Diane’s Thoughts…

On the morning of April 4, Richard Poplawski had an argument with his mother over their dog urinating on the carpet. Infuriated, Richard threatened his mother with an assault rifle and the terrified mom called the police to have her 23-year-old son arrested. When two officers responded to this rather typical dispute in Pittsburgh, they had no idea that Richard was already armed with guns and a Kevlar bulletproof vest. Poplawski shot and killed the two officers and retreated into the house to fire hundreds of rounds with an AK-47 to fend off a police SWAT team for four hours. He killed one other cop and wounded another.

 When police finally got to arrest and question Poplawski, he showed no sign of remorse. An officer that was on the scene claimed that, “he said he wishes he could have killed more Pittsburgh police officers” (Smalley). The most horrifying of all is that this was only one of a series of mass homicides that have left 58 people dead over the past month (Smalley).

Through this, one may easily come to the troubling question of how such a disturbed person could come into hand of these high-powered weapons. The manager of Braverman Arms Co., where Poplawski got his guns, says there was nothing suspicious about him when he filled out Form 4473—the questionnaire for a federally required background check (Smalley). He may have thought otherwise were he able to know that Poplawski had been discharged from the Marines for assaulting a drill sergeant and had gotten a restraining order for threatening to kill his ex-girlfriend (Smalley). It doesn’t take much to realize that people are getting their hands on high-powered weapons much too easily.

America is in dire need of stricter gun-control legislation. Guns kill. Americans murder each other with guns 19 times more often than do the people of the 25 other wealthiest nations (Kohn). Furthermore, among the 36 wealthiest, the United States has the highest proportion of suicides from guns (Kohn). While it is claimed that guns may be necessary to protect oneself and one’s loved ones, they may just as likely be used to provide criminals or mentally ill people with easy access to the means to cause irrevocable harm.

So what can we do? There are more than 250 million guns in public circulation in the U.S. (Statistics) With this astounding number, it is clearly irrational and unnecessary to wish them all away. Since we cannot enforce an absolute ban, what we need is a solid, structured set of restrictions that mandate more meticulous background checks, block the gun show loophole, and establish specific boundaries as to how and where one can use a gun.

In order to prevent criminals or mentally disturbed people from possessing guns, a more thorough and tighter screening is necessary before someone can purchase a gun. Under the Gun Control Act of 1968, there is a set of restrictions that declare certain people (ie: drug users, fugitives, mental defectives) ineligible to own firearm. However, these limitations are hard to ascertain and easily overlooked, as in the case of Poplawski. Lesser details such as mental sicknesses or minor felonies, that are undeniably crucial to understanding a potential threat, are often missed.

Furthermore, there is the gaping loophole of gun shows. People can easily bypass the process of going through a background check, or even showing identification, by purchasing a gun through a gun show. Handgun Control, Inc. asserts that “25-50 percent of the vendors at most gun shows are unlicensed dealers (Burnett).” Such an oversight dampens the usefulness of all other gun policies.

Additionally, there should be specific limitations as to where and how one may use a firearm. A commonly cited analogy for such firearm restrictions is that of the restrictions placed on owning and operating a motor vehicle. Cars are registered and licensed, just as are their operators. “Rules of the road” stipulate how a driver may use his or her vehicle. These rules place limitations on drivers, not as a punishment, but as a way to ensure the welfare and safety of travelers. While the “rules of the road” may vary from state to state, they are largely consistent in order to make the roads of the nation safe. Obviously, these rules are sometimes broken, and people are injured and killed. And sometimes they may seem not to apply, such as the rule that requires a stop at a red light at 2 a.m. when no other car is in sight. Yet we would be far worse off without them. Sensible regulation of firearms is just as reasonable.

Gun policy in the United States is also highly influenced by the Second Amendment to the United States Constitution, which prohibits infringement of “the right of the People to keep and bear arms (Warfel).” Advocates of gun rights claim that any type of gun control is unconstitutional because it violates this amendment. However, it is unreasonable to completely adhere to legislation that was created hundreds of years ago with different intentions. The second amendment was written in a time when slavery was legal. Times have drastically changed and the framers of the Bill of Rights couldn’t have seen everything that is happening in the modern age. It was a time when citizens had no other means to defend themselves against a tyrannical government. In this age and country with one of the strongest democratic frameworks, I doubt we have to worry about being tossed around by tyrannical rule.

