The Unhealthy Side of School

This morning I got up at the ripe hour of 6:30. Offcourse, I didn't actually get out of bed for another twenty minutes, as I can't help but roll around in my bed, and dream of sleeping in it all day. This has become a daily routine of sorts, which isn't a good habit. However, I'm not the only high schooler who dreads getting out of bed. Truth is, if most high schoolers had our way, we sould stay in bed all day. I've always thought school causes ridiclious amounts of stress, at least New Trier. I have 14+ tests in the next week, so can you blame me for wanting to stay in bed? The stress that comes with styuding for these tests builds up, and makes me anxious. It upsets me that even though I have workedbeyond  expecatations this past semester, my grades might all be ruined by finals. Finals are more than a "test", they are a societal function which proves your worth to your future college. This thought, is the thought that ends up stressing out countless highschoolers. If we don't score well on our final tests, we may ruin our chances to get into a good college. Finals are unfair because they make me feel worthless. Excessivley studying over materials I am already supposed to know, is frustrating. In school I commonly think it's okay to bomb a test ONCE in a while, because there is always a new unit after. But FINALS, makes this statement false. During the weeks before finals I have to cram study. The past week I have already started studying, and cramming to know what I do not. I haven't had enough time to make my own food, eat in peace, or even shower. Yes I went there, For three days this week I didn't shower, and it felt nasty.

               A picture of me stressed out 

 Stress during finals, and school, is more than an 'annoyance'. It is outright cruel. There is something wrong with a system that puts education over your emotinal well being. Furthermore, if a person is not in a good sense of well being, they perform poorer on their tests. Therefore this system  is not only cruel, but also unfair. School is unfortunately the root of almost all the stress in my life, I've even realized acne starts to appear when I have large tests coming up. This is because I don't get enough time to eat, shower or sleep. If I didn't do a good job convincing you with my rant...Check out this podcast: http://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2013/12/02/246599742/school-stress-takes-a-toll-on-health-teens-and-parents-say. 

 

Why Wealth class played a factor in Laquan Mcdonald's murder

I'm a privileged white, wealthy male teenager,  living in a wealthy American neighborhood. I have a 2015 Jeep Wrangler, I drive to school, and I wear a Rolex Submariner to school daily. To put it simply, my life is awesome. Though like anyone living a near-utopian lifestyle, I pretend my life is a chaotic,  and stressful hell hole. If you're still reading my blog at this point, it's for one of two reasons: You are wealthy yourself, and can relate to  what I am saying...or...you're an average person, who is angered by my comments and wants to continue reading to judge me ( I'm slightly judging myself for even writing this). Both of these reasons are understandable, because we as human  beings we instinctively enjoy being around the company of people we can relate too, and fathom others who have what we do not. This is why wealth classes, are controversial in our country. Wealth class literally separates people from enjoying the company of those who are poorer or wealthier than they are. Wealth class separates us just as race separates us... though of course we love to pretend neither of these major boundaries exist within our society. If I were to hop on a highway, and drive just 30 minutes, I would end up in a different world. Thirty minutes away from me is a world full of crime, grime, and terror. Kids are horrified to walk to school for the chance of them of being shot dead, is high.  This city is known as Chicago. However, all of Chicago is as dangerous as the news makes it seem. In reality it's just the South and West sides that make Chicago famous as being America's most deadliest city. About a year ago, a black man Laquan Mcdonald was walking on the streets of the west side, waving a knife into the air. The Chicago Police Department received a complaint about the man, and sent a police officer out of his patrol car to subdue the target. As the man turns around and starts walking away, a police officer made a disgusting move. The officer, Van Dyke, decided to shoot the 17-year-old boy, sixteen times. The boy never even tried to assault the officer.  There's video proof of the incident, you can check it out here:
http://www.cnn.com/2015/12/01/us/chicago-police-shooting-explainer/index.html

