Intimidate...

Over the years I've heard many things about the way people perceive me because of nonverbal cues I projected. Some perceptions I was conscious of, other I had intended to project as was conscious of and others I was just downright unaware of! Haha. For instance, I was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, So at one point in time or another the "Baggy" look was in. I attempted to, much to my mothers dislike, fit in. Some told me I looked nerdy, some said I looked like a tutor or something of the sort. After that phase ended I moved on to the professional "College" look. During that phase I received  much of the same thing along with compliments on how I dressed. :) My drama teacher at the time called me a "dandy" (Metro-sexual) and once I knew what it meant I agreed, I mean, I'm not gay, but I do put concern into how I look. I was a quiet guy as well, I didn't say much. I was shy, an only child so I was somewhat non-social, still am to this day. I didn't show much facial expression, very stoic. Many of my friends tell me that they love to see my smile more but when they first met me they wouldn't of thought I knew how.

As the years went by and I worked on finding a look that worked for me I began receiving more and more of the same perceptions. I looked smart and quiet, some even said I look like I had an inner freak in me, some said I looked cocky and conceited, almost as if I had a God-Complex. I walked very straight and with a purpose, I had long legs standing at about 5'11, so It seemed I always had somewhere to go even, in most cases, I didn't. I was scared of staying anywhere too long because if it was around people I couldn't decipher their facial expressions, is the smile from the cute girl across from me because she thinks I'm cute or because there's a stain on my shirt or there's chocolate milk still caked on my mustache (I was a chocolate milk addict in HS). It was a inward battle of tremendous proportions but one that never broke the surface of my appearance.

It was strange to hear what people thought of me before they met me. Also shocking to know that I intimidating the majority of people I met because of the way I looked. I didn't look threatening, I was medium height and lean, didn't play sports, caught somewhere in between the border of a Drama Dork & Popular Kid because I knew a lot of people and I had dated some very popular people but I maintained my loyalty to the people I called friends, who consequently, weren't part of the popular crowd. My eyes and the way I would stand, almost towering, were many peoples recollection of their intimidating moments. I walk very quietly, though I wear a large shoe size, I've been called elephant feet. *Chuckle* Many people think that i'm well spoken before they speak to me because of the way I carry myself, but some don't think that I'm very friendly, also because of the way I carry myself. I may come off as disinterested or perhaps ignorant of other people but in my mind it's simply I'm too shy to say anything at all. On the AVC campus in the square buy the cafe, I make it a chore not to walk in the middle where everyone can see me unless it just so happens to be the quickest way to wherever I'm going, which it rarely is. People are shocked to know this, because I think the people watching me are criticizing me in their minds, with their eyes and their thoughts and my imagination takes off with a vengeance and it would so happen that my imagination, 9 times our of 10, is wrong, dead wrong.

All in all my nonverbal cues have given arise to a perception I like but one that may not be accurate. It's not painstakingly inaccurate but it would be nice if I didn't come off as intimidating so much, would probably have more friends. I've been told I have deep eyes which is about the one thing I fully agree with for the simple fact that I am very...technical. I think way too much, and I over think frequently and I cam compartmentalize my mental thoughts easily, depending on the thought. I read too much into things so things bother me easily. I'm a victim of shutting up as opposed to speaking up, thus creating many volcanic eruptions in my life towards friends and family because I fail to verbalize things I had issues with. For the most part, my nonverbal cues are useful because I don't think i'd like for everyone to know that I was so critical of myself, or that all these things occur in my head when I seem to be perfectly fine just devoid of emotion. to be honest, I think the devoid of emotion bit looks a lot cooler. :)

Empowerment

(Prompt # 1, Page 555, Speech: Homemade Education, Written from the perspective of someone from the "hood" Malcolm X Grew up in during the 1960's)