As with any other issue, stricter restrictions on the possession and use of firearms will not totally solve the problem of gun violence. However, it needs no other justification if it can save at least one human life. Were the manager at Braverman Arms Co. able to prevent Poplawski from buying his weapons, three precious lives would have been spared just on that gruesome day. People will continue to suffer if we proceed to ignore the painfully clear evidence from the past. Without stricter control on firearms, innocent lives will continue to be slaughtered and America will always remain at gunpoint. 

Smoking cigarettes is physically detrimental, mentally degrading, and fiscally ridiculous.

Guns are an unnecessary accessory, an ineffective guard, and a growing threat to humanity. 

Imagine a convict that has just been situated to a ghastly prison cell. He has been taken from his family and confined to live within these cement walls for years. He has a clean floor, a bed, and a roof over his head, but would he consider this cell his home? Most likely not. Humans are such complex creatures that we need more than just a physical shelter to settle down and call some place a home. We need a place to belong, love, and remember. Thus a home is more of an emotional and memorable experience rather than just a physical dwelling. It is a childhood, a favorite time or location, a native country, a place of comfort and refuge. 

Since humans structure life through habit, the condition of a home may have significant psychological impacts. When I left home last summer for an exchange program in Korea, the thrill of the vacation only lasted the first week and it wasn’t long before I began to long for my mom’s home cooked meal, my dad’s low chuckle, and the slight musky scent of my room. I was homesick. The bunks lacked the fluff of my queen-sized bed and the tray food missed the vivid spice that my mom so loved to use. It wasn’t so much the physical house that I missed, but these little things that defined my personal experience and memory of home. Habit had made me feel empty when I lacked the familiarities of my everyday lifestyle.

But since home is this relative experience, you can always make a home out of anything. After the initial homesickness rubbed off, I got used to the new environment in Korea and it became my home for the summer. I would often be relieved to finish a day and return to the hard bunk and I would rejoice when a new menu was introduced in the cafeteria. I didn’t call my parents as much and it surprised me how close I got to the people on the trip with me. I even got used to the overwhelmingly muggy climate that always swamped me whenever I walked outside. I had grown into this setting and was satisfied enough to call it home.

My parents experienced a major shift in their concept of home when they immigrated to the US. They left behind their native country and embarked on a journey to seek new opportunities. As soon as they stepped foot into the foreign land, their elated hopes were devastated as they couldn’t find jobs with their limited English. It was especially hard for my father, who had gone from working at Samsung Insurance in Korea to cleaning motels in Tacoma. They had each expected a better start in the US but struggled to even make new friends they could relate to. Most of their family was still back in Korea and all they had with them was a few hundred dollars and a bundle of aspirations. (http://www.pressofatlanticcity.com/319/story/79396.html)

Although the culture was inevitably a major hurdle they had to surpass, they eventually found a unique midpoint between both worlds, establishing their own distinct culture, one that I would grow up in. We eat Kimchee with pasta, watch Lost with Korean subtitles, and speak a hybrid third language that we call “Konglish.” When my dad doesn’t know the appropriate English vocabulary to express himself, he simply adds “ing” to the Korean equivalent and it becomes an accepted word in our house (for instance, are you “muguh-ing?”). My folks are very much satisfied with their lives today, but they still comment how Korea is also home to them. “Times have changed and I have changed but this isn’t my only home today,” my dad would say. Since home is a relative experience, they can go back home in Korea by reliving old memories while at the same time embracing their new lives in America. (http://www.nfb.org/Images/nfb/Publications/bm/bm06/bm0607/bm060702.htm)

Humans are so much more versatile than we think we are. By nature, we are designed to adapt and find solutions so that we may survive in any situation. Few other creatures have this mental and physical capacity to fit into new locations. It is foolish not to take advantage of this tremendous flexibility and step outside the comforts of your home to learn and grow from new experiences. I say that there are many places like home, that anywhere you desire can be a suitable dwelling for such a resilient creature.

“Ding ding ding.” The unfamiliar note of the new school’s bells rang painfully in my ears, prompting the start of my second day at Woodland Elementary. The shrill note echoed across the dripping, vacant playground, where I inattentively waited for something to happen. The teachers who were supposed to be collecting us into classrooms were nowhere to be seen and I sat with blank confusion, wondering where to go. “Where is everyone and why didn’t anyone tell me where to go?” I slumped down on the ground, staring at the dye trickling from my jeans, slowing seeping into my new, white shoes. I was secretly satisfied by this damage and by the shudder running up my frozen back now stuck to my drenched jacket. This was my silent retaliation for what was already the third school my parents had put me in.

