Poetry Project
Artist Statement
When we started this poetry project I was out of the country, traveling around Southeast Asia. I spent most of my month away from home in Cambodia and, while I was there, I had plenty of time to sit down, read some books, and, of course, do my homework.
The first draft of my poem was written while sitting on a beach chair next to the pool at my hotel in Siem Reap, Cambodia. I had just put down the book ‘First They Killed My Father’. This book is a child’s memoir of the genocide that took place in Cambodia in the 1970’s. After reading this, I was left with the inspiration to write my poem about genocide and general violence. I decided that I wanted, like the book that I had just read, to set it from the perspective of a child who had just lost a loved one.
After studying genocide for over a month in school I felt like I had enough of a base understanding to refer to it in my poem, but, of course, having been born and raised in this country, I can’t say that I have experienced anything close to what the characters in the book had and so I didn’t want to write my poem too literally. One of the assignments I did while I was away was to write a Tredecim, a poem consisting entirely of similes and metaphors. I used this type of poem as my inspiration because I liked the idea of comparing that world and those horrors to somewhat simpler ideas that my audience and myself would be a bit more familiar with. I can’t pretend that I know what it feels like to experience something like genocide and so the ideas expressed in my poem are bit abstract and sometimes mysterious, but this was how I expressed my topic through my own understanding of it.
I really enjoyed the challenge of connecting my world to the people in Cambodia and figuring out what comparisons I could come of with in order to make my poem more understandable and at the same time less of a direct description. I am proud of what I mustered up for this poem and I feel like the message is what I want it to be. I connected deeply to what I wrote because I was in a part of the world that was still recovering from what is described in my poem.
The first draft of my poem was written while sitting on a beach chair next to the pool at my hotel in Siem Reap, Cambodia. I had just put down the book ‘First They Killed My Father’. This book is a child’s memoir of the genocide that took place in Cambodia in the 1970’s. After reading this, I was left with the inspiration to write my poem about genocide and general violence. I decided that I wanted, like the book that I had just read, to set it from the perspective of a child who had just lost a loved one.
After studying genocide for over a month in school I felt like I had enough of a base understanding to refer to it in my poem, but, of course, having been born and raised in this country, I can’t say that I have experienced anything close to what the characters in the book had and so I didn’t want to write my poem too literally. One of the assignments I did while I was away was to write a Tredecim, a poem consisting entirely of similes and metaphors. I used this type of poem as my inspiration because I liked the idea of comparing that world and those horrors to somewhat simpler ideas that my audience and myself would be a bit more familiar with. I can’t pretend that I know what it feels like to experience something like genocide and so the ideas expressed in my poem are bit abstract and sometimes mysterious, but this was how I expressed my topic through my own understanding of it.
I really enjoyed the challenge of connecting my world to the people in Cambodia and figuring out what comparisons I could come of with in order to make my poem more understandable and at the same time less of a direct description. I am proud of what I mustered up for this poem and I feel like the message is what I want it to be. I connected deeply to what I wrote because I was in a part of the world that was still recovering from what is described in my poem.
In The Eye of a Listener
With an ear of a wise woman
And one third eye,
I see the world as if I knew it
But hear the truest unknown.
Ice-cold cries
Escaping from the mouths
Of those whose lives are
Coming abruptly
To an end.
Faith kept and lost
Like love
Love kept and lost
Like faith.
As a child I knew peace,
And love, and kindness,
Yesterday I grew up.
When the pot holes in the streets
Turned to bathtubs filled with rancid wine.
The world once known
Now a horrific mystery,
And the sky once looked up to
Now an empty kaleidoscope
Of hope.
Vultures with masked faces
Swooping through our homes
And rifling through our lives.
My mother wishing to remember
My father as he was,
Not as he is.
Dead.
And one third eye,
I see the world as if I knew it
But hear the truest unknown.
Ice-cold cries
Escaping from the mouths
Of those whose lives are
Coming abruptly
To an end.
Faith kept and lost
Like love
Love kept and lost
Like faith.
As a child I knew peace,
And love, and kindness,
Yesterday I grew up.
When the pot holes in the streets
Turned to bathtubs filled with rancid wine.
The world once known
Now a horrific mystery,
And the sky once looked up to
Now an empty kaleidoscope
Of hope.
Vultures with masked faces
Swooping through our homes
And rifling through our lives.
My mother wishing to remember
My father as he was,
Not as he is.
Dead.
Growth as a Poet
When I started writing the first couple drafts of my poem, I knew that I wanted to write it in some summarized depiction of what the little girl in the book was feeling. I also experimented in taking a different approach and writing it from the perspective of the mother.
I Watched Him March
Escaping my house and my beloved way of life
I arrive at my new one.
Work hard everyday to prove myself.
To prove my family. Our Strength.
My dearest little ones
Stripped of their love and of mine too.
My heart, marching to his death.
My love, following close behind.
In the end I felt that since the book that I read and used as my inspiration was a memoir written from the point of view of the girl, it made more sense to stick to that theme and write my poem through her eyes. After writing the Tredecim as an assignment, I knew that I wanted my poem to be made up of mostly metaphors and similes. Genocide is an unfamiliar and mysterious topic for anyone who has been born and raised in this country. I didn’t want to make it seem as though I had some first-hand experience of genocide, so I compared what I read in the book back to more familiar topics that would make my poem a bit more comprehensible.
