The Tell-Tale Heart

When I first read this story I thought it was interesting, weird and a little creepy. After hearing about what others thought of this story and their analysis on it I learned some really good points.

All throughout out the story the narrator refers to themselves as I. I like many other people just thought the narrator was a man but since the story doesn't say that the narrator could possibly be a woman. In the second paragraph the narrator say, " I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult." The more I think about those couple of lines the more it sounds like the narrator could be a woman.

The narrator obviously goes crazy and has mental problems. Towards the end of the story killing the old man was starting to get to him as he imagines the sound of the old man's heart beat under the floor boards. Throughout the story the narrator says they were nervous which makes it possible the heart beat they hear coming from the floor is just their own.

In the story the narrator's reason for killing the old man was his eye. Although while reading the story I thought the narrator was crazy there was also something that didn't seem bad about them. For a moment I was caught asking myself what did the old man do to make the narrator want to kill him and what does the eye have to do with anything? The narrator states "...for it was not the old man who vexed me but his Evil Eye." This makes since because in many cultures the Evil Eye is real. A person with the evil eye can cause misfortune to people just by looking at them. Maybe the narrator had good reason for killing the old man. Maybe the narrator's mental problems were caused by the old man's evil eye.

Good-Bye is always hard

  

She stood, just staring. She wondered how weird she looked just standing there. She took a break from her fascination to check for any critics. But there were none. There was just the same deserted street she had come into a few moments ago. The sun was setting and the sky was painted with the most beautiful blend of pink and orange she ever saw. The air smelled sweet from the ongoing cookie factory not too far from her. She inhaled the deepest breath she could through her nose and let the sugary scent come into her senses. Once her nose decided it was pleased she turned back to her preoccupation. Her old elementary stood before her.

She imagined what it must look like for preschool and kindergarten students. She imagined it seemed enormous and a little scary. Her mind raced back to when she was in kindergarten, as if it happened yesterday. Weaving her way through all the upper grade kids that seemed to tower her in height, never looking happy to be there.  But now she only saw a familiar sight that felt like her second home. She missed it.

Noise off in the distance caught her attention. Thinking she was hearing things she ignored it. Then she heard the noise again but closer. Knowing now that her ears were not deceiving her she turned in the direction of the noise. A girl who looked to be around her age was walking in her direction. She was short and plump and her short black hair moved with the breeze. At first she thought the girl would walk passed her but as the girl got closer she knew that the girl was walking to her. She didn’t know who this girl was. She tried to pay close attention and try to identify her by her facial features but her memory failed her. Maybe this was a stranger asking for help or some crazy person ……. Or a dangerous person. She forced herself not to come to that conclusion. She decided she was just being crazy because of the stranger danger lessons she got fed as a child. As the girl became within four feet of her she asked

“Sylvia is that you. Do you remember me?”  

I stood there not saying anything. A puzzled look on my face must have informed her of my memory block.

“You seriously didn’t forget me did you? I’m Elizabeth I used to be your best friend..ringing any bells?”

Memories of her old school days with her companion started flooding her brain. She wondered where those memories were a few seconds ago.

“Hey Elizabeth. Wow you look really different.”

She did indeed look different. Her now short black hair was long and brown. Although it was the only thing that changed about her appearance it played as a master of disguise, masking was once used to identify her.

“I know. You would know what I looked like if you kept in touch with me like we said we were going to do.”

“Yeah, everything has just been crazy. Have you visited any of our old teachers?”

“Yeah. I usually come and see them when I’m picking up my little brother or have time to. How about you?”

“I saw them once but only for a few minutes.”

“Well did you just forget about everybody?”

“ NO. I…..”

There goes the question. The one Slyvia wished wasn’t asked. She tossed possible answers around in her head and then decided to really think about the question. It’s not that she forgot. She thought about her past often. There was something that she just didn’t want to revisit. Graduation was the end. Nothing would be the same. She had other things to move on to. So once it was the end she was gone.

“Saying good-bye was just easier I guess.”