Lingering in front of the gaping doors, I tried to find someone to blame for this humiliating start to my second day. All I could think was that I didn’t have to be there. With my dad being a regional insurance claim representative, I spent the majority of my elementary days trailing through a series of schools all over Washington. My stomach turned whenever my dad spent hours online looking for houses and I stepped into school every day, anticipating my life to turn all over again. Each time he promised me that it wouldn’t happen again yet we kept relocating, and with each move, my trust in him wavered.

It felt like an eternity waiting on the soaked ground and the enormous school seemed to frown back at me as my patience quickly ticked away. I began to wonder if it would be faster to wait for my mom to pick me up after school. But it wasn’t until I couldn’t feel my limbs anymore that I gave up my tenuous protest and quietly crept into the building. Haltering a bit in front of Room 12, I forced myself to swallow my fear and pride and stumbled into the class that was already filled with my new classmates.

As I trudged over to the front seat, I struggled to ignore the poring eyes that seemed to reflect my confusion. “What is she doing?” “Do you know what time it is?” “Haha what a freak.” Great. Another label to add to my newbie status.

Ms. Brook met me with her fake smile, “Oh honey didn’t you know? It’s pouring out there! We never meet outside when it’s raining. Why did you stay out there?” Oh. Way to tell me now. It always seemed like an eternity to get used to a school but an instant to lose it all.

As lunch approached, I stressed about whom I would sit with, as I hadn’t really talked to anyone on the first day. But as I made the trip to the cafeteria, the familiar faces traced away to a room in the back and they all came out wearing flashy, neon vests, like they were in a gang or something. I must’ve stared for a while because a recognizable girl from my class came up to me. “We’re practicing for patrol. You should join, everyone does it. Here’s the application.” “Oh… thanks,” I replied. They skipped out in pairs and threes, all identified as a group by the ugly orange vests. It looked ridiculous but I couldn’t suppress the slight gnawing feeling that crept inside me as I stared after them.

At home, the gnawing feeling continued to plague me and I couldn’t get the orange vests out of my mind. No matter how much I retaliated, I knew that I desperately needed to belong somewhere. I carefully printed my name and grade on the application, while a bothersome conflict arose inside my mind. My stomach clenched at the thought of doing this but the growing, internal feeling couldn’t be suppressed. I had a compulsion to try something new, yet it was so unnatural for me. In the past two schools, I had achieved the grace of adequately fitting in and not being particularly noticed. This, to me, was the safe way to move forward without any falls. However, I had already failed at that this time so there was nothing left to lose. Daring, for the first time, to take control, I found myself applying for patrol.

It was amazing how easily I could slide into place through patrol. Sure it was a pain waking up earlier to take before-school posts, and it sucked wearing those faded yellow ponchos when it rained. But since all of us did it together, even these nuisances became sort of a privilege. I became closer to everyone than I ever had in any of my schools and my newfound confidence was reflected in the classroom as well. I realized that my diverse background in different schools had given me tremendous versatility and had made me an especially fast learner. When it came to projects, I always found ways to work well even with the quietest kid that I never talked to or the class clown from the back of the room. Since I quickly picked up on the teacher’s expectations, schoolwork was never a problem and everything else fell into place as well. I eventually became the patrol captain and student council representative, finally achieving the sense of belonging that I so direly needed.

But this contentment was short-lived, for I was once again uprooted from what I had believed to be a perfect environment. My dad had gotten a stable job as an insurance agent, situating us back to Seattle the following year. For the first time, I had something tangible to lose. I had to move away from the countless friends and valuable experiences that I had in Puyallup. But this time I wasn’t burdened with the fear of facing something new because I had acquired a valuable skill. I discovered the grace of adaptability and with my newfound confidence, I vowed to always walk forward and never be the one waiting in the rain anymore. 

1. A rant is a speech or response that goes on and on about something that concerns the writer. It usually has an angry or satiric tone and is noisy and long. The baseball example works because he rants about how it is ridiculous that Derek Jeter gets so much more praise over another player who should probably get as much or more praise.