I hate thinking these incidents still occur in our country, who doesn't? And yet, the thought of an innocent black man being killed on the streets is nothing new. I am outraged that a man can be shot to dead on the street for simply holding a knife--- in a state that allows the ownership of guns. The Laquan Mcdonald incident brings special pain to me, because it happened right near my house.The neighborhood Laquan was shot in was a lower income area.  As a kid, I used to imagine that I could go down to the city, and help those who suffer. I always imagined a future where my money would be spent towards helping the needy...and yet I realize now, I am distancing myself from that path. I spend money on myself, I want too many things, I have adapted myself to buy 'stuff' so I can be happy. Is this sad? Sure, but it's only as sad as I choose to let it make me. I refuse to let stuff consume me. I like most people my age always tell myself: "One day, when I have what I need, then I will help those who are needy." I tell myself I'm a great person, by promising myself that one day soon, I will lend a helping hand to those who need it. This cycle is the curse of 21st-century wealth. Middle-class citizens get so caught up in buying, and "living the good life", that they forget that real problems exist in the world. We want to live a perfect utopian style life, and we want to pretend the whole world lives the way we do. To this day, we find many racial problems continue to persist within our society (Such as the police shooting of Laquan), and yet we turn a blind eye. We do this as a way to "defend" ourselves from the harsh reality of the world... for we live in a blind Utopia. We must join, or die. Poor, rich, black, white, Asian, it doesn't matter, for nothing will ever change until we start seeing eachother as equal.

American Beauty

 Earlier today I watched a Ted talk on Beauty. It got me thinking what is beauty? And how does beauty affect our American Society? You can watch the video here: https://www.ted.com/talks/denis_dutton_a_darwinian_theory_of_beauty?language=en
What do you think of when you hear the word "Beauty"? Perhaps you dream of a sunny day, with clear blue skies. Maybe you imagine a beach with waves crashing against the sandy coast, or do you think of a baby making her first steps towards you, or even a cat gently purring next to you on a bed. You might even think of a woman with golden blonde hair smiling at you, as she motions for you to follow her into the horizon.
Now, beauty baffles me. I have always found myself being emotionally attached to beautiful forces. You see Beauty, is a strange characteristic  because no matter how often we try to put a standard label on it, we never seem to commonly agree on a definition. We’ve all heard of the expression “Beauty is in the eye’s of the beholder” but what exactly does this mean? 
When I think of beauty being in the eye’s of the beholder, I imagine that we are able to create beauty around us, if our mind desires. A few days ago I was sitting in my glossy, mid-century kitchen staring at the small purple flower that sits peacefully perched on a bookshelf. I thought of the beauty the flower posses. It was given to my loving mother for her birthday many years ago. As I stare into the plant I start going into a deep daydream. I realize it is no longer the small stem it once was. The once puny green stem, now blossoms upwards and opens up to display an array of epic purple colors. As I continue looking at the plant I realize my mind has started shutting out the world of beauty around me. My thoughts have become similar to those of a stressed out American citizen. Everyday I wake up, and work myself to fatigue, in hopes of fulfilling an acceptable role within our working society. The last few years have come and gone at an unbelievable pace. I’ve become obsessed with succeeding— my mind has been trained to crave nothing else. But as I stare into this plant, I realize that I have never had a moment,  to just slow down… and respect the beautiful flowers that have blossomed on top.—{My heart fills up like a balloon} This is my perception of beauty, and though it fits our stereotypical American  perception of beauty, it is ultimately only unique to me.
 Now I could go on for hours about how different perceptions affect the outcome of beauty, but there is an idea that is larger, and places an even greater importance on our idea of beauty.
That idea is passion. Passion is a strong and barely controllable emotion, which turns the most intelligent people into obsessively dedicated creators. Americans are creators, we are makers, and we are doers. And yet we would be none of this if it wasn’t for our passion. Passion is the driving force of ultimate dedication. Without passion we would never be able to accomplish all the wonders we have. In order to view the beauty around our world; a person must have a source of passion to compare the beauty too. Take a painter as an example. A painter has an extraordinary amount of passion for his art, and a unique perception at his art. This is because he is the one who has made it.  His perception combined  with his passion leads into his own unique understanding of beauty.” That understanding is special to the individual for no other person can truly understand his passion. Now, that doesn’t stop others from attempting to understand the artist’s passion. Every person decodes a painting with their own guidelines, after all. Each person views the piece of art in a completely different perspective, as the person tries to apply it into their own unique life, so they too can see beauty. 
“Beauty is in the eye’s of the beholder.”  However, in a more literal sense, our desire for beauty is dictated by a strong necessity for survival. The need for beauty is intertwined with darwin’s theory of Natural selection. Take for example the sight of a rotting fish. Imagine  the smell omitting from the dead creature— Obviously this is anything but a pleasuring sight…We have evolved to understand rotten fish isn’t healthy for our bodies. So what is our reaction when we approach the dead specimen? We become repulsed. A rotting, dead fish is not seen as ‘beautiful’. Now switch gears, and think of a Women’s curvy hips. Men have a ridiculous lust for a woman with good hips, and believe it or not there is an appropriate reason for this. A woman with sturdy hips has a body which is well built to support a child in her womb. Darwin states that Beauty is nature’s way of acting at a distance. The implications are clear—we were born with a desire for beauty. Beauty is not purely based on what our American culture and society have deems as ‘beautiful.’
Rather the foundation of beauty has been located in our brains since we were born. In our evolutionary past beauty was used as a survival tactic, noticing beauty has literally allowed our ancestors to survive. In America, within our modern age, this is still true—beauty assists our survival, because with beauty we accomplish otherwise impossible achievements. These achievements give us a reason to survive and thrive together as a nation. I'd like to borrow a quote from one of my all time favorite movies: American Beauty: Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing all this beauty at once, and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain, and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my life.
 Beauty extends beyond aesthetic appeal. Beauty is being emotionally moved by anything. Beauty is somewhere within ourselves. It is when the object that’s deemed beautiful mirrors the beauty within ourselves, that we find it beautiful. 

