What I Am Thankful For

I am thankful for the originality and creative uniqueness of everyone in my AP Lit class.
Each one has  their own perspective to share and bring to the group 

                      I am thankful for cousins who will let me invade their personal space on a very regular basis.

I am thankful for wonderful and hilarious friends that I can do literally anything with
and still have more fun than I've ever had before.  

I am thankful for two wonderful siblings that are both so different, and add so much enjoyment to my life.
I am so happy that I get to share moments like these with them. 

I am also thankful for coordinated sibling frowning.

I am thankful for my parents that would do anything for me, and somehow
 put up with my nonsense on a daily basis.  

I am thankful for random Asian babies that actually want me to hold them.
They really are the cutest of the baby species. 

I am thankful for delicious  Christmas tree cookies that represent a family tradition
following a  successful Christmas tree hunt. 

I am thankful for stuffed animals that have "accurate anatomical design".
Come on, you can't help but smile.

I am thankful for friends that serenade me with their
glorious guitar strumming and beautiful voice. 

I am thankful for my loving cat who sits in the oddest of places
and uses me for warmth. 

I am thankful for raising my voice in song and worship along with my fellow
believers at church. It is my favorite part of every service. 

I am thankful for the deer that left this adorable pile of turds in the grass,
and I am thankful that I am weird enough that I can actually appreciate a pile of excrement.
I wish humans had poop this cute. 

Finally, I am thankful for every little light and pine needle that eventually come together
to form the most magnificent of Christmas trees. 

Shakespearean Sonnet

Siblings

Two knights approach, with lance in hand on steed,

Intent to strike, disarm their foe for fee.

Display away, they're not supposed to bleed,

It's all for fun; such is my bro and me.

A quite complex connection that we share,

The days of laughter, joy and play abound,

A loving jibe, a joking taunt, with care

Is said before we wrestle on the ground.

Then one wrong word, and kinship disappears.

Though fists will stop, the tongue will be the sword.

It escalates, and wrath becomes sad tears,

How quick the jump from fondness to discord!

      But in the end, he's still my friend and bro.

      Him I'd defend, with claws exten'd, fo' sho'. 

The Chorus of Antigone: Do these old dudes know what's up?

              Oh great Creon, what a battle it has been that I, the Chorus, have witnessed today. The traitor Polynices rose against our city, but was struck down by his own brother’s sword. And now, “You have given your judgment for the friend and for the enemy. As for those that are dead, so for us who remain, your will is law” (132). You are right to condemn Antigone. She buried Polynices despite your edict to the contrary, and defying you in such a way is unacceptable. I am entirely devoted to my lord, for you are king indeed, and what you say is the law of the land. You merely seek to protect our fair Thebes as you see fit, and if you desire for such rebellion to be punished, I respect your authority. Poor Antigone had no right. That girl “shows her father’s stubborn spirit: foolish not to give way when everything’s against her” (139). My lord, to this disobedience you cannot turn a blind eye.

                Oh, but what is this? Now thy son Haemon appears, declaring that the people of Thebes pity Antigone. They consider it most unjust for her to die for such an honourable action as providing her brother with a proper burial, just as the gods have declared it. Now I am conflicted, for “There is something to be said, my lord, for his point of view and for yours as well; there is much to be said on both sides” (145). Oh supreme gods of Olympus, I do hold thy timeless will in high regard. Indeed, “For what presumption of man can match thy power, O Zeus, that art not subject to sleep or time or age” (142). Who are we, as mere human beings, to contradict a tradition from authority such as that? Though I have such great admiration for our dear king, can I really condone punishing young Antigone for simply doing what she considered honourable and just? I look at her, and it “is a sight beyond all bearing, at which my eyes cannot but weep” (148). Oh Creon, perhaps the words of Haemon should not be ignored. The law of the eternal god’s is higher than your law, is it not? Surely resisting the gods is a foolish act to commit, and is not beyond repercussions.

