Today in one of my media classes, I learned that though the media doesn’t control how I think, it can control what I think about. For instance, the hot story this week was about pictures of 15 year-old pop star Miley Cyrus, posing backless for a Vanity Fair photo shoot. I couldn’t turn on a T.V., listen to a radio station or open a web browser without being asked if I thought the pictures “were too racy?” And while I didn’t want to give it any more thought, I realized that I had to. I had to be aware of what the media was doing, why it was pushing this story at me and why I subconsciously accepted it as news and then moved along. It is because I look to the media to tell me what’s important. And if this was the story I needed to know, I’d be damned if I didn’t gather me some water-cooler worthy facts.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Extra Credit of Copy Edit the World
Where: On a package of Mexican candy.
What: "So good to!"
Correction: "So good too!"
___________________
Where: On a beverage menu at Vietnamese restuarant, "Cau Mau."
What: Ice coffee with condense milk.
Correction: Iced coffee with condensed milk.
What: "So good to!"
Correction: "So good too!"
___________________
Where: On a beverage menu at Vietnamese restuarant, "Cau Mau."
What: Ice coffee with condense milk.
Correction: Iced coffee with condensed milk.
Japanese Vignette Essay
Word Count: 555
Standing in front of the American Japanese Internment Memorial, I felt myself taking a sharp breath. The memorial was much larger and detailed then I thought it would be. Pictures, not words, took over the majority of the memorial. Vignettes showing the capturing and transportation of Japanese Americans and the life they lived in the internment camps, all still echoed that sad past. I was surprised at how emotional I felt. My education thus far had only briefed through this subject, and so images on the memorial were still teaching me things I didn’t know. As I gazed at the memorial, three vignettes in particular compelled me.
The first vignette shows a man being led away from his crops by the FBI. Behind him, other farmers are still working hard at the crops, keeping their head bowed, as if trying to avoid the scene. Though the farmer seems poor, he still looks as though he would rather be working at the fields, then be taken away by the men. I was drawn to this scene because it reminded me of my parents’ past during the Vietnam War. They too were innocent people going about their lives, only to have it taken away without any logical reasoning provided. While one of FBI men look almost gleeful to be showing his police badge, the other looks on stone-faced. I don’t know whether, like the farmer, he is confused about what is happening, or if he’s just numb to the whole scenario. I think this scene is a representation of the Executive Order 9066 passed by then President Roosevelt, which allowed military commanders to designate “exclusion zones.” These zones subsequently led to excluding thousands of Japanese Americans from areas such as California, Washington and Oregon.
In the second vignette, a family is seen burning their belongings. A little girl is seen clinging to a man’s back, trying to stop him from burning her toy. Heirlooms such as swords and masks are regrettably being laid upon the fire. Next to them is a sign that reads “Evacuation Sale,” as if the loss they had witnessed was not enough. Now they must sell whatever is left of their belongings as quickly as they can before they enter the internment camps. The scene shows how Japanese families had burned their personal belongings in order to look as if they had no personal alliances with Japan. To the military, anything to do with Japan was considered incriminating evidence.
Finally, the third vignette struck me with scenes of children playing sports and boy scouts raising the American flag. Playing soccer and baseball seemed to save the children from having to always focus on what was happening around them. Despite the deprived settings, the Japanese American tried to create what normality they could. Schools were set up for children and churches were set up for families. A looming watch guard stands on the water tower, making sure nobody escapes the camp.
With this great tragedy in the past, it would be easy for people to believe it will never happen again. However, many people do not even understand the extent of how much suffering occurred. The memorial stands not only to honor the deceased, but also to continue the conversation on how misguided our government was and how we can never risk that again.
Standing in front of the American Japanese Internment Memorial, I felt myself taking a sharp breath. The memorial was much larger and detailed then I thought it would be. Pictures, not words, took over the majority of the memorial. Vignettes showing the capturing and transportation of Japanese Americans and the life they lived in the internment camps, all still echoed that sad past. I was surprised at how emotional I felt. My education thus far had only briefed through this subject, and so images on the memorial were still teaching me things I didn’t know. As I gazed at the memorial, three vignettes in particular compelled me.