2. It says how people publish sloppy writing on the internet, and the piece just dies off there. It’s getting harder for people to respond to each other or put up any good writing anymore. The internet is way too efficient, bombarding us with so much information that it’s becoming impossible to keep up with anything.

3. This essay uses a lot of examples from history and does a good job of relating it back to the current life. It proves its point through both good argument and solid evidence.

4. A Ranter preacher, Abiezer Coppe, once swore for an entire hour while standing at the pulpit. Richard Baxter, a Puritan divine, recounted with horror the power that such “hideous words of Blasphemy” could have: “[A] Matron of great Note for Godliness and Sobriety, being perverted by them, turned so shameless a Whore, that she was Carted in the streets of London.” The author presents various examples to prove his point.

5. A rant isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes it is the best way to prove a point or get someone’s opinions brought through. People just need to maintain some level of respect when writing rants.

Since happiness is such a relative term, the level of happiness at anytime can be measured differently by everyone. To me, happiness is the lack of misery or even just when I have the capability to fight an obstacle. I am happy whenever I am with the people I love, doing the things I love, which is usually just spending time with them without any worries. I recall the time when I went to Korea with my friends during a summer. This period of time was very happy for me because I didn’t have to worry about school or anything outside of what was happening between us. It was carefree and a great way to relax after a good year of school.

The hook could have been better. I like how she delves right into her story but the way she does it isn’t very interesting or smooth. Her grandmother’s story seems irrelevant because of the way she portrays it. She says, “She was working in a real estate office in Palm Beach. Times were flush and sales were booming.” Instead of setting a tone and showing this aspect, she just says it without much elaboration. It makes me uninterested in what she has to say because I don’t know anything about her grandmother. Her details seem relatively limited as well. “I became fascinated by the role that stories play during hard times…”. She doesn’t describe how fascinated she was and her writing generally tells, rather than showing. However, I really liked the segment in which she actually uses people’s quotes from the books. These examples and quotes allow the reader to connect with the piece and understand it better. Her conclusion leaves a clear message but it doesn’t tie everything well enough. Overall, she clearly communicates a message but it isn’t very engaging and I found myself trying very hard to get through the piece.

1. The ripping howl rang through my ears as I shuddered at the sight of the forceful storm ravaging through the silent fields.

2. As the teacher’s monotonous voice droned on, the lifeless students gaped out the windows or stared down into the inconspicuous pattern of the carpet. The heavy snore of a classmate periodically stirred the otherwise deathly drab 90 minutes.

3. My head stuck to my car’s headrest as I hurtled down my favorite hill. Blood rushed through my body as my speedometer shot up to 90. “This is it!” My foot began to come down on the brakes when I heard the ripping scream of something other than my brakes. Then I stuck my head out to see the ghastly visage of a pained clown, mangled on my front bumper.

1. Rittenberg hooks the reader with his intro. The immediate pessimistic tone of his dad is unexpected and makes the reader want to keep reading. I wanted to find out why the dad was so negative and what Rittenberg had to say about it. 

2. Rittenberg describes specific events that occurred during his grandfather’s and great-grandfather’s times. He mentions the two world wars, the killer flu, segregation, and the nuclear bombing. He uses these examples to emphasize how there were more horrific things that have happened in the past.

3. He also uses contrasting specifics like the end of the world wars, the polio vaccine, and the passage of the civil rights laws to show how things have gotten better. He knows that as time goes, the world will continue to improve and heal itself.

4. Rittenberg uses a simple, direct title to show his hopefulness about the future. He uses it to reemphasizes the optimistic point that he elaborates in his essay.

I thought Susan’s essay was very well-written. She effectively expresses her beliefs about sticking to analog amidst the rush of the digital age. She’s not afraid to be different and she supports her ideas well with very specific examples and imagery. I can immediately picture the ticking clock and the smell and taste of her country surroundings. She captivates the reader by showing what she wants to say, rather than just directly saying it. She takes the reader through the change that she experienced through very descriptive and personal writing. Her style is almost like poetry and the words just flow together, “I love the hiss and pop of vinyl, and the black splotch in the corner when a movie changes reels. I enjoy the hushed, uneven ticking of a windup watch. I love handwriting.” I also love the way she uses unconventional comparisons and metaphors to express herself. She compares the digital revolution to an irrational number and ultimately her imperfect soul to the workings of analog. This is a very novel idea and I admire how she portrayed it so well through her carefully planned writing.