Racial Equality on the North Shore

Today is my mother's birthday, which means that I will  frantically attempt to balance my educational obligations, while trying to leave just enough time to celebrate with her. The past hour I have been attempting to start my homework, but find myself constantly spacing out, perhaps I'm feeling anxious because I have no idea what to say in her birthday letter.

 Putting my daily complications aside;  a few minutes ago, I watched a mini documentary recommended to me by my social studies teacher: Todd Maxman. The documentary speaks about the 'North Shore Summer Project', a program held in 1965. The NSSP sparked plenty of controversy within a time period, when white property buyers were still considered 'elite' when compared to black buyers.

You can check out the video here before I go into depth about it: http://chicagotonight.wttw.com/2015/07/23/50-years-later-fair-housing-movement-north-shore-marches

During the documentary I was surprised that housing equality in the North Shore was still a problem in the 1960's. While the time period makes sense, as the hippies didn't take over till the late 60's, I was still confused when I heard this was an issue on the shore. You see, I've always imagined the North Shore being ahead of its time, perhaps in the past the North Shore did not have this infamy. Today, when an outsider travels into our community ( I live in the North shore) they quickly take notice of how modern we live. In the past our buildings were generally on par with the rest of middle class america. Decently sized mid century ranches dotted the landscape (except for Sheridan Road, a street reserved for only the most elite). Within the past forty years, Glencoe, Winnetka Kenilworth, Wilmette, and Northfield have evolved into modern, picturesque utopias. Though the size of our houses has significantly increased, our housing diversity has yet to follow. Generally, today we still live the same we have the same diversity makeup. in the 1960's Glencoe was home to the most Jews in the New Trier township, and remains as such to this day. However what really is surprising, is the fact that the population of blacks in the community has in fact decreased 50% since 1960.