The first vignette shows a man being led away from his crops by the FBI. Behind him, other farmers are still working hard at the crops, keeping their head bowed, as if trying to avoid the scene. Though the farmer seems poor, he still looks as though he would rather be working at the fields, then be taken away by the men. I was drawn to this scene because it reminded me of my parents’ past during the Vietnam War. They too were innocent people going about their lives, only to have it taken away without any logical reasoning provided. While one of FBI men look almost gleeful to be showing his police badge, the other looks on stone-faced. I don’t know whether, like the farmer, he is confused about what is happening, or if he’s just numb to the whole scenario. I think this scene is a representation of the Executive Order 9066 passed by then President Roosevelt, which allowed military commanders to designate “exclusion zones.” These zones subsequently led to excluding thousands of Japanese Americans from areas such as California, Washington and Oregon.
In the second vignette, a family is seen burning their belongings. A little girl is seen clinging to a man’s back, trying to stop him from burning her toy. Heirlooms such as swords and masks are regrettably being laid upon the fire. Next to them is a sign that reads “Evacuation Sale,” as if the loss they had witnessed was not enough. Now they must sell whatever is left of their belongings as quickly as they can before they enter the internment camps. The scene shows how Japanese families had burned their personal belongings in order to look as if they had no personal alliances with Japan. To the military, anything to do with Japan was considered incriminating evidence.
Finally, the third vignette struck me with scenes of children playing sports and boy scouts raising the American flag. Playing soccer and baseball seemed to save the children from having to always focus on what was happening around them. Despite the deprived settings, the Japanese American tried to create what normality they could. Schools were set up for children and churches were set up for families. A looming watch guard stands on the water tower, making sure nobody escapes the camp.
With this great tragedy in the past, it would be easy for people to believe it will never happen again. However, many people do not even understand the extent of how much suffering occurred. The memorial stands not only to honor the deceased, but also to continue the conversation on how misguided our government was and how we can never risk that again.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
I'll have one coffee and a slice of life
Amidst the whirring and clattering of the espresso machine, two girlfriends are trying to hold a conversation. They are sitting in a small coffee shop, with walls decorated by local artists. Odd creatures resembling part hippo, part bear are painted in deep, primary colors and are splashed randomly throughout the café. Soft hip-hop fills in whatever silence the espresso machine allows. The smell of roasting coffee beans and heated soy milk wafts through the air, creating an intoxicating aroma for patrons.
The two girls are sitting atop high stools, swiveling in half circles as they sip their hot drinks.
“I needed this so badly. I only got four hours of sleep,” the girl with the shorter hair says. Her friend nods in sympathy. Both wearing SJSU sweatshirts, the girls look like regular college students mulling over the lulls and stress of school.
Across the room from them, a couple is sitting on a plush, velvet sofa, each nibbling on muffins. He has sandy colored curls that seemed to have been brushed up by the wind. They are friends with the barista, who leans over the counter to talk with them. There are no other customers waiting in line, so each party is able to carry on their conversations without the interruption of an opening door.
As the girls gather up their purses and books, a lone customer walks in.
"The usual?" asks the barista. The man nods and takes out his wallet. He sees the open stools and takes a seat to wait for his coffee. And the whirling and clattering begins again.
The two girls are sitting atop high stools, swiveling in half circles as they sip their hot drinks.
“I needed this so badly. I only got four hours of sleep,” the girl with the shorter hair says. Her friend nods in sympathy. Both wearing SJSU sweatshirts, the girls look like regular college students mulling over the lulls and stress of school.
Across the room from them, a couple is sitting on a plush, velvet sofa, each nibbling on muffins. He has sandy colored curls that seemed to have been brushed up by the wind. They are friends with the barista, who leans over the counter to talk with them. There are no other customers waiting in line, so each party is able to carry on their conversations without the interruption of an opening door.
As the girls gather up their purses and books, a lone customer walks in.
