Zelzah: A Tale From Long Ago

Ashley Esteva

GSR 102

Zelzah: A Tale from Long Ago

            I have read books by Norma Fox Mazer before and I really enjoyed her work. When I began reading this short story I had the mindset that it would mirror another one of her works entitled Good Night, Maman. However, to my surprise it was greatly different. It was a remarkable story of courage, strength and happiness. I absolutely loved this story as a celebration of one woman’s story of her life. It was a beautifully crafted story about a family living in a small town in Poland. The family had five daughters and each had a name given to them by their mother which she though would help them throughout their lives, influencing their destiny. The story focuses on the second born daughter, Zelzah. She always tried to live up the name her mother gave her which roughly meant shade-in-the-heat. She tried to be calming and nice but she didn’t always know what to say. Throughout her life she had to work hard to help support her family. She worked on a farm and became strong through her work which she took pride in. when a letter came from her aunt in America; her mother told her that she would be moving to America to marry her cousin Jake. I was so excited for her to get a new life that would hopefully be easier on her that working such hours on a farm. For a while when I was reading the story I had high hopes. I saw Zelzah becoming stronger but as soon as I read that Jake wasn’t coming to visit her much anymore I knew it was bad news. I was heartbroken for Zelzah when I found out Jake had been having an affair and his “lady” was pregers. I was so upset! I had this whole idea of the life she would have with him, I had planed the happy ending for her and everything. I couldn’t believe she handled everything so well and with such a level head, I know I wouldn’t have acted as she did. Throughout the story from that point foreword she really grew into herself. She found work and got and education then got a better job with that education. I was even more proud of her when she became a teacher. She lived her dreams and aspirations and always remained calm and definitely defined happiness on her own terms and saw nothing less in herself because she didn’t fallow the conventional life plan for a woman.

Thank you for reading all of these blogs; this is my last one post.   

The Setting Sun and the Rolling World

Ashley Esteva

GSR 102

The Setting Sun and the Rolling World

            This was my least favorite story so far, I think I have read it many years ago and I don’t think I liked it then. I do not believe forsaking the past is a good thing to do. The past is what ties us to out family, our community, our country and our ancestors. When a person forsakes their past they can not succeed in the future, for if you do not know where you come from and do not understand where you come from there is no way to know where you are going. Nhamo had no respect for his past and his only concern was to leave and find better things outside his community. This is not to say that wanting better for oneself or wanting to better oneself is bad. I am saying that the manner in which Nhamo left was not good. All he wanted to do was leave and have more than his father. He wanted to leave all of the physical and mental ties of his previous life behind. He did not want to take his culture or identity with him into his new life. I just can’t justify a person dismissing their culture and their previous life in attempts to make a better life. It doesn't seem right or healthy to forget. Forgetting about all you have grown up with and has been passed on to you is not beneficial to anyone and I still maintain that you can not know where you are going if you do not know where you came from. Nhamo can not succeed if he throws away all he had before he left. He needs both his old and new life to be successful in his life, no matter where he goes.

Dawn

Ashley Esteva

GSR 102

DAWN

I am going to start something, kind of life/ perspective changing for me. I am going to do my blogs but I am going to write them as I see fit. So, please, read on and make your own opinion on my views and thoughts.

This reminds me of so many things throughout the story

• The 90’s
• Myself between Barnsey and Dawn
• Music
• Letting go
• Travel and exploration
• Pre conceived ideas

I think the story was based in the 1990’s. That time period was my childhood. I still think and will forever advocate that the 90’s were the best decade ever! The cassette tapes were the big thing back then and there is so much nostalgia attached to that little piece of plastic. The mix tape was the quintessential object of that time. Also the awesome scene of the time was British punk rock. Admittedly I was a little young for this movement of sorts but in my later years I somehow have gotten back to this craziness.