Glencoe, IL (inc. 1869)
Year	Total (and by category)		Foreign Born	Native with foreign parentage	Males per 100 females
1900	1,020		—	—	—
1930	6,295		16.9%	27.0%	82
	5,975	White (94.9%)
	313	Negro (5.0%)
	7	Other (0.1%)
1960	10,472		6.8%	28.2%	88
	9,794	White (93.5%)
	655	Negro (6.3%)
	23	Other races (0.2%)
1990	8,499		7.1%	—	92
	8,000	White (94.1%)
	279	Black (3.3%)
	202	Asian/Pacific Islander (2.4%)
	18	Other race (0.2%)
	77	Hispanic Origin* (0.9%)
2000	8,762		6.5%	—	95
	8,330	White alone (95.1%)
	176	Black or African American alone (2.0%)
	4	American Indian and Alaska Native alone (0.0%)
	147	Asian alone (1.7%)
	23	Some other race alone (0.3%)
	82	Two or more races (0.9%)
	108	Hispanic or Latino* (1.2%)

Chart stolen from http://www.encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org/pages/518.html

There are many factors which can attribute towards such a significant drop in population of black americans in Glencoe,  however the big idea here is the growing wealth-income gap. Within the past few decades the poor have become less wealthy, while the wealthy have become ultra-wealthy. Now I'm not going to go on a rant about how the 1% are bad, or how the poor need to become wealthier, rather I am making a larger point that diversity is effected by income. In the 1960's people fought for a more diverse North Shore, and yet ironically,  in the case of Glenoce, they received a less diverse community. This brings up a bunch of questions: How did Glencoe, a diversified Jewish and Christian community become generically white? One would expect that after the North Shore Summer Project, the community would comply and gentrify. But it didn't. The most logical reason would have to be that the growing income-gap in America has effected diversity. As an adverse and unexpected effect of Glencoians become 'wealthier' they have in return started rejected improvised citizens, many of whom are black. The truth is blacks can no longer afford to live in Glencoe as they once did. They have pushed out as an indirect consequence of a society separated by income. 

Black Americans are not alone, others too feel their hardship. My own mother and father are Russian jews. Though they are not 'black', they still can relate to the harsh feelings others have given them, simply for being Russian jews. After facing discrimination allover the world, I still ponder how my parents survived in America, and made it to the prosperous northern suburbs of Chicago.  Their journey has been awesome and awe-inspiring to listen too. Now I know exactly what to write on my mom's letter, I will thank her for making it so far in life, even with the challenges she faced. 

Journeying Deep Into The Costa Rican Jungle to Find The Meaning of a Pure Life

“Pura Vida!” I yelled as I jumped off the cliff to rappel down the fast paced currents of the Baru, a deep waterfall within the jungles of Costa Rica. I rappelled myself slightly down, fearing the drop underneath me. Not able to stop for a second to inhale a deep breath of fresh air, struggling to take a breath, I continued my way down the 365-foot tall waterfall. Cautiously pushing my cord through the feeder, I thought, “Don’t look down, Don’t look down.” Of course now I had too. Staring down the waterfall, I took note of the looming drop underneath me, enough to fit a skyscraper. My head was spinning, my stomach churning, “I am going to die”, were the five words that would not leave me mind. “I hate myself”, I thought.  I was an ant next to a mountain---I proceeded to rappel deeper down the waterfall, pausing to stare out into the gracious open valley ahead of me, abandoned by human inhabitants. The wind blew my short hair as I swung freely --- in the middle of the air.  I let the water swallow me up with its grace---I loved it. In those moments as the water frantically surged into my mouth, I had never felt so happy in my entire life. I was on top of the world.

            “Pura Vida” is a Costa Rican proverb, which translates into Pure Life, a saying that all Costa Ricans attempt to live by. The two words are such a drug to the people, they will use it for virtually everything, It’s embedded into their culture, it’s their version of Y.O.L.O.   In fact, a Tico will never approach anyone saying the traditional “Hola” but straight away let “Pura Vida” roll off their tongues.  I, as well as the 15 other kids whom I was with, eventually grew accustomed to the slang. 