"The usual?" asks the barista. The man nods and takes out his wallet. He sees the open stools and takes a seat to wait for his coffee. And the whirling and clattering begins again.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Individual Blog #3
In honor of "Earth Day," this post will not only be typed in green font, it will also be about "going green." To those that are rolling their eyes, muttering "here we go again," under their breath, I say this: You go green, you SAVE green. Under the guise of an environmentalist, I gleefully yank out wires from outlets, bundle myself up in layers and hop on the nearest light rail. The truth is, I do it for the cheddar. The paper. The eagle-eyed witch rock. The cash, money. So what if our climate temperature has dramatically increased: Gas is freaking’ four dollars!
I’m kidding. Kind of. While I do admit to hugging one or two trees in my lifetime, I’m more concerned about how my family can deal with the increasing price of, well…just about everything. No longer do we take five minute drives to our local grocery. Gone are the days of muting the television while we’re surfing the net. And now that there are recycling bins next to our trash cans, there’s no reason not to separate our trash. Like my mother tells me, "just because we can't do everything right, doesn't mean we shouldn't do anything right." So be it lover of money or trees (which are essentially the same thing anyway) let's be more conscious to save a little bit of both.
I’m kidding. Kind of. While I do admit to hugging one or two trees in my lifetime, I’m more concerned about how my family can deal with the increasing price of, well…just about everything. No longer do we take five minute drives to our local grocery. Gone are the days of muting the television while we’re surfing the net. And now that there are recycling bins next to our trash cans, there’s no reason not to separate our trash. Like my mother tells me, "just because we can't do everything right, doesn't mean we shouldn't do anything right." So be it lover of money or trees (which are essentially the same thing anyway) let's be more conscious to save a little bit of both.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Journal #5: Fish out of water
The event I attended was a student panel and tour for Chicano students, hosted by the Chicano Commencement Committee. I brought along my friend, who was Chinese, as to not feel completely alone. The event was held in the Constanoan Room in the Student Union on Friday morning. As I entered the room, I saw about 50 students already occupying the audience section and five more students were seated behind a long desk, facing the crowd. From what I could see, almost everybody was Chicano, save my friend and I.
The audience was made up of transferring students from San Jose City College and the event was mainly about answering their questions on how the transition will be and what they could expect at their first year at a university. I felt out of place, not just because of my ethnicity, but also because I was older than the crowd and the purpose of this event was not really meant for me. I mainly tried to blend in the crowd by being really quiet and not asking any questions. I did notice a couple of quizzical looks, but they were quickly forgotten once the student panel started.
Chicano students made up the panel and at many points during the questioning, they spoke in Spanish. There were a couple of times when the panel would say something in Spanish and the crowd would laugh. My friend and I would just smile during these parts and shrug our shoulders at each other. The audience mainly asked questions about tuition for SJSU, how the dorm life was and how the social scene was. Even though there no moments where it was made obvious there were two Asian girls in the crowd, I still felt kind of silly being there. However, it was mainly because I wasn't a transfer student and I didn't go to San Jose City College. But I think people just saw that I was not Chicano, but was there anyway and that that was the weird part.
After the student panel, we all got outside and waited for our tour guide. As we were going around the campus, the tour guide would also say parts of the tour in Spanish. That didn’t bother me because I already knew the campus, but it did bother me that the tour guide wasn’t aware of the two Asian girls in the crowd. When the tour was finished, the SJCC crowd gathered around their supervisors and went on their way. My friend and I left for the Student Union and talked about the experience. I didn’t feel as out of place as I thought I would have, despite the fact that the event was for Chicano students by Chicano students. Still, it definitely wasn’t the most comfortable atmosphere for me and I feel I kind of overcompensated for not being Chicano by acting super polite to everybody around me.
Overall, the crowd was pretty chill and it was an informative two hours for me.
The audience was made up of transferring students from San Jose City College and the event was mainly about answering their questions on how the transition will be and what they could expect at their first year at a university. I felt out of place, not just because of my ethnicity, but also because I was older than the crowd and the purpose of this event was not really meant for me. I mainly tried to blend in the crowd by being really quiet and not asking any questions. I did notice a couple of quizzical looks, but they were quickly forgotten once the student panel started.