I think this is sort of where the story begins to remind me, well it reminds me of myself. Barnsey was who I was, I was a meek person who didn’t really go out of my comfort zone very often and I went along with the status quo. I did not want to make a scene. I think that is what Barnsey does all his life and even when he meets Dawn he is still reserved and is very conscious of how other people may view him. he is very cautious about what he says or does or who he hangs out with and then when he begins to talk with dawn he is exposed to new ideas and a different perspective. Dawn is who I have wanted to emulate, I know it seems outlandish but I was that kid in school, the one who was just a little TOO different and I saw it as Barnsey did, I saw it as being a problem. Until recently I began thinking that maybe it isn’t to late to try and be whoever I want to be. I want to fulfill something in my life that I will do it. I think Dawn realized long ago that there is so much out there to see and do and that she cant live how everyone else is living if it does not agree with her soul. She needs to live for herself because she is all she has for the rest of her life. It take great courage and self-strength to be able to be who you truly are on the inside and it seems to me that Dawn was capable of releasing her true self and letting it show on the outside.

The music was very telling for me. when my soul is angry or frantic or happy my music matches with what I listen to. Barnsey was so calm and reserved on the outside that all of his emotions were bottled within him and the only way to express those feeling was through his music. Dawn’s music reflected her as well, she was so outwardly expressive that her heart was calm, she was relatively at peace with herself and was able to focus on thought instead of rage when she listened to her music. Music is the one thing that tells the world more about us than any amount of words we could ever come up with ourselves.

T.B.C…maybe

Crash (2004)

Ashley Esteva

GSR 102

CRASH (2004)

Response to 4 questions

3. Different stereotypes that were found in the movie include: white people being paranoid about minorities wanting what they have, blacks being criminals and thieves, Middle Eastern people being stupid and stubborn, and Hispanics as being thieves and job stealers. I have heard all of these before and I believe that stereo types have not been arbitrarily constructed. Some stereotypes have some validity however I do not think that stereotypes should be used. It is just another way to put people into sub groups and to distance ourselves form other people that we may not wish to come in contact with and by putting others in imaginary boxes it makes it easier for people to deal with other peoples differences.

5. I believe Officer John Ryan needed to risk his life to save Mrs. Thayer because he felt that he needed to redeem himself and correct his misdeeds against Mrs. Thayer. He knows that he was wrong in treating her the way he did previously and this encounter with her trapped in the car may be his last chance to mend his errors. For his conscious, he needs to correct himself otherwise he will have the memory of violating this woman and the letting her burn to death. In his mind he can not betray her twice. He has no other option in his mind than to save her as his way of apologizing to her.

7. I do not believe that citizens should be able to purchase gun. I strongly believe that guns should be ban and that police and law enforcement should have to find alternate ways of subduing people and offenders. I do not think they are for safety I believe the need for guns comes out of peoples paranoia that everyone wants to hurt them and take all of their possessions from them. I am quite aware though that criminals do not fallow laws and would most likely still carry guns however I think that the gun laws and personal possession of guns should be heavily monitored. I do no see the need for these machines of murder and I know there are other ways that could be used.

10. I think ethnicity is something people should have some pride in, I think cultural heritage shapes everyone. Think it is wonderful to be able to learn form other peoples cultural experiences and point of view. I would rather someone ask me what ethnicity I am instead of assuming I belong to a certain group. When someone assumes I am white they automatically disregard any of my history as well as my cultural history. I think having my cultural history is an incredible insult to me and my family. I would rather someone ask me where I come from I want to be able to have the opportunity to explain where I am from and where my family is from and help give the other person a new perspective on what people from that region or country are like, to challenge the experience or expectations they have had with that culture or ethnicity. I think that it is important to know where other people come from and where I come from, I think it brings a beautiful mix of cultures, foods, traditions and perspectives together to share and learn form.

