…a good school?” I knew without a doubt that I wanted to go to college; I just didn’t know where. Growing up, I was raised with the assumption that I would go to college and get at least my Master’s if not a PhD, too. Sophomore year was the year I began conducting PJAS experiments dealing with materials. I really liked how experiments with tangible materials could produce intangible mathematical relationships that could in turn predict tangible outcomes. This excitement, coupled with a desire to enter the engineering field, led to my interest in Materials Science and Engineering. I began looking for schools with a good reputation for materials. Penn State was definitely high on that list, yet the home aspect still kept it from being at the top.

When asked where I wanted to go for college at age seventeen, I would repeat my mantra of the past two years: “a good school.” For me, the high school college-bound senior, that school could be among the fifteen that I applied to. Yeah, fifteen. And if you asked me for my top three, I really couldn’t give you an answer. Something I heard once that I can relate to? “I used to be indecisive; now I’m not sure.” In the end I guess I never really made a decision; it was sort of made for me. My parents told me about all of the advantages of going here, and… it made sense. It wasn’t about race; it wasn’t about social standing. I don’t even know what it was about because there is no straight answer as to why. There are so many factors, some even that I’m sure I never knew existed. We sent in the enrollment fee, all the while though there was the possibility of changing my mind before graduation and choosing a different school. Graduation came around, and I just kept my enrollment. Now that I’m here, the advantages and the opportunities are so abundant; I feel so grateful I am here. The people here are so nice, and I’ve been able to participate in so much that I would not have otherwise. Even the home aspect I was dreading before has become an advantage. There was no homesickness when I got here because I already felt at home.

So, if you ask me now, at age eighteen, if I’m happy with my decision to go to Penn State, I can confidently admit, “I am ecstatic!”