The Experience of Writing

The experience of writing...

Helen Keller said it best:

"It seems to me that the great difficulty of writing is to make the language of the educated mind express our confused ideas, half feelings, half thoughts, when we are little more than bundles of instinctive tendencies. Trying to write is very much like trying to put a chinese puzzle together. We have a pattern in mind which we wish to work out in words; but the words will not fit the spaces, or, if they do, they will not match the design. But we keep on trying because we know that others have succeeded, and we are not willing to acknowledge defeat." (The Story of My Life, chap XIV).

My experience of writing is similar to the above summary of Keller's self-expressed feelings towards the written language. However, Keller and I were born with more than a century between us, resulting in differences of both our society and uses of the english language.

Another difference between us is that I am neither blind nor deaf, where she was both. These disabilities provide her with an extreme disadvantage, yet she writes and expresses herself in such an advanced way, one that I could only dream and aspire to. At times she must have felt isolated and inescapably alone, left to her own device with nothing but time to internalize her thoughts and feelings; but, did this in-iteslf prove to be advantageous for Keller? She had the time to thoroughly think things through before she typed them.

"A look is often the very soul of what one says."(chap VII). Therefore, I may not have the ability to express myself through words the way she did, but I also rely on sight and sound as a means for self-expression, two things Keller did not have.

In conclusion, writing this blog entry out by pen and paper first, did prove to be enjoyable. I find it thrilling to stare at a blank piece of paper, because it conjures up inspiration for the words that I hope will come. However, it also makes writing more difficult. I dislike not having the ability to back-track and edit the way I can with modern day technology. Thus so far, this blog entry is not written in as organized a manner as I usually am able to achieve by means of a word processor on my mac laptop. Whereby I can cut, copy and paste my ideas into a more organized format at my leisure, Keller must have struggled with this also. Or, maybe it is all about what one gets used too? We are, after all conditioned by our surroundings and I am surrounded by - the digital era.

The Anonymity Issues with The World-Wide-Web

My professor wants me to write a 500-word essay on how issues of race and gender interact with the issue of potential anonymity online. Okay, cool. This is a broad topic for so few words, and to top it off, I’m required to have some sort evidence to back up my logical reasoning. So where to begin?

Firstly, my opinion is that race should not be an issue with anonymity online. If anything, the world-wide-web makes us interconnected and increases our accessibility to all different races. The world is no longer a large and foreign place. We are becoming more similar, or at least increasingly understanding, to different races each and every day. For evidence to back up my reasoning type the term ‘global village’ into Google and see for yourself the information that comes up. (Or, go directly to: http://www.globalization101.org/the-global-village)

However, maybe I am being a little too optimistic about race on a global scale. For instance, if someone’s second language is English and they posted something anonymous online, I might be able to decipher from their use of vocabulary or slang that they are a different race, which would pose as an issue for online anonymity. But race does not really pose as too big of an issue, especially in the multi-cultural country I live; every day we become increasing assimilated to the point where I could not detect someone’s race in an anonymous post. For example, I have a friend, I knew he wasn’t originally from our country because of his beautiful darker complexion, but I had no idea what his ethnic background may be. Why? Because he has the exact same mannerisms as anyone else in our age demographic and I couldn’t detect an accent other than the one I assume everyone of this nationality has. So one day, I asked him what his ethnicity is he told me he’s East Indian, or at least, that is where his family is originally from. He was born here in this country and although he may be a different ‘race,’ if he were to post anonymously online, I would not be able to detect that he was East Indian.

Now, gender is a different thing all together, gender can be more identifiable with a person’s writing style, views and even adjectives used. Therefore gender is an issue with online anonymity. For instance, I used the words, “beautiful darker complexion” to describe my East Indian friend. From this adjective used, you as the reader can possibly predict my gender. For one, if you view that ‘sex’ and ‘gender’ are interchangeable then you would assume that I am a heterosexual woman, as no straight male would use the adjective ‘beautiful’ to describe a male friend. However, if you know anything about the binary sex-gender system (for more information on it go to: https://www.genderspectrum.org/understanding-gender)then you could also assume that I could also be a homosexual male, or possibly transgender. Either way, my writing style can lead a reader to conjure up ideas as to my gender identity, posing an issue for online anonymity.

 So, to conclude, while race and gender both may pose as an issue for online anonymity, this relationship is not an equal one. In the context of our multicultural society, wherein many different ethnicities assimilate under one nation, race does not play a major role in its impact on anonymity.  

Take Out Your Headphones and Notice Me!