Bad Influence

Ashley Esteva

GSR 102

Bad Influence

This story made me laugh so hard, and not because it was humorous or had jokes, no not at all. I laughed so hard because this is so similar to my family. I come from a big Cuban family. The live in New Jersey and so much of this story holds true. A few years ago I stayed with my grandmother for two weeks. I got to know her better just like Rita got to know her grand parents. My grandmother made huge meals and so much café con leche I though I was going to burst. It was such a great trip, I was apprehensive in the beginning of my trip, as was Rita, being thrown into a whole new culture and using a language that I was not so strong in. I remember watching telénovas that had such outrageous plots that they could not possibly be true but they still captivated my attention none the less. Every day was an adventure for Rita getting to know her grandparents a little more and understanding how they came to be where they are now. I think it is beautiful how Rita’s grandmother shares a secret about her past dreams of becoming a dancer but not being able to accomplish those dreams because she married and had children early in life. I have been told this many times by my own grandmother that education comes first and that I need to put myself first, I need to explore my world before I settle down, I need to live out my dreams before I have to start living with someone else’s dreams. I really see the beauty in Rita’s grandmother’s words as well as with my own grandmother’s words. I feel so happy that I have her and that I have had all the wonderful experiences with her. I know how Rita feels with being sent to stay there and at the end there is no doubt in her mind that she had made the right choice, I know I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to spend with my family. So much of this story reminds me of my family and I love having those memories recalled.

The Circuit

Ashley Esteva

GSR 102

The Circuit

I love this story for so many different reasons. I feel so connected to this story and love every sentence of it. See you may need to know that I love history and throughout college I have taken as many history courses as possible. So last semester I had my History Since 1889 and my very peculiar teacher was very adamant about the class learning about the great depression and the dust bowl which had affected her parents. The story reminded me of the Grapes Of Wrath when the family is migrating from one work camp to another with hopes of finding, but never knowing if there really is any work left by the time they get there. This migrating family of the short story has to migrate to find work and support their family. They are striving to make the generations better. Although the father is unable to send his oldest son to school he is making a great effort to send his second son to school to earn an education. On another level I connect with the second son, Panchito, he went to school late and was not quite ready for his classes because he was starting school so late. Growing up I was always moving to different places and I remember in first grade I ended up attending three different schools that year and I missed picture day in all three schools. I didn’t really fit in anywhere because by the time I had gotten to a school the group dynamics of the class had already been set. For Panchito his best friend was his caring teacher who helped him improve his reading and exposed him to the hopes of learning to play the trumpet. I think it was wonderful how Mr. Lima helped Panchito. He really cared for him and was very sensitive to the young boy’s situation and circumstances. What really stuck with me was after such an amazing school experience and such a zeal for learning he was reminded of just how unstable his home life was when he found that all of his family’s positions were packed up, this has happened to me countless times and the feeling of your hear dropping never fades, it is always there at the worst times. Once I read the last line, I read the line again and again and again, and each time my heart dropped and I knew exactly how Panchito felt at that exact moment.

Rules of the Game

Ashley Esteva

GSR102

Rules of the Game

            I think this is a very relatable story for children who grew up in immigrant or multicultural homes. When Amy Tan describes this story she shows how she grew up and how her life was. Her mother tried to bestow upon her the knowledge she needed and the social skills that would help her through out her life as well as the discipline she would need to keep herself focused. I think it is very poignant to that she explained that she never knew she was poor. I feel many young children do not understand if they are poor or not. When one is so young we sometimes assume everyone else lives like this. Growing up I moved around a lot because my father was in the navy and we did not always live in the best neighborhood or have adequate housing. However, I never understood why I only got hand-me-down clothing and never new clothes. I never understood why my mom was always so cautious about what she made and how much of it she made. Not to say that I ever went hungry, that is not true, but I did not always have a snack when I got home or some times for dinner we would have soup or rice or pasta for a week or two straight. Just like the character Waverly Jong she did not understand her circumstances until she was much older. I really was surprised to see how much Waverly became enthralled in the game of chess. Her brothers got the set as a Christmas present from a local church. She immediately became so absorbed in it and wanted to learn all of the ins and outs of the game so well that she could beat anyone. She kept her focus strong and was a gracious victor. However I start to notice how she starts to loose her temper with her mother. Her mother starts to hover and tries to have her “loose” less chess pieces during her matches. I think Waverly is trying to get out of her family’s shadow more specifically her mothers shadow. I was quite surprised though when Waverly snapped at her mother telling her basically to stop bragging about her because it was embarrassing her. It’s sometimes hard to tell a parent that their actions in regards to you make you uncomfortable. Sometimes it unintentionally hurts their feeling and then once it is said you have to recoil and try to figure out how to recover from the mistakes you have made. At the end of the story that’s what Waverly finds herself needing to do, recover from her actions.