“Pura Vida, Man!”, was the first sound I heard as I was reaching the bottom of the rappel. Looking up I noticed Eduardo, our Native Costa Rican guide start come closer to the waterfall base: “You’re the first one bro!” he yelled, attempting to pierce through sound of the waterfall. I smiled at him, as I was unclipping my harness from the rappel, not taking notice of the slippery boulder underneath my feet as I slipped off and into a deep pool of water. I frantically swam to the edge of the water towards the boulders, I was at the bottom, this was land, and I survived. At that point I noticed it: The reason we had rappelled down the waterfall in the first place. The cave stood quietly situated beneath the waterfall, water gently rushing quickly past, into anther steep drop. I stood breathlessly----mystified as to how such a place exists. This was the place we would sleep in for the night: In a cave, underneath a waterfall, miles from civilization, in the middle of a jungle.  “PURA VIDA”, I yelled as I ran towards the cave. When I first reached the cave I realized the conditions inside were more than acceptable; they were luxury. Beds were laid out on one end, a bathroom complex a few feet out, and even a kitchen took up space within the middle of the cave. On top of it all of, I was left with an uninterrupted view of water streaming from the waterfall above.  As the sun started to set, and night was approaching, everyone came down from the waterfall and joined together for dinner. The night before we slept was unforgettable. Everything seemed to be going off well, however I hadn’t yet realized the horrors that lay ahead of me. While everyone was choosing beds to sleep in for the night, I was too busy to notice as I strummed the strings of my ukulele, which would prove to be a large mistake. I was given the only bed left. While all the other beds were either raised, or dug into the ground, mine was flat on the ground; making it easily accessible to deadly jungle insects. To further raise my optimism, my bed was strategically placed next to a group of a wonderful species known as---Scorpion Spiders. Complementing metal colored bodies these spiders could as well be from both prehistoric times, and the 31^st century. After complaining to the guides excessively one of them realistically responded: “If one bites you, you would die within an hour”--- speaking plainly without any humor involved.   “Don’t worry at least 90 others have slept in your bed, we have never had a problem”, another guide responded.  After hearing about how deadly the spiders were it was somewhat a relief to hear that others had survived where I slept. I let it go; “I’m going to sleep next to them, I need to fight my fears”, I thought. I walked back to my bed to allow myself to sleep, but suddenly noticed seven people around my bed as I heard one guy screech: “IT’S UNDER HIS BED!!!!”,I saw the lump ripple underneath the mat, placed around the mattress. Marching back to kitchen, I attempted to convince a group of guides to check my bed. Refusal after Refusal, none of them wanted too. Eventually I stood, shaking above me bed. I was ready to faint--- Until suddenly Jessie; a guide appeared to check the mattress. He lifted the mattress and I watched in amazement as the spider crawled an inch away from my toes, back into its nesting area.  The whole night fear overtook me, a thought of being attacked by the seven spiders at once. I even rolled onto other people’s mattress just to avoid being a spider shield for everyone else. Eventually as I fell asleep, I realized how physically and mentally draining the day had been. 

As I closed my eyes that night I realized the true meaning of Pura Vida: A person must do what they fear, in order to enjoy their lives. 

The cave accommodations: my bed was the one flat on the ground, in the far back. 

Ever since that moment, I have installed that thinking process deep into my head. Whenever I fear anything, I will purposely do it. This is a way my brain has learned to fight of fears, however I'm not the only one who realizes this. Fighting your fears is engraved in our daily american ideology. Attempting to become fearless is as much a part of us as the constitution itself. We fight against our fears constantly to achieve the fearless image we desire. How do you fight with your fears?

Why is Racism so heavily hidden, yet prevalent in our society?

Yesterday I was doing my daily news search, scanning different news sources for important. consumable information.  I was having trouble finding anything interesting since the only thing any news agency cared about at the time was either the iPhone 6, or Donald Trump's campaign for presidency; both of which I could care less about. Eventually I ran into this interesting article about a young boy. You can read it here: http://www.geekwire.com/2015/heres-what-microsoft-gave-the-teenager-who-was-arrested-for-bringing-a-homemade-clock-to-school/. The article speaks about a young 14 year-old boy named Mohammed who made a clock as a gift for his teacher.