Firstly I would like to start out this blog by saying that I am a sweet and considerate person but like all human beings, I have flaws. Number one is that I am impatient and number two is that I don’t like it when people don’t pay attention to me. Now my flaws may stem from the fact that I am the middle child and have subconsciously always craved attention, but, whatever the case, I believe my flaws are the reason why the following scenario bugs me so much. Every time I work a flight this is what happens:

 I begin my daily inflight service by having my trolley in front of me and push it down the aisle. I stop at seat 1A, smile sweetly and ask the lady sitting there, “Ma’am can I offer you a beverage?” But of course to my usual dismay, there is no comment, or even an acknowledgement of my existence. Next, I try lightly waving my hand in her peripheral vision get the attention of this lady and repeat, “Ma’am, may I get you a beverage?” This time she recognizes that someone is speaking to her, so she drudgingly peels her head away from the inflight entertainment system and looks at me with a blank stare. I repeat for the third time, still smiling sweetly. Her response to my question is, “Whaaa?!” I repeat my question again for the fourth time, with that oh so genuine smile on my face, “Ma’am, may I offer you a beverage?” She repeats, “whaat!?” Then she huffs, pulls out her earphones and I have to repeat myself for the fifth time. I still have a sweet smile on my face but this time I start to feel the muscles in my jaw flex ever so slightly. Finally, I get her a coke. Then I get to 2B, and this is when it starts to get really fun. “Sir, may I offer you a beverage?” No response. “Sir” I say as I lightly wave my hand to get his attention. “May I get you a beverage?” There is still no acknowledgement of me standing right in front of him, so I try again. After three persistent attempts and no recognition from the gentleman I give up. I cannot stand in front of the man who won’t even take notice of my very presence. Yet, I still have that cute smile plastered on my face, and taking a deep breath I re-adjust my scarf, pushing the trolley further down the aisle. I encounter several more instances like the women in 1A and right before I am about to ask the child in 5D what she would like to drink, I hear the flight attendant call button. It’s from the gentleman seating of 2B, and as I make my way over to him he pipes up, “um excuse me miss, but it seems you missed me.” It is clear by his hostile tone of voice that he’s irritated that I ‘somehow managed’ to miss him.  All I want to say is: “NO I DIDN’T MISS YOU, you just weren’t paying any fucking attention!!!!!” But I don’t, of course not, no, never. Instead, I smile sweetly and profusely apologize for my mistake in forgetting to ask him for a beverage. I ask him what he would like, trying hard to keep my smile plastered on my face so that he can’t tell that all I want to do is tip the beverage on him.  And then, I push the trolley back on…20 more rows to go!

Dear readers of this class, I swear I am a very sweet thing.... but next time you’re on one of my flights please, please, please, take out your damn headphones and notice me!!!!!!

A peculiar Event, Written for My Professor and Fellow Classmates Alike.

          People are often inquisitive when I mention my line of work, though I cannot quite place a finger on exactly why it stems such idle curiosity. Perhaps it’s the stereotypical uniforms that have managed to stay timelessly static in an ever-changing world - ties for males, scarfs that females wrap around their necks, and four symmetrical stripes all Captains wear proudly upon both their shoulders. Or perhaps it’s a combination of this distinctive uniform with the suitcases that roll alongside us as we make our way amongst the buzz of the airport and onto planes that have the potential to take us anywhere. Yes, perhaps this is the reason why people are so curious… Are these ongoing travellers provoked to look upon us with fascination and intrigue of our supposed glamorous lifestyles?  

Although I may not be able to provide a definitive answer as to the reason why people are so curious about my career, I am often able to oblige their relentless and most persistent questions. Actually, I do so willingly by providing them with the dirty and ever most interesting tales of my career. Let me indicate, Professor, fellow classmates and anyone else who may stumble upon this blog: everyday in my line of work, I encounter a peculiar event.

 Today for instance, I worked the most peculiar of flights. It all started right after take off, I was smiling at passengers as I was making my way through the cabin when all of a sudden I smelt something. Actually, to say I smelt something is somewhat of an understatement. More like out of nowhere, an extreme odor slapped my nostrils. Now in my profession, we are trained to keep a heightened sense of awareness at all times. But at this very moment, my ability to smell was one of my five senses I would have been ever so willing to eradicate.  Adjectives do not exist in the English language for me to describe to you this peculiar odor. My co-workers and I could not fathom what it was exactly, this smell we were smelling. This proves to be a troublesome thing, as how do you ever hope to detain an odor if you don’t know what one such odor may be?

As the flight flew on, the odor, at a most exponential rate became increasingly odoriferous. At this point I had to make the call. “Um….Hellooo Captain. Er, it’s your flight attendant speaking and I uh, felt it necessary to bring to your attention Captain, that there is an odor. An odor of which we cannot define nor determine the exact location of its whereabouts.” My nostrils couldn’t have been more relieved at the response I received. As fate would have it, we were already on our descent and I could prepare for arrival.

            Upon arrival as I was saying my goodbyes to passengers, all that I received in response was muffled words. Sweaters were covering their entire faces, and if they did not own a sweater, then they were much too busy plugging their noses with their hands and breathing in through their mouth to even signify a response to my goodbye. Then, as the last person hurried off the aircraft, it was found. The odor. I heard my co-workers’ screams mid cabin, I ran over to assist and that’s when I saw it. The odor. It covered the entire seat, ran up the tray table and dripped brown goop onto the carpet. I have never seen anything quite like it, in such a mass quantity. I did not know up until that very moment that one human was capable of producing so much of it, and in one sitting. And now as I sit here and write this blog, still numb from the experience, I wonder, how did this person leave the aircraft without me noticing that they were completely covered in shit?

Dear readers, I do so ever apologize for the flicker of glamour you may have once felt towards my career. I feel it necessary to end this blog by stating that in this world, no matter the choice of career: shit happens. 

First Post

Hello World, or in particular Professor and fellow classmates.