A Gift of Laughter

Ashley Esteva

GSR 102

A Gift of Laughter

I really cherish this story. It is a beautiful story of how a father realizes that some things are more important than money. I believe that it was a good that he had the tools to effectively talk with his son. I was very happy that the father realized his mistakes he had committed. Let me rephrase, I am getting more involves in the stories we are reading for class and I am falling in love with each story in a different way. I see myself writing in each blog post that “I love this story the most” after each new post. I find it comical that I am saying this because with each new story I am taking the story and putting it into my soul. I am connecting with it and valuing it for what it is as a piece of work and creation as well as the meaning of the story being able to connect with my life and my story. I really love this story. Father and mother are arguing about finances. Son comes down and tries to show his father a drawing he is proud of and the father pays him no mind. The miraculous part is that after the father dismisses the son and the young boy goes to his room crying the father is stopped dead in his path and has a flashback revelation. He remembers when he was a kid and throughout his flashback he remembers how his grandmother reacted when he got her a football instead of a fruit bowl. I though the mix-up was hilarious, I do that with my grand mother quite often because of her thick Spanish accent. I love my grandmother without question but just like the father remembering his childhood, I have mistaken what she is saying many times. I love the father’s change of heart and his willingness to admit he was wrong and to try to mend his mistake with his son. It was beautiful how he accepted his sons anger and hurt and instead of just telling him he was sorry he offered to make it up to him by showing his son that he valued his son’s artwork of him and that he valued his son as a wonderful little person. I am very proud of the father for realizing his mistakes and doing the right thing and talking with his son to show the child that he really did care and that he was truly sorry for his actions.

The Dancer

Ashley Esteva

GSR 102

I absolutely love this short story. It is beautifully told with a kind of relatable quality that reminds me on my Abuela telling me stories. This is one of my favorite. It has a sort of indescribable feeling of warmth and enveloping love and tradition to it. I admire the narrator telling the story because it was done with innocence and honesty. This woman has opened up her home to in need children and is graciously trying to help others in her community. She takes in Clarissa even though she knows the little girl has had a rough past. She allows the small one to talk about her feelings when she is scared or when she feels the need to but the woman never forces her to talk about what she is feeling. I really admire the woman for having such an open heart for this child. After all she has no investment in the child and if she wanted to she could have her removed form her from for trying to kill the cat or not being a cohesive member of her family.  The woman tries to get Clarissa to be part of the family and feel comfortable interacting with the other members of the family.

Innocently enough the woman, in the effort to try and help Clarissa feel more like a member of the family, brings her to a powwow and the change in the little girl is so startling.  It was magical to see how much the little girl loved and felt so connected to the music and was able to grow as a person through learning to dance and feel the spirit when she danced.

I think it was beautiful how she told the story and how the young girl’s life was so beautifully transformed when she danced. When she watched her elders dance she absorbed all of the information and heritage and tradition.

I was completely blown away however when, near the end of the story, the young girl begins dancing and embraces the spirit and dances with Molly she is transformed into a beautiful elegant dancer far beyond her years. Through her heritage she is able to escape her troubled past and is able to become so much more through her dancing. She is able to be her true self and fit into the self she should have always been.

Page Three and Saturday at the Canal

        Page three has a very short poem however within those few lines the author was really able to convey so much information so many feelings and emotions. I really think it is remarkable that such few words that I was able to connect with the piece so much. I think this peace more than all the others I connect with the most. I think it’s about someone who finally gets to start a life on their own. They don’t have to worry about cleaning up after other people or even have to think about another person. It is there time to make their house into a home. The line “Not a man’s house. Not a daddy’s” is very prominent. It is the first thing in that persons life that is all their own and they get to shape it into their own home. Get to fill it with pretty purple petunias and books. It is a new beginning for someone. It relates to me going off to college. In my third year of college after receiving my associate’s degree I decided I wanted to come to Gallaudet and dorm. It was a new place for me, new town, new room, and a new experience. I was so excited to have this opportunity to show people and myself that I can take care of my self and that I am an independent self-sufficient person. I am proud of the person in the poem for striking out on their own and I am proud of myself for doing the same, starting a new chapter in my life.