                Truly, now the prophecy of Teiresius has confirmed our thinking. He has spoken, and our lord is to be punished for his pride with the deaths of his beloved wife and son. At this time, “If you would be advised, my good lord Creon... Release the woman from her rocky prison. Set up a tomb for him that lies unburied” (155). We were wrong to think anything profitable would come from ignoring the gods. Far greater is their wisdom, surpassing anything that we could ever know. I am so sorry, dear Creon, but “Alas, too late you have seen the truth” (160). I believe now a great lesson has been learned by all because of the pride of our lord, and what a tragedy it has been.  

I Am a Complex Character

“Madi, it’s okay, really. I think tha-”

“But it’s not okay.” She cut me off, glaring at the wall like a ravenous cat that had just missed its last kill. “They had no right to treat you like that.”

I looked at her face and her eyes flickered to mine. Her jaw was set in her slight, involuntary underbite. I could see little tears welling up and catch in her lashes, obstinately refusing to take the final plunge onto her cheek.

I sighed and glanced down at my hand. Madison had it cradled in her lap, absentmindedly running her fingers up and down my forearm. Even with her muscles tensed, she kept her fingers soft and light against my skin, making my nerve endings sing with contentment.   

“Well, what are we going to do about it?” she demanded.

“There’s nothing that we can do at this point. Please, don’t worry about it. It’s all over and done with.”

Her expression almost exploded. She jumped out of her seat and slammed her fist down on the table. It could have been almost comical if she wasn’t so impassioned and angry. “There has to be something we can do! No one is allowed to be that derogatory and rude to my friends. Ever.” She jerked her head toward the door and seemed about ready to rush out to kick some butt.   

“Madi...” my quiet voice pleaded. She snapped back into reality. I relaxed as she forced herself to sit back down next to me. Her eyebrows furrowed, but she resumed stroking my arm, which seemed to help calm her down.

“I- I just can’t stand to see you upset, that’s all.” Her tone was thoughtful, loving, as if I was her entire world and the only person that mattered. It felt really nice.

We just sat there for a while like that, in total silence. Nothing needed to be said; her company was sufficient. I knew she had a million other places to be and had so much on her mind —that thing never turned off—but she chose to stay and comfort me anyways. I smiled and leaned against her shoulder, and as always, she shifted herself to accommodate. 

College Personal Statement

Today, this little number is putting the ROUGH in “rough draft.” Please enjoy.  

Also, I think I tooted my own horn waaaay too hard; please forgive my apparent arrogance. But how does one brag with subtlety and finesse? Somebody teach me!

...................................................

           The tortilla glared menacingly at me like a blistering eye. My hands froze as my gaze shifted anxiously to my partner, silently imploring him for help. He gets the message. I shrank helplessly to the side, watching his confident fingers rescue my drowning dish. Tortilla. Cheese. Chicken. He fluidly combines the ingredients together, finally folding it over to reveal a perfect, golden quesadilla, ready to serve to the expectant customer. Defeated, I remain in my isolated corner of the kitchen, praying for the end of a lunch rush that could not come soon enough. It was the summer before my junior year, and the Culinary Arts class I had enrolled in was proving more challenging than I had anticipated.  

            This failure came as an abrupt slap to the face. In most academic and extracurricular pursuits I can hold my own. Over the years, with Honors and AP courses, track and field, my art, seven years of piano, basketball, theatre, I feel relaxed and confident. Responsibility and work ethic define me. Whether I like it or not, I always tend to gravitate towards a leadership role in any group project. Why? Because people trust me to get the job done, and get it done well.

            Indeed, success and I were old pals. Yet here I was, bested by a bit of melted dairy and dough. I felt so inadequate, so useless, so far outside my comfort zone. It was going to be an arduous four weeks, to say the least.

            Thankfully, I had friends and teachers who encouraged me not to give up. We would be running the restaurant for another two weeks, with plenty of opportunities to seek instruction and improvement. The circumstances pushed me to perform unfamiliar tasks and work with new people; everyday was its own unique challenge to overcome.

            It all came down to one moment. It was the day I was assigned to beef stir fry with three other girls. The restaurant was particularly packed, and of course our dish was the favorite meal. The first few orders began rolling in.

            The kitchen was chaos. All around us people were busily preparing their own food, rushing about; the metallic clanging of pans against stoves echoed noisily through the confusion. We were not moving fast enough. Disorganized and overwhelmed, we were backed up with orders. Chef kept yelling at us to pick up the pace, and I couldn’t take it any longer.