Dear editor,
My name is Nathaniel, my friends call me Nate. I read your article about Malcolm. We used to be boys back in the day, he's on to bigger and better things now it seems. He was a real cool cat but now it seems he's even cooler. I mean, where I'm from, we don't have love for people like you, white people, I mean. No disrespect, it's just how we were taught. I got to say though, I listen to Malcolm now, he still comes around every now and again, and what he says strikes something in me, y'know. I really feel what he says sometimes. Then your article came out and I got a chance to understand what happened to him all those years back and it was really cool how he did all those things in jail. I mean, majority of us here been locked up at least once at some point in time and we just come out and make it harder for the cops to catch us next time, that's how we did and what we did because it was survival. Not Malcolm though, that boy came out and made something of himself. He talked and went up there sounding like a real preacher man. We looked up to Malcolm but didn't openly associate ourselves with him because we weren't on the same agenda. He was one of us through and through but he was aiming for the wrong thing in our eyes, so we let that brother go and did our own thing.
I thought many time about writing this to you, thinking that maybe you'd call the cops on a brother for no reason like the rest of yawl do, maybe you wouldn't even wanna read what I got to say. I wrote it though, because I was moved to, i felt something in me when I read Malcolm's story and it made me want more. I wanted more for me and my family. I didn't want to be a statistic y'know, because I don't want to be just another nobody. I want to be smart and good with the tongue so I could pick up a few extra girls haha. seriously though, I want more for myself, personally, because i seen too many people fall in this lifestyle. I see too many fall in the path of justice but the difference between their deaths and my homies death is that they die for something worth dying for. freedom. I ain't never thought freedome was reachable, i ain't never thought I would ever be able to know what freedom, I was used to running everytime a cop pulled up, not because I was doing something bad but just because it was fact that the cops were out for us. I'm tired of living that way though, i want what Malcolm got and what all these other freedom brothers got. I want that kinda faith and that kinda dream, to dream of a better future for everybody y'know. I actually want to be able to like and work with you people...I don't knwow what we gon' work on though haha. I'm taking a class for language trying to follow Malcolm's lead and educate myself. I think i'm doing pretty damn good for a negro, huh? 
I do thank you for publishing that peice about Malcolm. I walk around with a copy of it like i was actually carrying a piece. I thank you for showing me that all you ain't that bad. you put that out there because you knew what it would do...at least thats what i feel. i think you knew somebody like me would pick it up and get pushed into a movement bigger than himself. i thank you for giving me that oppurtunity brother, i mean that. You the first white person I ever called brother, and i mean that. I feel you in this with us and there are more like you and i hope the lord spare my life to meet them. Thanks again homie gotta get to class. Catch ya later cat.

nate

Language & Me (Informal Essay # 1)

(I Didn't have to post it but I felt like it Lol)

 

     Language and Me

 

 I was born in Brooklyn, New York in the winter or 1990. I wouldn’t say I was born in the “Hood” but I was born in an area where some “hood” characteristics were provident. I led a very sheltered life and began writing at a very young age as well. I wasn’t particularly allowed to go to functions outside of school and church functions. Even school functions, if the fell on a Friday afternoon or a Saturday, I wasn’t allowed to go to them because my family was highly religious. Also since I was an only child I began to find company in books, being raised by predominantly women led to me being dragged on shopping trips and etc so books became my escape. It began fantasy and non-fiction at first; I still remember my first book, it was a book called “The Thief Lord”. It was such a joy to read, I read it twice and it started a reading monster in me. I couldn’t stop reading after that, I was a slow reader though and I took pride in that because I liked to wander off after every sentence to try to imagine what was going on and I couldn’t stop.

 

 As I grew older I began to read more complicated things and more things of substance. As I read these things my vocabulary grew with it. As my vocabulary grew I began to write about deeper subjects. I ventured into love and politics and issues facing the black community. I wrote so much poetry that I, somewhat, became poetry. I began speaking poetically without realizing it, most times when I was explaining something to someone. Speaking poetically and using proper grammar and diction meant I would always be called white for speaking proper because it showed in my speech. I would use the proper terms and the proper tense for words. Even when I would attempt talking like the other kids in my class I didn’t get very far without putting in a proper term and I’d get the weirdest looks. I also took pride in my vocabulary because I could express myself very well. I knew the words that meant exactly what I was meaning to say and many people, adults and kids alike, respected and admired that about me. Growing up, smoking cigarettes and weed and drinking alcohol and drugs and gangs were all commonplace. I didn’t participate but something else that was commonplace was the term used in place of women which is “bitch”. I took that name to heart because I was raised by women that I respected and loved so I refrained from calling anyone especially not my mother and grandmother such a name or any other name other than their own. Those circumstances kept that word out my vocabulary and I look at that as a blessing.

 

 As it so happened, my use of language also caused me to be more mature. As I read and learned more about how to use language and the effects of language it caused me to be logical, if that makes sense. I began thinking things through more and I began to be very rationale about almost everything. It also helped me when dealing with people who were my elders. I would talk to them like I was their age but I sill maintained the respect and it was wonderful to be able to talk to adults and understand and be understood clearly when you’re a teenage. I would join in the debates my family would have and I would feel so included and I would feel like a participant rather than an onlooker. Also being that I could talk to adults it helped when it came to meeting the parents of whomever I was dating at the time, I would come off as very mature and very composed for my age, which I think I was.

