My Almost Personal Philosophy

To me, a personal philosophy is something a person lives by and bases all their decisions upon. Its what defines them and the way they see the world around them. After thinking long and hard, I have come to the conclusion that I don’t have a personal philosophy. At 17 years old I am still learning about myself, maturing and realizing my dreams. I am not ready to have a set in stone personal philosophy. I’m still shopping around, perusing the produce, not quite ready to check out. But that doesn’t mean the shelves are empty. As a matter of fact, there is an abundance of possibilities for me to consider.

I see passionate people everywhere I look. From the artist selling his sculptures at the local farmers market, to the teacher standing affront her classroom teaching grammar and cracking jokes with her students. These people got me thinking. So much so that I have found myself a personal philosophy possibility worthy of the name possibility number one. Its simple: do something because you want to, not because you have to. There are a million things in this world that we as people have to do. Breathing, for one, but also the more tiresome musts like earning a living and taking out the trash every Monday morning. These things have to be done, so why not do them happily? Why not do them passionately? It just seems like such a waste to me go through life dragging my feet. I’d rather be skipping and twirling!

When was the last time I did something for purely unselfish reasons? I could say tonight when I offered to help my mom cook dinner, but to be truthful; I was mostly in it for the taste testing. This makes me wonder: Do people ever do anything truly selfless? I think it’s about to time I start, leading me to philosophy possibility number two: help others to help others, not to benefit from it. I think in today’s “cut throat” society where everyone’s competing against each other for jobs and possible mates and practically everything else, people forget about empathy. And unfortunately, I have to say the same about myself. I don’t like having to admit that either. This may sound silly, but I want to channel my inner Mother Teresa. I want to try and be selfless, and empathetic, and just a really great friend.

Everyone knows one person in their life who intentionally makes other people feel bad about themselves. They can be a girl or a boy, spotted or stripped, rotund or irregular, but no matter what fancy words you use to describe them, they are a bully. They purposely make a person feel ashamed about them self and have no qualms about it. They hurt others because to them its either a) its fun, b) it makes them feel better or c) both. Either way, I don’t ever want to be that person. I don’t want to be that bully who attacks the innocent (and the not so innocent) just because I can. Which is precisely why I am making that my third and last personal philosophy possibility to consider. There are so many uncontrollable factors in this world that can dampen a person’s day, I refuse to be one of them.

I have thought long and hard over the course of this essay, but am still nowhere near settling on my personal philosophy. I am getting closer but l still can’t decide. For now though, I am happy just having an abundance of ideas and possibilities. They are kind of like my almost personal philosophy and that’s enough if you ask me.

Something to Share.

I recently read The Story of an Hour by Kate Chopin for my online Introduction to Literature class. Although it was only about 2 pages long, I found it to be an AMAZING story. The main character is Mrs. Mallard. She has just recieved, via a loyal friend to her husband, the news that he was killed in an explosion along the train tracks he worked. While everyone else assumed she locked herself in her room because of her heart wrenching despair, the exact opposite was happening. Instead of her world collapsing, she felt reborn. For she was now a woman living for herself and not the needs of her husband. I hate to give away the ending, but this short story had quite the twist! i highly suggest it to any and every girl who has ever felt claustrophobic in a relationship. The following is why! :)

Written during the late 1800s, I think this story describes a feeling that many women harbored, but few would admit to. During that time, it was believed that a woman's life revolved solely around her husband. It was her life's purpose to make sure that he was happy and well fed and cared for. From the age a woman reached "adulthood" she was immediately supposed to find a husband and start a family. There were no other options for her. So of course some women resented their husbands. How could they not?

As a very independent young woman I can relate to Mrs. Mallard and other women of her time. With no independence of their own they ached for freedom. They ached to go out and garden because they wanted to, not because it was super time and tomatoes were needed. They longed to read a book on a quiet sunday instead of spending hours doing the house's laundry. All they wanted was some "me" time and they were deprived of that. I can't even imagine myself in their position; I like having my own hobbies and I love the fact that I can accomplish anything I put my mind to. Sure, a part of them did it for love, but another part of them had no other choice.

That being said, I think Mrs. Mallard was right to embrace her new found freedom, new found strength. She had been living for another and now it was time that she live for herself. The quote, "Her fancy was running riot along those days ahead of her. Spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. It was only yesterday that she had thought with a shudder that life might be long," (40-41) describes Mrs. Mallard's new life perfectly. She was at a crossroads in her life, and she was choosing the brightest path.