Chicano students made up the panel and at many points during the questioning, they spoke in Spanish. There were a couple of times when the panel would say something in Spanish and the crowd would laugh. My friend and I would just smile during these parts and shrug our shoulders at each other. The audience mainly asked questions about tuition for SJSU, how the dorm life was and how the social scene was. Even though there no moments where it was made obvious there were two Asian girls in the crowd, I still felt kind of silly being there. However, it was mainly because I wasn't a transfer student and I didn't go to San Jose City College. But I think people just saw that I was not Chicano, but was there anyway and that that was the weird part.
After the student panel, we all got outside and waited for our tour guide. As we were going around the campus, the tour guide would also say parts of the tour in Spanish. That didn’t bother me because I already knew the campus, but it did bother me that the tour guide wasn’t aware of the two Asian girls in the crowd. When the tour was finished, the SJCC crowd gathered around their supervisors and went on their way. My friend and I left for the Student Union and talked about the experience. I didn’t feel as out of place as I thought I would have, despite the fact that the event was for Chicano students by Chicano students. Still, it definitely wasn’t the most comfortable atmosphere for me and I feel I kind of overcompensated for not being Chicano by acting super polite to everybody around me.
Overall, the crowd was pretty chill and it was an informative two hours for me.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Individual Blog Post #2: More Depressing News
Word Count: 287
I just know what the crowd wants, don’t I? So I was watching “Bill Moyers' Journal” on PBS last Friday night (I got totally wasted after, don’t worry) and featured was a story on farming subsidies. It was basically about how we still have a lot of poverty and hunger in America, yet millions of our tax money goes towards these “unnecessary” farmer subsidies. The government awards certain farms subsidies depending on how much land the farm owns and how well the market is doing. If farms cannot sell enough crops at their estimated value, the government makes up the difference.
This is all fine and well, except some of these farmers are abusing the system. Investigators found that some farms weren’t even producing any crops on all the land that was claimed for their subsidies. I know there are a lot of real, struggling farmers out there and I just think it’s ridiculous that millions of dollars are given to farmers who don’t even need it. Can I get an audit, hallelujah?!
The show also reported how food prices have reached a record high and that food programs and shelters are receiving more patrons then ever. One of the interviews was with an 80 year-old woman who lived on one bell pepper for two days. Was there a more perfect way to start off my Friday night? Why does the world suck??? Just kidding. I really am a positive person and firmly believe that compassion is still in fashion. See, would a self-respecting, cynical pessimist dare rhyme?? No way, Jose.
Anyway, the whole story really is sad. I plan on making monthly donations of fresh fruits and vegetables to my local food shelter. Grandmas got to eat.
I just know what the crowd wants, don’t I? So I was watching “Bill Moyers' Journal” on PBS last Friday night (I got totally wasted after, don’t worry) and featured was a story on farming subsidies. It was basically about how we still have a lot of poverty and hunger in America, yet millions of our tax money goes towards these “unnecessary” farmer subsidies. The government awards certain farms subsidies depending on how much land the farm owns and how well the market is doing. If farms cannot sell enough crops at their estimated value, the government makes up the difference.
This is all fine and well, except some of these farmers are abusing the system. Investigators found that some farms weren’t even producing any crops on all the land that was claimed for their subsidies. I know there are a lot of real, struggling farmers out there and I just think it’s ridiculous that millions of dollars are given to farmers who don’t even need it. Can I get an audit, hallelujah?!
The show also reported how food prices have reached a record high and that food programs and shelters are receiving more patrons then ever. One of the interviews was with an 80 year-old woman who lived on one bell pepper for two days. Was there a more perfect way to start off my Friday night? Why does the world suck??? Just kidding. I really am a positive person and firmly believe that compassion is still in fashion. See, would a self-respecting, cynical pessimist dare rhyme?? No way, Jose.