The Traveling Song by WILL I AM

I've been around the world in the pouring rain,
Feeling out of place, really felling strange,
Take me to a place where the know my name,
Cuz I ain't met nobody that looks the same,
I'm a fish out of water, Lion out of the jungle,
I need my peoples, my peoples, take me to my peoples,
Just gotta have someone, gotta have someone, to relate to, to relate to,
Just gotta have someone, gotta have someone, to relate to, to relate to,

Chorus
See I been travelin,
Been travelin forever,
But now that I found a home feels like I'm in heaven,
See I been traveling,
Been travelin forever,
But now that I'm home feels like I'm in heaven,
See I been travelin,
Been travelin forever,
But now that I found a home feels like I'm in heaven,
Feels like I'm in heaven, feels like I'm in heaven,
Feels like I'm in heaven, feels like I'm in heaven, heaven,

Travelin the world like a torren man,
Been around the planet in a foreign land,
I've seen things that I thought I'd never see,
Take me to a place where they look like me,
I'm a lion out the jungle, fish out of the ocean,
I need my peoples, my peoples, take me to my peoples,
Just gotta have someone, gotta have someone, to relate to, to relate to,
Just gotta have someone, gotta have someone, to relate to, to relate to,

Chorus
See I been travelin,
Been travelin forever,
But now that I found a home feels like I'm in heaven,
See I been traveling,
Been travelin forever,
But now that I'm home feels like I'm in heaven,
See I been travelin,
Been travelin forever,
But now that I found a home feels like I'm in heaven,
Feels like I'm in heaven, feels like I'm in heaven,
Feels like I'm in heaven, feels like I'm in heaven, heaven,
Feels like I'm in heaven, feels like I'm in heaven

The physical part of the lyrics is about a traveler that wants to go home where he doesn't feel out of place.
The lyrics is about a person feeling out of place and wanting to be with people like them. The traveler is the speaker. The emotion is one of homesickness or not feeling like you belong.

"I've been around the world in the pouring rain,
Feeling out of place, really felling strange,
Take me to a place where the know my name,
Cuz I ain't met nobody that looks the same,"

The song uses metaphors to show that he feel out of place.
"I'm a fish out of water, Lion out of the jungle,"
"I'm a lion out the jungle, fish out of the ocean,"

The fact that the person has been traveling means that they have been trying to find a place where they belong but have been unsucessful

On the Reservation....

In my mind I picture the mouths of Native Americans moving in slow motion
Their heads shaking and their fingers pointing to something in the distance
fear, anxiety, worry deep in their eyes, spreading across their faces


Their voices are silenced
I'm not sure why I can't hear them
I turn my head to get a glimpse of what is causing them grief


Frank Hayden stands in the distance
War hero, successful doctor, a well breed American
harmless... right?

Except... except the dark look in his eyes
there's something there, menacing and deceiving
I cannot point out what it is although its the closest to pure evil I think I've ever seen

The intuition stirring deep in my gut has unhesitatingly placed the Native American's pain with Frank.
But there's a problem

He's a Hayden
You don't question a Hayden
and you certainly don't make accusations against them

Its a rule
unspoken but possessing power so unimaginable
it is never broken 

I look back at the Native Americans
Their faces still showing the embedded pain that has scared their hearts 

Although I am sure that Frank has caused mischief on the reservation
I turn my head as the world turns their head and walk away
and as I did I passed a sign

WELCOME TO MONTANA'S RESERVATION
...... where silence is golden

Thoughts on the Reading

Figuring out what it means to be American has been very interesting. I've been trying to get the most out of the stories that I've read and piecing together all the stories to come up with some type of idea of how I would describe on American is hard.

After reading On being a Mexican American and Young gifted and Black I thought that maybe America is just not into accepting of other people's differences, but that not really true, because America is home to so many diverse people. Zora in How it feels to be colored me was fine with her differences. By calling myself an African American am I just giving in the segregation of America or am I keeping some type of connection with my ancestors like the Native American in Sacred Soil said it was so important to do? What about the boy in There Was a Child Went Forth he became everything he saw. Does this mean that if you experience American culture you become an American? Should we all just become immigrants within our own country letting our differences carry us father then blending in to society ever will as suggested by How Being an Immigrant shaped my life and follow our own drummer like Walden advised.


There's various elements to all of these stories and so many ideas floating around in my head right now. My brain is on 'What is an American?' OVERLOAD.


So here is my Definition.
An American is a person who is in America or comes to America and embraces America's unique culture while also staying true to their differences that allows them to flourish and achieve success, whatever that is for them, in a place of unlimited chance and possibility even in the face of adversity unlike other places in the world.

Reflection on Reading

In the story There Was a Child Went Forth by Whitman is talking about a childs journey through the day and how what he sees becomes a part of. So in terms of what does being American mean from this story being American would mean becoming embracing American culture and really becoming an American even if you were not born here.
Being American is not just being born here its more of a culture. If a person does embrace the culture then they should be considered American.

I've been thinking about the other stories like the story Young Gifted and Black by Hansberry and This Sacred Soil by Seattle and I 'm still thinking about those stories. I feel like what I have to say about them is on the tip of my tongue but I haven't gotten there yet. It's like the term American was coined so long ago when things were separated.......You know what I will definitely get back to you on the next blog.