             I turned to our girl who was working the stove. “Can you handle cooking with two pans at once?” Without a word, she shook her head. I saw my own fearful panic reflected in her eyes, wide as saucers. But then something came over me. It was almost instinct; a sense of authority and perfect clarity settled around me. I became hyper focused as everything that needed to be accomplished for the dish flashed through my mind.

            “Okay, I’ll do it.” I was a force of nature. I grabbed the pans and rapidly assigned each girl a roll. All other distractions faded to oblivion. My partners did as I asked, tentative hands and uncertainty yielding to a growing confidence. Like a well-oiled machine we produced gorgeous displays of intoxicating food. The kitchen was my domain, and I had never felt so alive. It truly was a glorious feeling of warmth and satisfaction.

            That Culinary Arts class was truly a milestone in my mental development. I learned that a fear of failure cannot champion me. The class taught me that I can flourish even while working in high-pressure and unfamiliar situations. Furthermore, I used to not always be the most social. However, being forced to work with total strangers shattered my boundaries and opened me up to such interaction that I have come to enjoy and love. It has radically enhanced my academic experience, affording me new friends across secondary that got to know me on a more personal level. Indeed, they eventually trusted me enough to overwhelmingly vote me into office as Treasurer for the Associated Student Body, a position with great monetary responsibility. As my high school career draws to a bittersweet close, I know now that I am ready to take on any challenge life throws my way. I can only believe that God has great things planned for my future, and I wait with eager anticipation to see where His path will take me.  

My Personality and Character

Who Am I?

INTJ

Introvert(11%)  iNtuitive(25%)  Thinking(25%)  Judging(67%)

• You have slight preference of Introversion over Extraversion (11%)
• You have moderate preference of Intuition over Sensing (25%)
• You have moderate preference of Thinking over Feeling (25%)
• You have distinctive preference of Judging over Perceiving (67%)

INTJs may appear to project an aura of "definiteness", of self-confidence. -Yeah, I am generally pretty sure of myself. I'm certainly not shy, comfortable around people and with handling responsibility. Indeed, when I know how to do something, I am not afraid to take charge and show everyone "what's up", as it were. What INTJs "do" tends to be what they "know". -My thoughts exactly. I am  happy to take the back seat if somebody else better understands the task or materials. Once I learn what to do, though, I am quickly willing to take charge again.

INTJs are perfectionists, with a seemingly endless capacity for improving upon anything that takes their interest. -Come on, people, do I really need to say anything about this? I'll  be honest, I've slowly been chipping away at my rigid expectations and desire for perfection, and it has softened to some extent. However, I simply cannot help wanting to always do my best; I detest disappointing others by producing anything less. If I truly care about something, you can count on only the finest my mind has to offer.

This in turn produces an unusual independence of mind, freeing the INTJ from the constraints of authority, convention, or sentiment for its own sake. -Yep, I don't care what any of ya'll think! If I disagree with something, I am not afraid to voice and argue my opinion on the matter; hopefully respectfully, but I can get heated at times. My mind is mine.

they tend to have little patience and less understanding of such things as small talk and flirtation (which most types consider half the fun of a relationship). -What? Psh, no, flirting is fun. Enough said.

Anyone considered to be "slacking," including superiors, will lose their respect -- and will generally be made aware of this. -Okay, while most of the other analysis seemed pretty general and not terribly insightful, this was the one snippet that really struck a cord with me. If someone isn't willing to pull their weight, I DO instantly lose respect for them, especially if it negatively affects me. I would like to apologize to any of my peers that have been on the receiving end of my wrath in a group project; I've certainly been a tyrannical partner on numerous occasions (sorry! D:). I think this issue is that I have such high standards for myself (ya know, the whole perfectionist thing), and then I expect the same from everyone else. Really though, as long as people put in the effort do their best according to their abilities, this character description is not an issue.

This analysis really only feels like one half of me. It sounded too cold (to be fair, my responses may have sounded a little stiff too). I do care about my friends and peers, and I like to be considerate of them, because I deeply care about all of you guys. I still am affected by emotions and feeling too! Anywho...  

