Week Nine; March
This story was powerful in a different way than some of the stories we've read over this semester. While Maus was powerful, since it had all of it's characters depicted as animals, you as the reader were able to disconnect to a certain degree because it felt like you were reading a fairy tale. This is gave Maus it's power because it was made more palatable to a wider audience. March didn't have the buffer layer of design. This story, even though Maus had the harsher subject matter, felt much more raw and real because of it's truer to life and real person design. Perhaps it had something to do with the recentness of the events with took place in March too. We see clothing, cars, homes, familiar faces and places and this makes us more comfortable and open to what the we are seeing on the page. As for what happens in the tale its self we are confronted with a subject matter which almost completely mirrors what is going on now to a degree. Perhaps not to such an extreme of rioting and such a degree of violence but we aren't off by much. This really makes me wonder; this has been going on since the time depicted in Maus when people who assume themselves superior take it upon themselves to make sure society is built upon the flesh of another peoples, why do we not learn our lesson? Are we merely living in an insane world because we keep doing the same thing over, and over, and over and over again? Is that not the definition of insanity? Doing the exact same thing over and over again expecting, hoping, driving for a different result? It makes one want to scream! Then one takes a moment to reflect, and one realizes to scream would do nothing. Our daily existence portrays our screams; see me, hear me, notice me, love me, accept me, and yet, no one seems to see, or hear, or notice, or care. Is that not what they were fighting for in March? Or in Maus? Hear me, acknowledge me as something more than what you think I am, because I am so much more than what you assume. I have a beating heart, I have a mind, I have the same doubts, worries, fears, pains, questions as you. So what does it matter what colors my skin is? What does it matter my religion? We are all insane, we are all screaming out to be noticed. We are all silently protesting something in our own way. All it takes is a protest, perhaps a question, and here is mine. Is insanity a requirement for life? Are silent protests always restricted to being silent by insanity? Are the two able to be separated? Would our screams do nothing or is it insanity that lies and tells us to keep quiet that to speak is pointless? Are we capable of asking these questions? Or even answering them?
This story was powerful in a different way than some of the stories we've read over this semester. While Maus was powerful, since it had all of it's characters depicted as animals, you as the reader were able to disconnect to a certain degree because it felt like you were reading a fairy tale. This is gave Maus it's power because it was made more palatable to a wider audience. March didn't have the buffer layer of design. This story, even though Maus had the harsher subject matter, felt much more raw and real because of it's truer to life and real person design. Perhaps it had something to do with the recentness of the events with took place in March too. We see clothing, cars, homes, familiar faces and places and this makes us more comfortable and open to what the we are seeing on the page. As for what happens in the tale its self we are confronted with a subject matter which almost completely mirrors what is going on now to a degree. Perhaps not to such an extreme of rioting and such a degree of violence but we aren't off by much. This really makes me wonder; this has been going on since the time depicted in Maus when people who assume themselves superior take it upon themselves to make sure society is built upon the flesh of another peoples, why do we not learn our lesson? Are we merely living in an insane world because we keep doing the same thing over, and over, and over and over again? Is that not the definition of insanity? Doing the exact same thing over and over again expecting, hoping, driving for a different result? It makes one want to scream! Then one takes a moment to reflect, and one realizes to scream would do nothing. Our daily existence portrays our screams; see me, hear me, notice me, love me, accept me, and yet, no one seems to see, or hear, or notice, or care. Is that not what they were fighting for in March? Or in Maus? Hear me, acknowledge me as something more than what you think I am, because I am so much more than what you assume. I have a beating heart, I have a mind, I have the same doubts, worries, fears, pains, questions as you. So what does it matter what colors my skin is? What does it matter my religion? We are all insane, we are all screaming out to be noticed. We are all silently protesting something in our own way. All it takes is a protest, perhaps a question, and here is mine. Is insanity a requirement for life? Are silent protests always restricted to being silent by insanity? Are the two able to be separated? Would our screams do nothing or is it insanity that lies and tells us to keep quiet that to speak is pointless? Are we capable of asking these questions? Or even answering them?
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