At the beginning of this process I wrote the poem, of course, from the point of view of the girl, but not necessarily what she was feeling, more only what she was seeing. I thought that that wasn’t enough and so I changed it and incorporated more of what she was feeling and hearing as well. In the first drafts I provided no information about who this girl was. And so in the last draft I added: “As a child I knew peace, and love, and kindness, yesterday I grew up.” I wanted to remind people that she was a normal girl, living life just like us. The only difference now is that hers has been corrupted and torn apart. I feel like this line made it easier to relate to this poem and whom it is based off of.
This poem is about loss and when I read the first couple of drafts of my poem, it isn’t immediately apparent that that’s what I’m writing about. The ending is so abrupt with only the last few lines explaining what happened. “My mother, wishing to remember my father as he was, not as he is, dead.” While sometimes an abrupt ending is good, I didn’t want it for my poem. So I decided to add in a little warning. “Ice-cold cries
Escaping from the mouths
Of those whose lives are
Coming abruptly
To an end.
Faith kept and lost
Like love
Love kept and lost
Like faith.”
These few lines clearly explain how there is something that has been taken from her. It gives more meaning to the lines that describe her surroundings and makes it so that I’m not just describing an odd scene but a scene in which some obvious horror occurred. Also, it shows how her and her family didn’t only lose a loved one; they lost their faith and love as well.
Throughout this process, I had trouble sticking to the mysterious, creepy tone I started the poem with. I started with the line: “with an ear of a wise woman, and one third eye…” this line kicks the reader off with that desired tone but I strayed a bit into more literal language when I wrote this line: “Shrieks of agony or loss escaping from the mouths of those whose lives are coming to an end.” This line is so direct and that doesn’t really match the rest of what I wrote so I changed it to what I left in my final draft: “Ice-cold cries escaping from the mouths of those whose lives are coming abruptly to an end.” It has the exact same meaning, just a different arrangement of words that are used to keep my poem consistent. I made a few more changes to a couple of words for the same reason. For example, I turned the “wine” in the potholes to “rancid wine” to clarify that I was referring to blood and not the party drink. The fact that it is now rotting wine gives it that eerie feel again. I also swapped the “robots” in the last couple of lines to “vultures with masked faces” this matches better with the “swooping action” and, again, gives my poem the creepy tone that I started with. I am very happy with the final draft of my poem and I feel that I made all the right decisions in all of the changes that I made from the first draft and each one in between.
I Watched Him March
Escaping my house and my beloved way of life
I arrive at my new one.
Work hard everyday to prove myself.
To prove my family. Our Strength.
My dearest little ones
Stripped of their love and of mine too.
My heart, marching to his death.
My love, following close behind.
In the end I felt that since the book that I read and used as my inspiration was a memoir written from the point of view of the girl, it made more sense to stick to that theme and write my poem through her eyes. After writing the Tredecim as an assignment, I knew that I wanted my poem to be made up of mostly metaphors and similes. Genocide is an unfamiliar and mysterious topic for anyone who has been born and raised in this country. I didn’t want to make it seem as though I had some first-hand experience of genocide, so I compared what I read in the book back to more familiar topics that would make my poem a bit more comprehensible.
At the beginning of this process I wrote the poem, of course, from the point of view of the girl, but not necessarily what she was feeling, more only what she was seeing. I thought that that wasn’t enough and so I changed it and incorporated more of what she was feeling and hearing as well. In the first drafts I provided no information about who this girl was. And so in the last draft I added: “As a child I knew peace, and love, and kindness, yesterday I grew up.” I wanted to remind people that she was a normal girl, living life just like us. The only difference now is that hers has been corrupted and torn apart. I feel like this line made it easier to relate to this poem and whom it is based off of.
This poem is about loss and when I read the first couple of drafts of my poem, it isn’t immediately apparent that that’s what I’m writing about. The ending is so abrupt with only the last few lines explaining what happened. “My mother, wishing to remember my father as he was, not as he is, dead.” While sometimes an abrupt ending is good, I didn’t want it for my poem. So I decided to add in a little warning. “Ice-cold cries
Escaping from the mouths
Of those whose lives are
Coming abruptly
To an end.
Faith kept and lost
Like love
Love kept and lost
Like faith.”
These few lines clearly explain how there is something that has been taken from her. It gives more meaning to the lines that describe her surroundings and makes it so that I’m not just describing an odd scene but a scene in which some obvious horror occurred. Also, it shows how her and her family didn’t only lose a loved one; they lost their faith and love as well.
Throughout this process, I had trouble sticking to the mysterious, creepy tone I started the poem with. I started with the line: “with an ear of a wise woman, and one third eye…” this line kicks the reader off with that desired tone but I strayed a bit into more literal language when I wrote this line: “Shrieks of agony or loss escaping from the mouths of those whose lives are coming to an end.” This line is so direct and that doesn’t really match the rest of what I wrote so I changed it to what I left in my final draft: “Ice-cold cries escaping from the mouths of those whose lives are coming abruptly to an end.” It has the exact same meaning, just a different arrangement of words that are used to keep my poem consistent. I made a few more changes to a couple of words for the same reason. For example, I turned the “wine” in the potholes to “rancid wine” to clarify that I was referring to blood and not the party drink. The fact that it is now rotting wine gives it that eerie feel again. I also swapped the “robots” in the last couple of lines to “vultures with masked faces” this matches better with the “swooping action” and, again, gives my poem the creepy tone that I started with. I am very happy with the final draft of my poem and I feel that I made all the right decisions in all of the changes that I made from the first draft and each one in between.