Even though his intentions were nothing but an innocent attempt to impress his teacher, the boy faced severe consequences. You see in the eyes of authority this no ordinary child, as his name is Mohammed, which automatically translates to: Terrorist.  The school Mohammed attends notified the authorities that Mohammed may have made a bomb, and suddenly the poor child's life was turned upside down. Mohammed expected a welcoming thank you from his teacher, but instead he received a trip to the local jail. There he was interrogated for hours on end, without permission from his parents (Interrogation without parental consent is illegal). We americans like to believe that we do not racially profile, and we put faith in our officials to carry out the law in the most fair way possible.  Unfortunately this is not the country we live in... it never has been. Profiling based on stereotypes is as much a part of this country as the Declaration of Independence. This leads me to ask you a question: why is racism so hidden in our society? I believe that we as a society do a great job in creating a two faced system. We do a great job of burying our stereotypical beliefs deep underneath our personalties. As an outcome of this, when we are asked about racism we quickly deny any existence of it, and move on with our lives. I think that we as Americans must accept that racism is heavily prevalent in our society, so that we can work together to change it.

Does School Murder Creativity?

This morning I woke up with a throbbing headache, and a voice in my head telling me to stay in bed. When my mother came into my bedroom, I quickly expressed to her how terrible I was feeling. She quickly called the doctor and New Trier, to affirm them of my absence. I fell asleep as she did this. An hour or two later I woke up (again) to eat breakfest, and as usual I had no idea what to watch on my apple TV. I noticed a new "Ted" app had appeared. After a quick browse through the app I started watching a twenty minute video called: "Does School Kill Creativity?". Throughout the video a popular educator speaks about education throughout the course of history. As he does this he explains that the necessity of education was brought up in the industrial area. Pre and industrial age, people have been taught how to properly function and behave for their certain jobs. But in our modern day, A.K.A. The Information Age, this is no longer the most important quality.

In our modern day people succeed daily, with out without college. Steve Jobs, and Bill Gates, are just two of the world's most popular examples of college dropouts who become destined for success. These men may have been the first examples of success without school, but they are certainly not the last. As years go by, we hear stories of countless others succeeding without a full college education. In fact speaking as a teenager, it is considered significantly more fashionable to create a successful lifestyle straight out of high school. Don't get me wrong--- I desire an educated, bright mind. With that being said, I do desire success. And as many before me, I desire that success as quick as I can get it. Yet in our era I feel as if school is actually slowing down my ability to succeed, by murdering my creativity. Allow me to explain. Every year school ends around the second week of June. After a few days of relaxing I notice my mindset starts to change. I start thinking about what I desire for myself, what I want in my life, and in general become a happy guy. Summer allows me to shy away from the boring never ending school grind. Summer allows me to create accomplishable ideas instead of spending time memorizing pointless flash cards. Just this past summer, I came up with an inconceivable idea.  I came up with a revolutionary idea for an App called "P+lus", and submitted into a contest sponsored by Uber.

There were 5,000 entries but only 10 made it into the "UberVenture" program. Think "Shark Tank" but with the ability to order an Uber, with a venture capitalist investor inside of it. For a short four hours, I was waiting for an Uber to show up with an investor that I could pitch my idea to.  No investor ever showed up, to any of the ten contest finalists. It was later revealed that the whole contest was a giant publicity stunt ran by Uber. Regardless, I didn't care, as I had finally put together a 12 page proposal for my app. The ability to not be worried by the constant stress that school places on me, allowed me think in a creative way. Unfortunately the truth in my reality is that school kills creativity, but that is a small price to pay for the power, and intelligence which my highschool provides.

If you'd like to swatch the Ted Talk you can here:
http://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robinson_says_schools_kill_creativity?language=en