Affirmation Solicitation  

Character Qualities:

1. Mature

2. Competent

3. Intelligent

4. Funny

5. Creative

It would be one thing if Madison was only intelligent and extremely competent in everything she does, but she's also constantly driving herself to do even better. When one also considers her sharp wit and her impressive artistic and creative skills, on realizes that there isn't very much Madison isn't good at. This might be a problem if Madison wasn't humble as well. 

Madison also has an intense desire to learn - to know why things happened and to question people's assumptions. Combine all of this with her strong sense of justice and her willingness to do what's right and one can see the basis for the high regard Madison is held in by her peers and this staff. 

Mere Christianity Reflection

Love your Neighbor as Yourself 

Narrowing the idea that personally impacted me down to one specific quote from Mere Christianity proved to be too much for me to handle, because what struck me the most was almost the entirety of chapter seven in book three, entitled "Forgiveness". Rest assured, quotes shall be utilized in my reflection, so that portion of the assignment will not be neglected. Let's dive in!

In "Forgiveness", C.S. Lewis breaks down the concept of loving your neighbor as yourself, a commandment declared by Christ in Mark 12:31. Lewis challenges himself with the question "how exactly do I love myself?" I read this sentence, and not a moment later I scribbled down an annotation. My initial thoughts flashed to the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

It seemed so simple to me. The idea "love your neighbor as yourself" and the Golden Rule appeared synonymous, evoking the same response from a Christian: "Be nice to others. Why? Because you want them to be nice to you. Also, because God told you to, so you should probably listen to Him." The analysis of *cue mocking, deep British voice* "how EXACTLY we love ourselves", the divining of the exact reasoning behind how we love ourselves and why sounded irrelevant.

Then I read it. I was wrong.

C.S. Lewis explains a love for others that is a lot deeper than saying 'please' and 'thank you' and sharing your crayons. It's not flowery either; it is real and multi-dimensional, with striking implications I had never really considered before.

As individuals we don't particularly feel very fond of ourselves. Neither do we think we are always incredibly nice either. In his reasoning, C.S. Lewis says it is "my self-love [that] makes me think myself nice, but thinking myself nice is not why I love myself" (116). Therefore, loving our neighbor does not mean we have to be fond of them, nor do we have to think they are nice. This idea is pretty straight forward, and actually quite a relief.

It's the second part that I struggled with. C.S. Lewis sums it up: "I can look back on some of the things I have done with horror and loathing. So apparently I am allowed to loathe and hate some of the things my enemies do" (117). Basically, hate the sin, but still love the sinner.

This was difficult for me for a very long time, particularly in regards to sexually immoral people. My church was so closed-minded towards anyone with sexual sins: people who had sex and/or lived together before marriage, homosexuals, etc. Sexual immorality was so hated and despised that as a young impressionable child, I did not differentiate between sin and sinner. For example, and to my shame, if I even heard a man talk effeminately, I would immediately judge and condemn in my mind. It was so wrong, so un-Christlike. As I've matured, I have been able to free myself of such instantaneous, harsh judgment. Of course I am still not perfect, but reading this section of Mere Christianity really struck home with me as a reminder, and taught me a new way to imagine the love I had previously neglected.

To wrap up, I guess if I had to choose one quote to embody the idea that caused the most personal reflection, it'd be this: "Wish that [your neighbor] were not bad, to hope that he may, in this world or another, be cured: in fact, to wish his good" (120). This is exactly the mindset I aspire to and pursue. You love them. You don't have to think they're nice, or be fond of them, or ignore their sin. You want them to be good, like Christ was good, and hope that your love for them can be a means to that end.

So, yeah, that was my whole thought process that I went through when I read this chapter. Don't get me wrong, I still think the Golden Rule is important, and is a great tool to use in the instruction of little children. However, the implications of it for me are too shallow now. It says nothing of this love as Lewis describes. Perhaps it was not all totally new and mind-blowing. Regardless, it was still an eye-opener for me, that made me want to apply the concept in the the context of my life. I am more considerate of my actions and thoughts in regards to this subject, to say the least. It is a beautiful thing.