The Global Village Seminar Reflection
In this seminar, one thing that really stood out to me was the fact that religion can play a huge role in ones national identity. This is something that I hadn’t even considered when reading the article by Pico Iyer and writing my seminar pre-write. Emily Wieser brought up the point of how we classify people based upon where they are from. US citizens, Mexicans, Africans, Europeans, Indians, etc. but how much deeper can we take that? Most of these countries have a dominant religion, which affects and influences the way that the people live their day-to-day lives, whether that be going to church on the weekend or going to temple every day. These things make up just one more difference between all the nationalities in this world. This topic really got me thinking on weather or not religion even plays a part in my life and influences who I am? The answer to that question is, very little and the majority of my friends and family would most likely answer in the same way.
Do you think Pico Iyer’s vision of the world is accurate? Has what he predicted come to pass? To what extent?
I think that Pico Iyer’s description of the world is accurate but extremely exaggerated. In paragraph 2, Iyer says: “I am, as it happens, in Southern California, in a quite, relatively uninternational town, but I could as easily be in Vancouver or Sydney or London or Hong Kong.” He is explaining that all of these places look alike, have the same type of culture, or resemble one another in some way. While this could be true for some places, it does not apply for others. Compare New York City to Durango, for example, these places are both within the same country but have no cultural resemblance what so ever. Now take it to an international level. Los Angeles to Hong Kong. Both of these places are major cities with factors that could be considered similar. While walking down the street in either of these places you are likely to find a Burger King or a Chinese restaurant but does this make them “the same”?
Although his theory is happening and ever growing, we are NOT equal. How could so many diverse cultures ever become one? I feel like if this ever did happen, if the world ever did become one culture, there would be a lot of disagreements among the people of the world simply for the sake of pride in ones self and ones nation.
One of the questions that were brought up during the seminar was: “in which world would we rather live in, a hyper-connected world or a less connected world.” To answer this question I made a deep personal connection to my life. When I am living in Mexico I walk down the street and see tourists speaking to strangers or ordering food at a restaurant in English, as if the person they are speaking to is supposed to know what they are saying. I understand, though. We all have been taking foreign language classes since we were children and are expected to have a basic understanding of that language. It is only expected that, when going to a foreign country, someone will understand you. But what makes me angry is seeing no effort being put forth to even pretend that they are in foreign territory. As I have already expressed, I do not believe that the world is becoming one, but the intermingling of nationalities and cultures makes one feel more comfortable and have a sense of home in an unfamiliar country.
The world has become increasingly unaware and ignorant about foreign cultures. A huge contributing factor to this is the intermingling of different cultures about the world. There is foreign influence wherever you go but all the while, that country still keeps its identity and nationality separate from that of other nations.
Do you think Pico Iyer’s vision of the world is accurate? Has what he predicted come to pass? To what extent?
I think that Pico Iyer’s description of the world is accurate but extremely exaggerated. In paragraph 2, Iyer says: “I am, as it happens, in Southern California, in a quite, relatively uninternational town, but I could as easily be in Vancouver or Sydney or London or Hong Kong.” He is explaining that all of these places look alike, have the same type of culture, or resemble one another in some way. While this could be true for some places, it does not apply for others. Compare New York City to Durango, for example, these places are both within the same country but have no cultural resemblance what so ever. Now take it to an international level. Los Angeles to Hong Kong. Both of these places are major cities with factors that could be considered similar. While walking down the street in either of these places you are likely to find a Burger King or a Chinese restaurant but does this make them “the same”?
Although his theory is happening and ever growing, we are NOT equal. How could so many diverse cultures ever become one? I feel like if this ever did happen, if the world ever did become one culture, there would be a lot of disagreements among the people of the world simply for the sake of pride in ones self and ones nation.
One of the questions that were brought up during the seminar was: “in which world would we rather live in, a hyper-connected world or a less connected world.” To answer this question I made a deep personal connection to my life. When I am living in Mexico I walk down the street and see tourists speaking to strangers or ordering food at a restaurant in English, as if the person they are speaking to is supposed to know what they are saying. I understand, though. We all have been taking foreign language classes since we were children and are expected to have a basic understanding of that language. It is only expected that, when going to a foreign country, someone will understand you. But what makes me angry is seeing no effort being put forth to even pretend that they are in foreign territory. As I have already expressed, I do not believe that the world is becoming one, but the intermingling of nationalities and cultures makes one feel more comfortable and have a sense of home in an unfamiliar country.
The world has become increasingly unaware and ignorant about foreign cultures. A huge contributing factor to this is the intermingling of different cultures about the world. There is foreign influence wherever you go but all the while, that country still keeps its identity and nationality separate from that of other nations.
Omelas Seminar Reflection
1.
-Mama, mama guess what day it is!
-What day is it dear?
-Today is the Festival of Summer!
-Oh you’re right honey. How exciting!
