  “Dear God,” she prayed, “let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry… have too much to eat... Only let me be something every blessed minute.
And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.” “Sometimes I think it’s better to suffer bitter unhappiness and to fight and to scream out, and even to suffer that terrible pain, than just to be… safe.” -A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith --------------------------------------- I feel like I owe it to Adrienne to read The Autobiography of Malcom X. She gave me a copy to borrow, enthusiastically singing its praises. And so far, I am having a hard time dealing with the subject matter.
I feel like a dumb white girl who understands nothing of the African-American plight. Salvery is a savage, primitive act that cannibals adopted thousands of years ago. And for some reason, some disgusting reason, humankind continued on with the immoral tradition for thousands of more years. It makes me sick to read about the total disregard for human life. The worst part is, I can’t even begin to grasp the concept of it all.
I feel like Ben Folds; “ Y’all don’t know what it’s like/ being male, middle-class and white ”. Two out of three, at least. (I do, however, know about female discrimination, because that’s the sort of conservative, head-up-ass, fundamentalist-Christian atmosphere Spokane gives off. ) But the fact remains that I am the white bread of American culture. I live in a small town, my parents are religious. I’m not Paris Hilton, but I won’t have to pay for college either. I’m average, pitifully German-Irish. I feel like one of those Bedouin tribes, a girl without a homeland or heritage. --------------------------------------- Melissa, on religion; “ I have a great relationship with God.
I totally feel like I can smoke with him, or do pot with him, and we totally love each other .” --------------------------------------- Lizzy is dating Senior. That ship has sailed, I guess, the silly, disillusioned “ I’m totally crushing !” ship. He listens to rap, anyhow. But the thing about Liz, and Stacey, and Sarah, and dozens of other girls I know is this; they feel having a boyfriend gives them status .
Moreover, they feel that having a boyfriend makes them important, worthy, or somehow better than when they’re boyfriendless. And it makes me mad that this sentiment is so present in our culture today. These girls, with their dramatic eyeliner and low self-esteem, date without standards… at all . What is truly sad is that the boys in their unwavering stream of unromantic relations, fully realize their power over the girls.
It’s this sort of male-dominated tradition, girls swooning for whoever takes the time to look at her ( her ! ), that hinders equality between genders. Liz has literally said to me, “ I can’t understand why Senior likes me! I’m just a sophomore with braces! ” No, she isn’t. Liz is gorgeous, motivated, well-mannered and kind. I don’t understand why she needs a boy to complete her. Particularly when this is high school, and her affair with Senior likely will not end in anything long-term.
I suppose I’m a bit jaded. I just see high school relationships as so doomed to fail that they hardly seem worth it. Yes, there is quite a lot to say about being held in someone’s arms or stealing kisses or just holding hands. There is a quiet romance to being so young and trying to fall in love. Poets try to capture this feeling, looking everywhere for that illusive Something that is going to make you alive and whole. It’s entirely commendable to want to have love. We should all be so lucky. I just think that you shouldn’t cheapen your body or your heart in order to find it. (That is dangerously close to sounding Jesus-y, right? ) Affectionately… Anna 