Analogy of my Life

Did You Remember the Second Bag?

          A little girl went out to the beach on her own for the very first time. Beach-combing was her passion; she had bags and bags full of little treasures proudly stacked all over her room, all collected under her mother's watchful eye. Today, however, she was allowed to strike out on her own.

          As she had soared towards the door, her mother had called after her, "Do you have a plastic bag to carry the shells and things that you find today?" The girl smirked confidently. This was not her first rodeo. It'd be downright foolish to forget such an essential part of a beach-combing kit. "Of course I do!"

          "Alright, remember to use a second bag for reinforcement!" the mother added quickly. The little girl barely acknowledged her mother's unwarranted concerns. She KNEW what she was doing. 

          

          Down at the beach, the girl set right to work. Under her carefree eye, everything glittered with the promise of value. Many different trinkets were eagerly placed into the plastic bag.

          Many things were truly beautiful. There were seashells, the surfaces gloriously textured with spines and spirals; there were soft pebbles of all shapes and sizes, expertly painted with the color palette of nature; and there were delicate shards of sea glass, smoothed to perfection by the gentle touch of the surf. 

          Likewise, many things were not so beautiful. There were little bits of stick and wood that had been randomly trampled underfoot; there were crushed beer cans and other trash, discarded from a careless bonfire party; and there were broken bones and carcasses leftover from the seagulls' morning meal. 

          All the same, the plastic bag began to fill. Soon it started to stretch and tense, its capacity rapidly approaching. It grew heavier and heavier, straining to contain the range of items inside. The little girl did not notice. She continued putting more pieces in the bag. It began tearing, glass and shells and bones poking through the taut sides. The bag is stuffed to the point of bursting, yet the little girl continued with one item after another, until....

          She froze when she heard the harsh tearing sound of the defeated plastic. Her eyes went wide as she wondered,  

                                 Did I remember to double-bag it? 

          *Bum-bum-BAHH!!!* Yes, okay, I know that was a rather long and unnecessarily detailed story (perhaps I was having too much fun with it) that may have seemed a little anti-climactic. However, the point I wanted to get across was this: my life is like that plastic bag, and the second bag, the one to help strengthen and reinforce the first, is God.

          On a daily basis, new things are put into the repertoire of my identity: experiences, victories, failures, temptations, friends, family, emotions, passions, the good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly. As a human being, there is only so much that I can handle alone. Life is going to overwhelm me and knock me down. I know for a fact that some point down the road, I am going to burst. It has not happened yet, but it will come. The question is, when I do fall apart, will I have that second bag? God is the only One who will be able to give me the strength and resilience to survive through the darkest times. When this world wants to tear me in two, I want to be sure that I have my Father cover and support me. Thus far on my journey, the struggle is being a faithful follower of Christ and relying on God's foundation when I am weak. It has not been, nor will it be, easy. 

And  I desperately hope and pray and cry out to God that I remember to grab that second bag. 

Litany: Revamped

You are the moon and the stars,
The warm embrace and the smile...
-some insightful, probably misunderstood poet genius

You are the moon and the stars,
The warm embrace and the smile.
You are the torn off limb of a child's teddy bear,
and the piece of chocolate split between friends.
You are the squirrel that caught the pup's eye,
and the lone ship adrift in the tranquil sea.

However, you are not the power cord on the gaming console,
the first red leaf of Fall,
or the college acceptance letter.
And you are certainly not the bride's bouquet.
There is just no way that you are the bride's bouquet.

It is possible that you are the ember in the dying fire,
maybe even the F-sharp in a D Major chord,
but you are not even close
to being the left eye of the hungry tigress.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the spiderweb twinkling like silk
nor the shell of the timid nautilus.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the allegorical abundance of my mind,
that I am the force of air in the singer's lungs.

I also happen to be knot in the fishing line
the collar around the dog's throat
and the piece of pepperoni betwixt the teeth.

I am also the climax in the classics
and the pine cone in the earth.
But don't worry, I'm not the moon and the stars.
You are still the moon and the stars.
You will always be the moon and the stars,
not to mention the warm embrace and--somehow--the smile.

Madison Sitterley