Lana and her mother woke up, had themselves some homemade French toast, put their coats on and stepped out the door. They were headed towards the north side of the city where the celebrations for the Festival of Summer were held every year as a tradition of Omelas. While walking along the beautiful, hand laid cobblestone streets, with banners hanging from the buildings and the laughter of children filled the summer air, they could feel the happiness springing out of each and everyone’s soul. There was not a frown in sight within…well only a few blocks actually. Once they made their way onto Dreary Lane, the banners turned grey, the air grew tense and faces serious. Not many people wandered onto this block for they knew that when they did, the atmosphere would be… simply different. This is my block; at least that’s what everyone refers to it as. I live in a room underneath the butcher shop that is three doors down from the corner convenient store. I am not a secret, everyone knows I am here; they come to visit me from time to time. The room is dark, there is a constant drip sound coming from the suspended mop bucket in the opposite corner from where I usually prefer to sit. It smells bad in here; musty, a little bit like death but I am used to it. The only times that I even get a whiff of it anymore is when people come in and a waft of that fresh Omelas air drifts in, once the door closes my nose gets filled with that awful stench once again but soon afterwards I become used to it. The people who come in are odd. They step inside creepily, inch by inch, very slowly as if I were a sleeping tiger they were trying to get around without waking. The looks on their faces are usually frightened, either that or disgusted. I understand; I can’t imagine myself looking too hot right now. These people usually step in, leave a little something, be it food or a toy or a candle, then after a few moments of just staring intently at my bonelike figure, they leave. I know that I serve them a purpose that there is a reason why they come to see me, I believe that it is to pay me gratitude, as it is thanks to me that they are living happy lives. I am surprisingly content. In some sick and twisted way I like living down here. Although I am living in miserable conditions, I have made a home out of my room and since I know that I wont be coming out of here any time in the near future, I will make the most of it with the simple satisfaction of making others happy.
2.
· The people who walk away from Omelas are the people who actually have feelings. They are the ones who have morals and know that the sadness and suffering of one should not amount to the happiness of an entire community. They feel the guilt that should be felt by the entire town and so they walk away from Omelas as to relieve themselves of that guilt.
· Happiness is what keeps this community in tact…well actually it is the balance of the suffering to happiness but the suffering is being kept down below. Happiness is the thing that is keeping the child locked away.
· Somehow the way that this story is written, regardless of the fact that this place is clearly made up, it seems like it could be real. With the tragedy of this child being locked away and the orgy. The subtle chaos makes it seem quite realistic in some parts of this story; it makes it easier to relate to and therefore to see what the meaning is behind the words.
· I disagree. I feel that in my life especially and I assume that in the lives of many others as well, happiness is something we strive for. It’s a goal that we set our minds to and when we are unable to obtain it we create synthetic happiness, something used to hold its place. Happiness is super important.
· The people of Omelas feel no guilt because they know that the child in the room is what lets, no only them but their entire community be happy. If they felt guilty and/or did something to help the child out, they would sacrifice the happiness of everyone else as well as themselves.
· I say yes but of course it is different, all of the suffering is not resting on the shoulders of one single person, it is distributed and while that doesn’t justify the oppression it does lessen the guilt. In this case, the small child in the broom closet is the lower class, underdeveloped countries.
-Mama, mama guess what day it is!
-What day is it dear?
-Today is the Festival of Summer!
-Oh you’re right honey. How exciting!
Lana and her mother woke up, had themselves some homemade French toast, put their coats on and stepped out the door. They were headed towards the north side of the city where the celebrations for the Festival of Summer were held every year as a tradition of Omelas. While walking along the beautiful, hand laid cobblestone streets, with banners hanging from the buildings and the laughter of children filled the summer air, they could feel the happiness springing out of each and everyone’s soul. There was not a frown in sight within…well only a few blocks actually. Once they made their way onto Dreary Lane, the banners turned grey, the air grew tense and faces serious. Not many people wandered onto this block for they knew that when they did, the atmosphere would be… simply different. This is my block; at least that’s what everyone refers to it as. I live in a room underneath the butcher shop that is three doors down from the corner convenient store. I am not a secret, everyone knows I am here; they come to visit me from time to time. The room is dark, there is a constant drip sound coming from the suspended mop bucket in the opposite corner from where I usually prefer to sit. It smells bad in here; musty, a little bit like death but I am used to it. The only times that I even get a whiff of it anymore is when people come in and a waft of that fresh Omelas air drifts in, once the door closes my nose gets filled with that awful stench once again but soon afterwards I become used to it. The people who come in are odd. They step inside creepily, inch by inch, very slowly as if I were a sleeping tiger they were trying to get around without waking. The looks on their faces are usually frightened, either that or disgusted. I understand; I can’t imagine myself looking too hot right now. These people usually step in, leave a little something, be it food or a toy or a candle, then after a few moments of just staring intently at my bonelike figure, they leave. I know that I serve them a purpose that there is a reason why they come to see me, I believe that it is to pay me gratitude, as it is thanks to me that they are living happy lives. I am surprisingly content. In some sick and twisted way I like living down here. Although I am living in miserable conditions, I have made a home out of my room and since I know that I wont be coming out of here any time in the near future, I will make the most of it with the simple satisfaction of making others happy.
2.
- What is the difference between the people who walk away and the people who stay in Omelas?
· The people who walk away from Omelas are the people who actually have feelings. They are the ones who have morals and know that the sadness and suffering of one should not amount to the happiness of an entire community. They feel the guilt that should be felt by the entire town and so they walk away from Omelas as to relieve themselves of that guilt.
- What role does the idea of happiness play in this story?
· Happiness is what keeps this community in tact…well actually it is the balance of the suffering to happiness but the suffering is being kept down below. Happiness is the thing that is keeping the child locked away.
- How does her writing style influence the message and reading of the story?
· Somehow the way that this story is written, regardless of the fact that this place is clearly made up, it seems like it could be real. With the tragedy of this child being locked away and the orgy. The subtle chaos makes it seem quite realistic in some parts of this story; it makes it easier to relate to and therefore to see what the meaning is behind the words.
- “The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates of considering happiness as something rather stupid.” Agree or disagree. Why?