 

 My family is from Guyana, a Caribbean country in South America, very close to Brazil so we had a variation of English that we spoke. It was once a British colony so we also spelled things the British way such as colour instead of color. We also used substitutes for words, such as slang for those in the U.S., it was our slang back in Guyana, such as “Wam Banna?” which was our substitute for “what’s up, man?” or things of that nature. Instead of saying “What’s up?” we would put together “what’s happening?” and it became “Wam. One of the many lingo’s that Guyana has. Since New York, Brooklyn especially, is a haven to people of the Caribbean such as Trinidad and Barbados; it was commonplace for you to hear the occasional “wam” or “rass”. It was a struggle for me to balance my Guyanese roots and the roots of the “Hood Speech” and also the proper speech which is what would take me further but as I grew it became easier to manage. I would use either one when the environment permitted, for example, if I was around family I would speak with a Guyanese accent and if I was with my fellow classmates or somewhere with a professional environment I would speak proper.

 

 Now that I’m in college, I’ve been taking speech classes to add to my language. Teachers have told me that I am very articulate and I have the voice for public speaking. It feels good to find an area that I enjoy doing and get good grades for doing it. If a linguist were to listen I assume he would learn or gather that I take language very seriously. Although I do have some fundamental areas in English that I must work on, I do indeed, take language very seriously. As a quote my teacher for communications 101 said, “The language we create, in turn, creates us”. As I grow in age and in knowledge I begin to understand what that really means and in time, I’m sure I could define to anyone who asks.

I Don't Know How...

  The language we create, in turn, creates us. A very heavy sentence; a very heavy concept. Not many think that maybe we are limited to the words we use and how we use them. There's so many gateways that can and have been opened by language--but just imagine if you couldn't tap into that Language.

Illiteracy is a boundary of understanding and knowledge. In this lies the option of "Won't" & "Can't". Some won't understand out of laziness, some won't explain and some won't try to explain. The issue with illiteracy is the lack of the basis to do what someone won't, in short, the ability to do it in the first place.

Illiteracy takes the role of can't and at times, it is a very frustrating can't. What if you couldn't explain or argue a point even though you knew you were right you couldn't explain why. What if you were interested in music but couldn't, for the life of you, understand something as simple as a music scale? What if...you couldn't tell the love of your life just how much you love them? 


It is almost humbling to be able to possess the ability to use language like I do. Not being able to read and write is an almost scary thought. Reading opens up so many doors and it provides an escape from the outside world, it offers an opportunity to experience. If I wasn't able to read and write I wouldn't be as poetic as I am. Poetry is a passion for me, writing lyrics and composing music is a passion and attempting to imagine a life where I wouldn't understand poetry much less major in it is...scary. 


More than just enjoyment, writing is expression. Reading & Listening to people's form of expression is amazing, whether it's through written, instrumental or oral. As a student the ability to read and write are invaluable. Trying to learn without using the core arts of reading and writing is a very difficult task. 


Illiteracy is a very important thing because it hinders those who wish to learn from learning. An example that the text uses is that of an illiterate young parent, being a parent alone is a tremendous struggle. compiled with illiteracy makes it that much harder. Trying to get your children to do certain things not knowing how exactly to say what you want them to do or not being able to explain the benefits. 


Another scenario is being in  a relationship with someone. In relationships with friends and family and in particular intimate relationships, depend highly upon communication. Maintaining a healthy relationship and not knowing how to communicate is highly challenging if next to impossible. 


Illiteracy is a hindrance but with the proper guidance can be naught but an obstacle waiting to be overcome. Like in the case of Helen Keller, who grew up blind and deaf, one can overcome the sentence that is illiteracy. The important thing is not to take it as a death sentence. Hope and faith is always essential to  victory.

What does critical thinking mean to me.

Critical thinking.


When I think of critical thinking, I think of analysis and I think of...well, thinking. Very deep thinking. pondering a thought and seeing what you can add or subtract, breaking it down and building it back up as well. I also think about quick thinking, coming to a successful conclusion efficiently, thinking on your feet.
That's quite a bit. Honestly, I don't think I know what critical thinking is, without looking it up, that is,


When I read things, i try to retain but sometimes what I read doesn't retain for very long, and that is bothersome. When it comes to studying, I don't have a proper method for studying because my ability to retain what I study is so low.


I do think critically about media and politics sometimes. When I can i would think too hard about a certain article or a certain comment, but other times very profane comments or commercials just pass me by. I do try to exercise my mind at every opportunity.


What I expect from this class? I expect to be able to retain more. I expect that from this class I will learn how to get more out of studying or reading or simply watching TV or listening to music. Also, on the research end, I hope that this class will give me more tools to use as I go through college and through my working life to use towards research.