         Saturday at the Canal was a much less appealing story that hardly grabbed my attention. Its fussy wording and vague people really was far less attractive that page three. I think it is sill to think that “oh I will be happy when this happens” it is a very silly thing to think. One can not dwell on a hope of an event being so beyond ones imagination because our imagination makes things so much better than they actually are. This boy’s fixation on wanting to visit San Francisco and being enamored by all the sights and sounds and birds and experiences associated with the city is quite silly. He should be happy with what he has now and shoot a casual glance towards the idea of visiting San Fran however I really think it is unwise for him to base his happiness on going to the city.

            Saturday at the Canal was a much less appealing story that hardly grabbed my attention. Its fussy wording and vague people really was far less attractive that page three. I think it is sill to think that “oh I will be happy when this happens” it is a very silly thing to think. One can not dwell on a hope of an event being so beyond ones imagination because our imagination makes things so much better than they actually are. This boy’s fixation on wanting to visit San Francisco and being enamored by all the sights and sounds and birds and experiences associated with the city is quite silly. He should be happy with what he has now and shoot a casual glance towards the idea of visiting San Fran however I really think it is unwise for him to base his happiness on going to the city.

Reading Your Room

Ashley Esteva

GSR 102

Reading Your Room

            My experience coming into my dorm for the first time was that it was the same dorm I had stayed at when I came to Gallaudet for a summer ASL camp three years ago. I wasn’t too fond of West when I came there the first time so I had low expectations of the dorm the second time around. As I remembered there was the open staircase and still had no elevator. The staircase is very open and nice however not having an elevator is both a blessing and a curse. I had to lug a fridge, mattress, and all of my other dorm necessities up three flights of stairs. I think it is good though the flights of stairs help keep me in shape and I always make sure I have everything before I leave my dorm because I know when I leave my dorm I'm not going back until my class or errand is done. The floors still look dated with the faux brown brick flooring however they have updated a portion of each floor with faux wood flooring and furniture to make it look appealing as a common room. The old style architecture is nice however the white pebble stone outside is my least favorite feature of the building.

                        When I arrived at my dorm I was so happy that I had a room facing the back of campus, I wasn’t facing the courtyard. That means I don’t have to worry about the lights or other dorm lights. Also my room was quaint. It was freshly painted a sort of taupe color with a bright white ceiling. I noticed the walls had a lot of outlets. Which, I thought in the beginning, was a bit much although now I am glad I have so many outlets. I never really though how many electrical appliances I had brought with me until I had to plug everything in. In my room I recently notices two holes drilled into one of the cinderblocks near my desk, I wonder if it was for mounting something or if it was for and internet cable hook-up. Although my room has just been painted there are still some pieces of the past such as stuck on adhesive and in some places there is a bit of the old paint color showing. The thing in my room that shows the most evidence of past inhabitants however is something that is not likely to be replaced anytime soon. My heater/ac unit, it’s an off yellow, horrible looking rectangle that traverses almost my entire window. It has old pieces of tape stuck to it and old grey paint showing through the chipped baby puke yellow that is on top. If you look into the heater there is shards of zebra printed I-don’t-know-what stuck in it along with waded up gum wrappers and I even found a penny wedged behind the thermostat control. Although it doesn’t have the best appearances it works well to cool the room, however my roommate and I haven’t figured out how to make it warm yet because the labels on the dials are completely worn off.

                        When I finally finished bringing all of my belongings into my room I began to unpack and slowly but surely I was making this shell of a room my own. I put my clothes in my closet now it sort of looks like my closet at home and my dressers under my bed are reminiscent of those in my room at home. The bedding, pillows and mattress had the same color scheme as my room so everything slowly came together and it feels more or less like my house, it has the essence of my room. I think the only thing that made my move here easier than keeping things similar was bringing my music along. I was able to play my favorite CDs while unpacking and I know it sounds silly but the music makes everything feel normal and not so foreign. My music made me feel more at home than almost anything else I brought with me.

                        My room became mine in the ordinary way. My room was assigned to me. It seems very straight forward and simple. My room selection was out of my hands and in no way in the realm of thing I can or could have possible controlled. In the other sense of “my room becoming mine” was me deciding to add familiar colors and textures and patterns. I also began to decorate my walls so far I have one piece of art but hopefully I will expand to have my wall covered in uplifting artwork.