· I disagree. I feel that in my life especially and I assume that in the lives of many others as well, happiness is something we strive for. It’s a goal that we set our minds to and when we are unable to obtain it we create synthetic happiness, something used to hold its place. Happiness is super important.
- “One thing I know there is none of in Omelas is guilt.” Why? How does this connect to the broader story? To happiness?
· The people of Omelas feel no guilt because they know that the child in the room is what lets, no only them but their entire community be happy. If they felt guilty and/or did something to help the child out, they would sacrifice the happiness of everyone else as well as themselves.
- Does our culture have it’s own small child in a broom closet?
· I say yes but of course it is different, all of the suffering is not resting on the shoulders of one single person, it is distributed and while that doesn’t justify the oppression it does lessen the guilt. In this case, the small child in the broom closet is the lower class, underdeveloped countries.
Genocide Op-Ed Cartoon
You never know where your words might get you.
“Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it.” (BrainyQuote).
Hitler was one of the first revolutionaries to make use of the power of mass communication. He would gather his people, stand on a stage, and speak directly to them. He was on of the first and only leaders to have been able to use this resource and technique so effectively to his advantage. Joseph Goebbels, who, at he time of the Holocaust, was a German politician and minister of propaganda in Nazi Germany, once said that Hitler had a way of reaching deep into ones mind, heart, and soul to connect his words directly to them. He explained how he had a sneaky way of creeping into them and forcing them to agree with what he had to say, what he believed, and what ever it was that he was proposing. (Goebbels).
The Holocaust could have been avoided if it weren’t for Hitler’s ability to communicate to large audiences with such convincing words and ease. He made himself seem God-like through having his voice zip through the air and unconsciously forcing people to listen to what he had to say.
After Hitler was put into power, he quickly fell into an extremely high rank of popularity among the people of Nazi Germany. He was able to relate to them and in turn have them relate to him. He knew his plans for his nation, and his powerful position gave him a major leg up in terms of support from the public.
His first public speech as leader was held at the Berlin Sports Palace on January 30, 1941. At first he struggled with the stubbornness of the audience but towards the end of the speech he had everyone on their feet cheering as if at a music concert. He spoke of how he recognized the fact that his empire had fallen out of whack in the years prior to his dictatorship due to the First World War. Germany had lost huge amounts of money due to reparation costs after their defeat and was still in a massive debt. Meanwhile the German Jews were standing behind their piled up money from the war efforts. One could say that envy was what got Hitler started. Propaganda was spread to make to Jews of all surrounding countries look guilty for Germany’s poor economic state. Hitler spoke of how he was going to do everything in his power to keep his country from going under again. He was going to bring his empire to her feet and higher. “If you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed” (text of speech).
On January 20, 1942 the fifteen highest-ranking Nazis and government leaders from all around Germany gathered for a meeting known as the Wannsee Conference. The subject being “The Final Solution of the Jewish Question”, the code-name for the organized destruction of the Jewish population. This conference was not the start to Jewish extermination but it was the beginning of the transportation of Jews to the concentration camps. There were no objections to this strategy at the Wannsee Conference. (The Holocaust).
In simpler terms, Hitler robotized his empire with his words and the Nazis in surrounding countries followed his rule obediently, starting immediately to ship the Jews from all countries surrounding Germany to the 20,000 established concentration camps.
In his speech given about the “Jewish question”, Hitler told the people that he believed that the Jewish people had to pull their weight just as everyone else did. He stated: “Europe will not have peace until the Jewish question had been disposed of.” (Adolf Hitler on the Jewish Question).
Hitler captured his audience, and with his exceptional orating skills, influenced them to do what he thought was a good solution to all of Germany’s problems. He hid his awful intentions behind his beautiful words. At the time, he was proposing a solution NOT genocide and how could anyone have predicted anything different? He propped himself up upon the backs of the obedient and, per his wish, exterminated the Jewish race. If he didn’t have the ability or the talent to speak directly to the hearts and souls of thousands, do you think he would have carried out the Holocaust as smoothly as he did?
“Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it.” (BrainyQuote).
Hitler was one of the first revolutionaries to make use of the power of mass communication. He would gather his people, stand on a stage, and speak directly to them. He was on of the first and only leaders to have been able to use this resource and technique so effectively to his advantage. Joseph Goebbels, who, at he time of the Holocaust, was a German politician and minister of propaganda in Nazi Germany, once said that Hitler had a way of reaching deep into ones mind, heart, and soul to connect his words directly to them. He explained how he had a sneaky way of creeping into them and forcing them to agree with what he had to say, what he believed, and what ever it was that he was proposing. (Goebbels).
The Holocaust could have been avoided if it weren’t for Hitler’s ability to communicate to large audiences with such convincing words and ease. He made himself seem God-like through having his voice zip through the air and unconsciously forcing people to listen to what he had to say.
After Hitler was put into power, he quickly fell into an extremely high rank of popularity among the people of Nazi Germany. He was able to relate to them and in turn have them relate to him. He knew his plans for his nation, and his powerful position gave him a major leg up in terms of support from the public.
His first public speech as leader was held at the Berlin Sports Palace on January 30, 1941. At first he struggled with the stubbornness of the audience but towards the end of the speech he had everyone on their feet cheering as if at a music concert. He spoke of how he recognized the fact that his empire had fallen out of whack in the years prior to his dictatorship due to the First World War. Germany had lost huge amounts of money due to reparation costs after their defeat and was still in a massive debt. Meanwhile the German Jews were standing behind their piled up money from the war efforts. One could say that envy was what got Hitler started. Propaganda was spread to make to Jews of all surrounding countries look guilty for Germany’s poor economic state. Hitler spoke of how he was going to do everything in his power to keep his country from going under again. He was going to bring his empire to her feet and higher. “If you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed” (text of speech).