Anyway, the whole story really is sad. I plan on making monthly donations of fresh fruits and vegetables to my local food shelter. Grandmas got to eat.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Individual Blog Post #1: The FCC Won't Let Me Be
Word Count: 188
About four months ago, The Federal Communications Commission voted to lift a 30-year-old ownership ban that prevented big media companies from owning more than one major media medium in one city. In other words, one company can now own the major newspaper, TV or radio station in that same city. When I was made aware of this in one of my media classes, I was shocked. How could the FCC do something that would so greatly harm the diversity and availability of local channels and stations? Thankfully, some members of the congress were also strongly opposed to the FCC's decision.
Now, two representatives, Jay Inslee and Dave Reichert, are introducing the "Media Ownership Act of 2007," to try and overturn the FCC's new rule. I just wanted to update whoever is reading this because the fight is not over. It just really scares me because these big media moguls have the money and power to really take over anything that they want. I mean, if I wanted to own my own radio station in the future, how am I supposed to compete with the money being offered by big companies? Unfortunately, this is a reality some stations already have to deal with.
About four months ago, The Federal Communications Commission voted to lift a 30-year-old ownership ban that prevented big media companies from owning more than one major media medium in one city. In other words, one company can now own the major newspaper, TV or radio station in that same city. When I was made aware of this in one of my media classes, I was shocked. How could the FCC do something that would so greatly harm the diversity and availability of local channels and stations? Thankfully, some members of the congress were also strongly opposed to the FCC's decision.
Now, two representatives, Jay Inslee and Dave Reichert, are introducing the "Media Ownership Act of 2007," to try and overturn the FCC's new rule. I just wanted to update whoever is reading this because the fight is not over. It just really scares me because these big media moguls have the money and power to really take over anything that they want. I mean, if I wanted to own my own radio station in the future, how am I supposed to compete with the money being offered by big companies? Unfortunately, this is a reality some stations already have to deal with.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Journal #4a Drinking Coffee Elsewhere by Z.Z. Packer
chapter: Brownies
Word Count: 223
After reading through the chapter, I observed that she is a very descriptive writer. The author uses descriptions that are fitting of her character’s mind. For example, the description of the white girls as a “blend of ice-cream (strawberry and vanilla)” and the observation off their Disney sleeping bags are things that a young girl would notice. Packer’s use of acrostics adds humor and irony to the story. I thought it was funny that these holy items were being broken down into acronyms as if anyone could ever forget what these figures and things stood for.
Her use of descriptions plays a major role in her story telling. Octavia’s self-important personality is reflected by her long hair, the only long-haired black girl out of the bunch. Again Packer’s describes through her main character’s eyes when she uses a “shiny new earring” as a simile for Daphne’s voice.
The style of this chapter is overall light and entertaining but with moments of seriousness and innocent questionings that have much darker explanations. For example, the story becomes about one of the black girls questioning if one of the white girls had used the N word. Though the girls seem to only want to find out the truth for revenge, the underlying meaning seems to be directed to the social injustice happening during that time.
Word Count: 223
After reading through the chapter, I observed that she is a very descriptive writer. The author uses descriptions that are fitting of her character’s mind. For example, the description of the white girls as a “blend of ice-cream (strawberry and vanilla)” and the observation off their Disney sleeping bags are things that a young girl would notice. Packer’s use of acrostics adds humor and irony to the story. I thought it was funny that these holy items were being broken down into acronyms as if anyone could ever forget what these figures and things stood for.
Her use of descriptions plays a major role in her story telling. Octavia’s self-important personality is reflected by her long hair, the only long-haired black girl out of the bunch. Again Packer’s describes through her main character’s eyes when she uses a “shiny new earring” as a simile for Daphne’s voice.
The style of this chapter is overall light and entertaining but with moments of seriousness and innocent questionings that have much darker explanations. For example, the story becomes about one of the black girls questioning if one of the white girls had used the N word. Though the girls seem to only want to find out the truth for revenge, the underlying meaning seems to be directed to the social injustice happening during that time.
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