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I was struggling in ZW, in those people’s conversation when I read the book. Many times, they arouse the sense of agreement and belonging for me. I felt so depressed when I read the conversations between Felix and his ex Annie, when she refuse and ridicule the help Felix wants to offer and the optimism he wants to express. Felix wants to change and has hope. It’s like a light in a dark room, making me feel warm. But Annie is so cruel that her smashes the dream:” you are lucky that you are happy... and you want everyone to be happy and good because you are…does it never occur to you some people might not find life as easy to live as you do?” It’s so true! I am desperate when I read it because I am the person like Felix- who always wants to help, wants to change, to influence others in a way that I think is better, but perhaps they don’t like it at all. I can’t help anyone. I feel isolated because they can accept what I regard as horrible situation. Maybe I will further think this point and relate to the city- a indifferent and fragmented world collaged by the indifferent people.

Our discussions in class on Tuesday and Thursday have had me thinking all week about whether or not an unstructured school setting employing the use of queer time could succeed in the heteronormative time frame that mainstream society functions on. A lot of the thoughts that have in response to this question have been drawn from experiences of my own. I have decided to share my story with with the hopes that it might help some of you when forming an opinion of your own.

Anne said in class today that Zadie Smith stated she intended this book to have existentialist facets to it. She wanted it to be a testimony to the agency within us to make something of lives, as well as the lack of it in some individuals (like Leah). I am so curious as to the extent to which we choose our own paths. Because things like biology, societal/cultural pressures, expectations of your family, and where you grew up might have a hand in the direction your path takes. In NW, societal/cultural pressures and the geography of your childhood did play a role in the main character's futures. For instance, Leah slacked off and became a pot-smoking hippie in her days. She didn't work hard and didn't want to work hard. Society viewed her as the pot-smoking hippie she was and expected her life to not amount to much. And it did, according to Leah herself. It did not help, I think, that the poverty of her upbringing layered in her subconscious and made her think that she was destined to stay in this class? 

I found this film to be fascinating! True to life, and really seemed to hit close to home. I think it portrays how dramatically techonology and social media has already changed the way we are communicating and interacting. 

You can't really fight it. 

Warning: Some segments contain explicit male nudity  

http://www.fastcocreate.com/3017108/you-need-to-see-this-17-minute-film-set-entirely-on-a-teens-computer-screen

A book that presents an extremely critical and negative view of technology that I partially read before I started this course. I have yet to finish it because I think the book is a little repetitive. Nonetheless it is still a different perspective. It is written by Mark Bauerlein an English Professor from Emory University. The book was reccommended reading by an influential English teacher from my High School.

Connecting to our discussion today:

If young kids are spending alot more time being online and playing video games, are they spending less time reading?? 

http://educationnext.org/audio-excerpt-the-dumbest-generation-by-mark-bauerlein/

Link to Midcourse Feedback https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Sh64VzzH7DNVZp7eO_yxvQj4GlIuzAN2fHycAqDRY9c/edit?usp=sharing  

I’ve lived in Hangzhou, a city that is clean, beautiful and cozy, like a paradise to live in. I’ve also lived in Shanghai, a city that is exciting, intense and ideal for ambitious youths. Now I’m in a new city. Upon my arrival, I was unarmed, and given a pair of glasses and a scribble board.

Since I’m unarmed, I submit myself to all the possibilities. When facing different people, things, and ideas, I don’t attack them with my gun—the helpless human nature of opposing things different from us, the malicious criticism that bursts out as fast as a bullet and hurts much. On the contrary, I’m open to challenges. I let the homeless guy I met challenged my perception of my role in the city. During The Quiet Volume, I like how the artist seems to read my mind and control my emotions. I’m not ashamed of letting others into my head because I don’t consider it a weakness of determination, but just my way of appreciating and understanding an artwork—to let myself be immersed and savor my feelings.

I’m now sitting in Collier Library at Bryn Mawr, writing my homework for fall break with three other girls in a study room. Just two days ago I was lying in an apartment of Manhattan with my friend reading Zadie Smith. And two weeks before that, I met Zadie Smith and got a signature on my NW. If I go a little farer back to August, two months ago, I was in my hometown in China, and I knew nothing about this place I’m now sitting, or the people I’m sitting with, or how to take the greyhound bus to New York, or who Zadie Smith is. But now here I am, writing this paper, trying to think something out of these two months.

“Smells good.” “Keep up! It’s too crowded here. We have to stick together.” “That’s 5 dollars. Spicy or mild?” Noises of people chatting in various languages. A Latin jazz band played at the end of the street. A girl gave out questionnaires and orange bracelets that said “Latin Jazz for All”. I had to carefully avoid food dripping on the ground when I struggled a way through the throng.

It was Night Market in Chinatown. I went with several Chinese friends, hoping to find some reminiscence of my life back in China. Among many Mexican food stalls there were some Chinese ones, though not run by Chinese people. And it was the first time that I saw people in such density in America, so that reminded me of China, too. But it was just different, not what I expected of a night market.

Night markets, originated in Asia, are street markets for people to stroll, shop, and eat, and are more leisure compared to more businesslike day markets. Vendors gather every night. Besides food, there are many other every-day life objects: in residence neighborhoods, they sell pajamas and plants; in tourist sights, there are cultural products like paintings, stamps, and Peking Opera performances; around schools, one can find jewelries, card games, and comic books. Food relieves the weariness of shopping and walking around, and shopping is an enjoyable thing to do while eating. For many people, going to a night market is a relaxing and entertaining choice for a walk after diner.

In order to have a clearer picture of something as a whole, a person has to look at it deconstructed into parts. In the first half of this course I have looked at the city and writing in scattered playful components.

When we first went into the city, we road in by the Septa and saw the outside environment change from suburban, to a bit urban, and then underground as the train deposited us under the city. We emerged from Suburban Station to see some the city’s biggest landmarks within walking distance. We were given maps with landmarks and streets that we eventually attached physical memories to. These memories were not only made up of the landmarks and streets, but also of the homeless population and other demographics in Center City. By the end of the trip we had a clearer idea of Center City; and in later trips we gained a greater understand of some of the neighborhoods that branch off from there. We built up a clearer picture of Philadelphia by looking at its components of buildings, streets, and people.

Quiet volume deconstructed the way we think about words by playing with how we comprehend letters, words, sentences, and paragraphs. Visiting the mosaics in the Magic Gardens provided a platform for us to dismantle the way we view the city and ourselves, and the two interacting together. Then when writing, we were given room to recollect our raw and deconstructed thoughts.