On January 20, 1942 the fifteen highest-ranking Nazis and government leaders from all around Germany gathered for a meeting known as the Wannsee Conference. The subject being “The Final Solution of the Jewish Question”, the code-name for the organized destruction of the Jewish population. This conference was not the start to Jewish extermination but it was the beginning of the transportation of Jews to the concentration camps. There were no objections to this strategy at the Wannsee Conference. (The Holocaust).
In simpler terms, Hitler robotized his empire with his words and the Nazis in surrounding countries followed his rule obediently, starting immediately to ship the Jews from all countries surrounding Germany to the 20,000 established concentration camps.
In his speech given about the “Jewish question”, Hitler told the people that he believed that the Jewish people had to pull their weight just as everyone else did. He stated: “Europe will not have peace until the Jewish question had been disposed of.” (Adolf Hitler on the Jewish Question).
Hitler captured his audience, and with his exceptional orating skills, influenced them to do what he thought was a good solution to all of Germany’s problems. He hid his awful intentions behind his beautiful words. At the time, he was proposing a solution NOT genocide and how could anyone have predicted anything different? He propped himself up upon the backs of the obedient and, per his wish, exterminated the Jewish race. If he didn’t have the ability or the talent to speak directly to the hearts and souls of thousands, do you think he would have carried out the Holocaust as smoothly as he did?
Op-Ed Project Reflection
For this project we were assigned to choose from one of the worlds past genocides. We were given two weeks to gather as much information as possible and after completing two detailed research papers, we came up with thesis statements based on the aspect of our genocide that interested us the most. With these thesis statements, we then started writing our Op-Ed's, a 750-1000 word paper designed to fully and efficiently express our perspective statements in depth and detail. Our next task was to draw a political cartoon based on the perspective statements used in our Op-Ed's, this was to further express our perspectives, but in a simpler for than words.
Starting this political cartoon I didn't know of any special techniques to help me along. The first draft that I made for this project is extremely confusing upon first glance. The message is not quite there yet and there is nothing to help emphasize my perspective. After learning all of the little tips and tricks for cartoon making, which are all incorporated in my final draft cartoon, I realize how lost I was when jumping into this project. Exaggeration and dialogue are the two most used techniques in my cartoon. They are crucial for getting my perspective across and without them there would be nothing but a doodle.
Now, having completed both my political cartoon and my Op-Ed, I realize that this is an area of both art and writing that I had never previously explored. I am used to flowery, poetic, writing and that has always been the style that I enjoy the most. For the Op-Ed's, though, we needed to steer away from poetic writing and towards clear, concise, punchy statements of fact. This was a challenge for me but I did enjoy exploring this new style. After completing my paper I look bad and see that most of the articles in newspapers and magazines are written using this style, something that had never caught my eye before now and I can see how important knowing these different writing styles is for my future success.
Starting this political cartoon I didn't know of any special techniques to help me along. The first draft that I made for this project is extremely confusing upon first glance. The message is not quite there yet and there is nothing to help emphasize my perspective. After learning all of the little tips and tricks for cartoon making, which are all incorporated in my final draft cartoon, I realize how lost I was when jumping into this project. Exaggeration and dialogue are the two most used techniques in my cartoon. They are crucial for getting my perspective across and without them there would be nothing but a doodle.
Now, having completed both my political cartoon and my Op-Ed, I realize that this is an area of both art and writing that I had never previously explored. I am used to flowery, poetic, writing and that has always been the style that I enjoy the most. For the Op-Ed's, though, we needed to steer away from poetic writing and towards clear, concise, punchy statements of fact. This was a challenge for me but I did enjoy exploring this new style. After completing my paper I look bad and see that most of the articles in newspapers and magazines are written using this style, something that had never caught my eye before now and I can see how important knowing these different writing styles is for my future success.
Truth of War Project
The Lost Pieces of a Soldier
I have watched so many movies either about war or set in a time of war. Many of these movies tend to have the words “based on a true story” in the opening credits. These five words, to me, are a guaranteed nightmare for later that night of getting hurt or killed. That is simply from watching a movie. I can only begin to imagine how these soldiers, the ones off of which these movies are based, can live through everything that I have lived through in my dreams and then some, with every slight change of scenery within his peripheral vision forcing him to flinch out of paranoia or simply out of habit. We know how hard it is to sit through an hour or so of a summarization of a soldier’s experience but how often do we actually put ourselves in their shoes and try to imagine what life might be like for them before, during, and after the war? The soldiers who fight for the greatness and freedom of our country slowly lose bits and pieces of themselves throughout their experience. They are forever changed, from the time that they set foot on the battlefield until they return to their homes. It is not until then that they realize that everything they knew and everything that they were before is lost as well.