I got my scuba gear! Do you?

As we get older more and more we are asked to think deeper and dream bigger. I am all for the dreaming bigger, but this week the thinking deeper has got me stumped. Its not because the questions are too hard or the words are too large, its because I, Katie Brown, have found myself with a sinus infection the second week of school! (I have a talent for acquiring bad luck, truly.) So when posed with questions regarding the deeper meaning of a story (and over life in general) instead of being able to use a surging supply of brain power like usual, I am left with a sputtering stream of "Sayyy whattt?". Whats a girl to do?!

First I think its necessary to determine what thinking deeper really is and what it involves. By definition critical thinking is: "An essential tool of inquiry; purposeful, self-regulatory judgment that results in interpretation, analysis, evaluation, and inference, as well as explanation of the evidential, conceptual, methodological, criteriological, or contextual considerations upon which that judgment is based." (www.netnet.org/students/student%20glossary.htm) In simpler terms, I think to critical think is to look beyond the facts and given information to delve deeper into the essay or topic at hand. Like a scuba diver in the coral reef searching for a new coral species, critical thinkers are diving deeper to gain something from the story that others may not. As a "story scuba diver" its my job to find the less obvious meaning of the story. And if I am able to build a connection, even better!


Scuba gear on and oxygen pumping, I dive into this week's essay. Titled Beauty When the other Dancer is the Self, by Alice Walker, this narrative essay is based on Walker's life. Specifically, how her life changed after "the accident". While the bulk of the story revolves around Walker coming to term with the loss of sight and visible scaring in one of her eyes, there is so much more that she hints at but doesn't necessarily tell us readers. Through out her essay she hints at the racism she faced growing up and at the bond she had with her mother, but I believe that the main underlying theme of this essay is anger. Not fury, just anger. The type of anger you feel when someone steals your favorite bicycle or beloved dog. And despite her never saying so, Alice was angry.

Calling the day of her injury "the accident" is hint number one. By putting "the accident" into quote marks she is implying that it wasn't really an accident to begin with. Her brothers probably weren't aiming specifically for her eye, but more then likely they were aiming for her. I also get a sense that Alice's brothers never really apologized to her for all the harm they caused. In her essay she says, "So what, if my brothers grew up to buy even more powerful pellet guns for their sons and to carry real guns themselves," with a tinge of resentment. Not only did they steal her her ability to see the world out of both eyes, but they also stole the confident way in which she saw herself. Their irresponsible actions changed her life yet they still didn't seem to learn their lesson.

I also think that Alice was upset with her family for not realizing how much anguish "the accident" caused her. She was tormented by both her peers and by herself and not a single person in her family reached out to help her. Instead of showing Alice the beauty of her eye, they swept it under the rug and left her to be tormented by her peers. As if that wasn't enough they sent her away to live with her grandmother in her old town. Can you doubt her for feeling the way she did? If only they knew the extent of her pain... "That night, as I do almost every night, I abuse my eye. I rant and rave at it, in front of the mirror. I plead with it to clear up before morning. I tell it I hate and despise it. I do not pray for sight. I pray for beauty," If or when her family members read this, I wonder if they felt any guilt or remorse? I would have. I do now even.

New year, New Mentality.

I have always been a fan of the first day of school! As a munchkin piling out of my mom's car, I always was full of butterflies and bursting with excitment! Armed with my sparkly backpacks and "First Day of School" outfit, I was fearless! Heck yes I was going to pass my colors quiz! You bet I was going to remember all of my vocabulary words! On the first day I was unstoppable!

Roughly 12 years later, I still get that same excited feeling! Especially on my Last First Day of high school. But this year, everything is different. Its a whole new ballgame ladies and gentlemen. The fact that this is my very last year of high school means I have to make every moment count. Whether its remembering the laughs I shared with my lunch table or cherishing the times spent in my royal blue cheer uniform, this is a year of lasts and I don't want to take for granted any of it.

Senior year isn't easy though. As seniors, my 57 classmates and I have lots of decisions to make. Were looking at colleges and contemplating majors and trying to figure out how to curb our ever growing senioritis. Instead of talking about that football hunk named Johnny, were now discussing what were going to do with our lives come may. Reality has set in and we now have to push past our fears and think hard about the future.

Back during those early first days, everybody always asked me "What do you want to be when you grow up?" and I always answered "Britney Spears, duhhhh!". Now when people ask that exact same question, I always answer with a smile and say "I want to major in communications!" I feel like thats a good enough answer for now. :)