                        I really love my room and my dorm. I believe I have added my personality to my room and I am definitely proud of my work. I wouldn’t mind if my friends came over to my room, it is always tidy and reasonably kept. There is extra seating and sleeping accommodations. However, I don’t believe that the question of my room being inviting or not is really the question or not. I think the deeper question lies within my upbringing and while growing up my parents rarely invited people over so subsequently I fallowed suit. I don’t mind not having people over, though, to me my room is my sanctuary my little piece of quiet and familiar. It belongs to me.

revised blog for "the first day"

The first day of school is peculiar short story. There is so much detail in the beginning of the story about the little girl's clothing, shoes, hair and perfume. However, as the story progressed the details became fewer and fewer. It makes me wonder why all of the information was planted in the beginning instead of being sprinkled throughout the story. The beginning was so important so the reader would have a good understanding and foundation for the rest of the story. The information needed to be at the beginning of the story so that we as readers would be able to see how the mother had such strong religious connections and wanted the best school for her daughter. We need to see that the mother wanted her daughter to have pride and look very nice for the first day. She did not want her daughter to look poor or disheveled. The mother was only looking out for her daughter.

As we go further into the story the numerous amounts of details help the reader connect and understand the struggles of both the mother and the daughter. Although the details of the story turned into vague descriptions forwards the end of the novel the initial information that had been provided helped make it easier for me to overlook the general framework that did not help to enhance the story.

I found it really nice that there was a bit of foresight included in the story for example her shoes which she would scuff later that day. The mother though the story stole my heart, she was trying to give her daughter the best life she could, just like any other parent she wanted a better life for her daughter than she had for herself. The little girl's mother was her biggest advocate and wanted to give her daughter more that what the mother had been provided with during her lifetime.

three handouts- week 2

       The first short story, Learning My Native Language, was a wonderful heartfelt recollection of Ms. Stocker's life and how she coped with her hearing deficiency. She makes her story sound so human and so vulnerable, I really feel for her as she is telling about her childhood and growing up in the hearing world. It breaks my heart when i see that she struggled with such isolation and frustration. when you can quite hear what is going on or are unable to make out the context clues it make interacting within the world you live in so unbelievably difficult and exasperating. i love how she leads us through her pitfalls and successes throughout her life, she makes sure to show her successes and explain how she was able to overcome.  i appreciate her ending her story with her acceptance of her limitations and who she had come to be while learning to ask for help or accommodations that lead her to be able to join in life more fully.

       -Ashley Esteva

       The second story/ poem, The Hands of My Father, the father's life seems to be such a simple one, a life of solidarity and solace however when the child introduces themselves into the story the silence of the father is different than what the child describes the silence being for themselves. the child seems to see themselves as a nuisance to the father because the do not quite understand each other's perspectives. however when the child says that they would go to their father even though he has passed away really shows how much the child really loved the father even though they had their differences, they shared a bond in silence- even though their silences were different.

     -Ashley Esteva

       The third story, Recollections, was unlike the previous two stories and really reflected on the pride that the author had for her Deaf heritage and she so loved ASL and the beauty it brought to her life. her memories were so vivid and unmistakable. it was as if she was telling her life story with the colors and majesty of ASL without actually signing her story. i really enjoy feeling involved with the memories of her elementary school experience all the way through to her time at Gallaudet University. her pride for her native language is unmistakable and so admirable she came to terms with the fact that she loved her native language so much that she would rather live with ASL and in the Deaf community so fully that she didn't want to have speech therapy or marry outside of her culture. it was a refreshing look at someones life.

       -Ashley  Esteva

       The first day of school is peculiar short story with so much detail in the beginning of the story about the little girl's clothing, shoes, hair and perfume. however as the story progressed the details became fewer and fewer. the details of the story turned into vague descriptions that did not help to enhance the story. i found it really nice that there was a bit of foresight included in the story for example her shoes which she would scuff later that day. the mother though stole my heart she was trying to get her daughter the best life she could, just like any other parent she wanted a better life for her daughter than she had for herself. the little girl's mother was her biggest advocate.

~Ashley Esteva