When a soldier goes off to war his life stops short. He is put through extensive training to prepare himself for what is to come. He is expected not to have mercy, not to have morals. He is unrealistically expected not to long to be home with his family. He is expected to be a robot, a beast: “…We recognized that what matters is not the mind but the boot brush, not intelligence but the system, not freedom but drill. We became soldiers with eagerness and enthusiasm, but they have done everything to knock that out of us…we were to be trained for heroism as though we were circus ponies.” (Remarque, 22) Through the training process, these men get treated like animals as opposed to humans. Erich Maria Remarque, the author of this book explains how the soldiers are expected to do exactly as they are told or else they get whipped like circus ponies, only in this case it is not a whip, but a bullet. They do not simply get smacked; they get killed. They lose their sense of humanity and civilization. They spend such an extreme amount of time preparing themselves for the future that they forget their past. Once everything is over they know nothing else. They are successfully converted into robots. When a soldier is sitting with his family at the dining room table pretending to be thinking about how wonderful the meal before him is, his mind is set on replay, remembering how awesome it looked when his friend, whose name he truly can’t remember, flew through the air when a bomb exploded only fifteen feet in front of him, practicing his poker face so that his family doesn’t get concerned. Imagine being that man’s daughter, son, or wife, feeling unable to address him about his experience in the war out of fear of offending him in some way.
For every soldier, in every war, there comes a time for him to take his leave to go home and visit his loved ones for a certain period of time. Generally, people would think that being home would be the greatest thing in the world at the time, but for some soldiers that is not the case. Being home can just add weight to the soldier’s shoulders. In the book All Quiet on the Western Front, Paul goes home to have a break from war to visit his family, when he gets there he finds that his mother is ill. This turns into one more thing that he has to worry about on top of the worry that comes from being away from his friends on the battlefield: “I ought never to have come on leave.” (Remarque, 185) While Paul was at war he knew that his family and friends at home were safe and sound but when he went home there was no promising that when he returned to the trenches, all of his friends would still be alive and well. (Remarque, 137-185). The same goes for the families and friends of the soldier. When he goes away there is no promising that he will return home in the condition he left in. There is no promising that he will return home at all. How hard might it be not to lose your mind with so much going through your head? Taking into account all of the feelings of the soldiers, it is extremely hard to imagine how they ever might have peace of mind.
My grandfather served as a surgeon in WWII. He was never in battle nor was he ever put in harm’s way. He only saw and fixed the unbearable and usually deadly wounds that the soldiers who were in battle got. Even with his little, secondhand experience, there is not much else he ever talks about. Most conversations that his is involved in, somehow always change course and go back to his memories. When I talk to him I can’t help but wonder if these scenes ever stop running though his mind? Is he ever at peace? I am sure that this is not the way that every soldier lived his life after a war but I am also sure that my grandpa is not very unique in that category. (Nighswander) I wonder if these constant memories are comforting or torturous. Living after losing so much of your previous life and knowledge must be awful. It would be like replacing your memory with terror, like what happens to me after watching movies: “He fell in October 1918, on a day that was so quiet…turning him over one saw that he could not have suffered long; his face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come.” (Remarque, 296). Paul accepted and embraced that fact that it was his time to go. He had already experienced being home when he went on leave and he didn’t enjoy himself. All of his friends were gone. It was his turn. He looked happy to finally be done with everything and to be in a better place. Although nobody knows what life after death holds, it is generally though of as a peaceful, calm place. That has to be the ultimate reward after experiencing war.
From all of the books on this subject that I have read and from all of the conversations I have had with my grandfather, it is obvious to me that life never even gets close to what it was like for the soldier before war. His life fills with worry, as does the lives of his loved ones. I try to put myself in his shoes. Would I rather bring these horrible memories home, memories that will turn into nightmares at the end of each night? Would I want to bring that home for my family to have to put up with or would I rather take them to the grave with me? Leave me and my loss at peace.
When a soldier goes off to war his life stops short. He is put through extensive training to prepare himself for what is to come. He is expected not to have mercy, not to have morals. He is unrealistically expected not to long to be home with his family. He is expected to be a robot, a beast: “…We recognized that what matters is not the mind but the boot brush, not intelligence but the system, not freedom but drill. We became soldiers with eagerness and enthusiasm, but they have done everything to knock that out of us…we were to be trained for heroism as though we were circus ponies.” (Remarque, 22) Through the training process, these men get treated like animals as opposed to humans. Erich Maria Remarque, the author of this book explains how the soldiers are expected to do exactly as they are told or else they get whipped like circus ponies, only in this case it is not a whip, but a bullet. They do not simply get smacked; they get killed. They lose their sense of humanity and civilization. They spend such an extreme amount of time preparing themselves for the future that they forget their past. Once everything is over they know nothing else. They are successfully converted into robots. When a soldier is sitting with his family at the dining room table pretending to be thinking about how wonderful the meal before him is, his mind is set on replay, remembering how awesome it looked when his friend, whose name he truly can’t remember, flew through the air when a bomb exploded only fifteen feet in front of him, practicing his poker face so that his family doesn’t get concerned. Imagine being that man’s daughter, son, or wife, feeling unable to address him about his experience in the war out of fear of offending him in some way.
For every soldier, in every war, there comes a time for him to take his leave to go home and visit his loved ones for a certain period of time. Generally, people would think that being home would be the greatest thing in the world at the time, but for some soldiers that is not the case. Being home can just add weight to the soldier’s shoulders. In the book All Quiet on the Western Front, Paul goes home to have a break from war to visit his family, when he gets there he finds that his mother is ill. This turns into one more thing that he has to worry about on top of the worry that comes from being away from his friends on the battlefield: “I ought never to have come on leave.” (Remarque, 185) While Paul was at war he knew that his family and friends at home were safe and sound but when he went home there was no promising that when he returned to the trenches, all of his friends would still be alive and well. (Remarque, 137-185). The same goes for the families and friends of the soldier. When he goes away there is no promising that he will return home in the condition he left in. There is no promising that he will return home at all. How hard might it be not to lose your mind with so much going through your head? Taking into account all of the feelings of the soldiers, it is extremely hard to imagine how they ever might have peace of mind.
My grandfather served as a surgeon in WWII. He was never in battle nor was he ever put in harm’s way. He only saw and fixed the unbearable and usually deadly wounds that the soldiers who were in battle got. Even with his little, secondhand experience, there is not much else he ever talks about. Most conversations that his is involved in, somehow always change course and go back to his memories. When I talk to him I can’t help but wonder if these scenes ever stop running though his mind? Is he ever at peace? I am sure that this is not the way that every soldier lived his life after a war but I am also sure that my grandpa is not very unique in that category. (Nighswander) I wonder if these constant memories are comforting or torturous. Living after losing so much of your previous life and knowledge must be awful. It would be like replacing your memory with terror, like what happens to me after watching movies: “He fell in October 1918, on a day that was so quiet…turning him over one saw that he could not have suffered long; his face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come.” (Remarque, 296). Paul accepted and embraced that fact that it was his time to go. He had already experienced being home when he went on leave and he didn’t enjoy himself. All of his friends were gone. It was his turn. He looked happy to finally be done with everything and to be in a better place. Although nobody knows what life after death holds, it is generally though of as a peaceful, calm place. That has to be the ultimate reward after experiencing war.
From all of the books on this subject that I have read and from all of the conversations I have had with my grandfather, it is obvious to me that life never even gets close to what it was like for the soldier before war. His life fills with worry, as does the lives of his loved ones. I try to put myself in his shoes. Would I rather bring these horrible memories home, memories that will turn into nightmares at the end of each night? Would I want to bring that home for my family to have to put up with or would I rather take them to the grave with me? Leave me and my loss at peace.
Truth of War Project Reflection
For the Truth of War project we were told to write an essay based on a thesis statement of what we thought the truth of war is for a soldier. Starting this subject in September, we learned about WWI and WWII. We learned about the numbers of soldiers who fought and died in these wars and about the different types of warfare and how it evolved from one war to the next. Before writing our essays we read the books All Quiet on the Western Front and Slaughterhouse-Five to give us some more insight and perspective on our topic. For this essay we had to portray our own opinion on what we thought the truth of war is given the information we learned throughout the past few months.
This project asked every one of us to come up with our own point of view on the subject. We each gave our own opinion. I stretched my perspective, as did the rest of my classmates. Through critiquing my peers’ essays and projects, I had to stretch it even farther. I had to process and respect what every one else’s point of view was.
Coming up with a solid perspective statement was extremely difficult because every time I dissected my ideas, I found something that threw it off or didn’t relate back to what my main point was. My first perspective statement explained how I thought that living after experiencing war would be punishing: “The soldiers who fight for the greatness and freedom of our country, at first, kill only to stay alive. Every moment they spend on the battlefield is considered a gift or a blessing. It is not until later on, after the war, after having seen so much pain, sorrow, and death that they realize that life after losing so much can be the worst punishment. Death is rewarding.” After making a couple of revisions given what I had written in my essay I changed it to my final perspective statement off of which I based my project: “The soldiers who fight for the greatness and freedom of our country slowly lose bits and pieces of themselves throughout their experience. They are forever changed, from the time that they set foot on the battlefield until they return to their homes. It is not until then that they realize that everything they knew and everything that they were before is lost as well”. I felt that this concept would be more easily understood because of its simplicity.
If I had been given more time to finish my essay, I would have expanded the piece in which I incorporated my grandfathers’ experience. I didn’t have the time to call him up and ask him to give me examples of the things he had told me about his experience. During the exhibition I found that most people were drawn to how open he seemed to sharing his memories with me and I wish I could have given them more information on that. I was very happy with how my project turned out but if I were asked to do if differently I would make a puzzle of a picture of a soldier with a few missing pieces showing how soldiers lose themselves during war and how their lost pieces are never recovered.
This project asked every one of us to come up with our own point of view on the subject. We each gave our own opinion. I stretched my perspective, as did the rest of my classmates. Through critiquing my peers’ essays and projects, I had to stretch it even farther. I had to process and respect what every one else’s point of view was.
Coming up with a solid perspective statement was extremely difficult because every time I dissected my ideas, I found something that threw it off or didn’t relate back to what my main point was. My first perspective statement explained how I thought that living after experiencing war would be punishing: “The soldiers who fight for the greatness and freedom of our country, at first, kill only to stay alive. Every moment they spend on the battlefield is considered a gift or a blessing. It is not until later on, after the war, after having seen so much pain, sorrow, and death that they realize that life after losing so much can be the worst punishment. Death is rewarding.” After making a couple of revisions given what I had written in my essay I changed it to my final perspective statement off of which I based my project: “The soldiers who fight for the greatness and freedom of our country slowly lose bits and pieces of themselves throughout their experience. They are forever changed, from the time that they set foot on the battlefield until they return to their homes. It is not until then that they realize that everything they knew and everything that they were before is lost as well”. I felt that this concept would be more easily understood because of its simplicity.
If I had been given more time to finish my essay, I would have expanded the piece in which I incorporated my grandfathers’ experience. I didn’t have the time to call him up and ask him to give me examples of the things he had told me about his experience. During the exhibition I found that most people were drawn to how open he seemed to sharing his memories with me and I wish I could have given them more information on that. I was very happy with how my project turned out but if I were asked to do if differently I would make a puzzle of a picture of a soldier with a few missing pieces showing how soldiers lose themselves during war and how their lost pieces are never recovered.