Ida B. Wells: An Underappreciated Revolutionary
In 2019, transgender journalist Lewis Wallace will release a companion podcast to his upcoming book, The View from Somewhere. The podcast “features journalists from marginalized and oppressed communities who have pushed back on the ‘objective’ framework, or attempted new ways of thinking about and practicing journalism.” Among the journalists included in the podcast are Andrew Kopkind, Marlon Riggs, and the subject of this paper, Ida B. Wells. The description of a journalist who pushes back on an objective framework to spread word about an issue they think is important is appropriate for Ida, who used her power of the pen and paper to write about African-American issues in the South, particularly lynching laws surrounding African-Americans.
That's Not Your Style
A little bit of context before this story starts: This was a writing experiment I wrote for a creative writing last a few months ago. The challenge was to grab a random setting and a random mood and write a story based off of it. We were supposed to write some of our own settings and moods and then pull them out of random.org to see what we got. The results I wrote down that were ultimately chosen for me were "uninspired" and "filming a YouTube video during the week." Here's what I came up with.
And... Action!: Why I Love Movies
Over a year ago, I submitted a short podcast to a podcast competition for The New York Times. I had never produced a podcast before and I had absolutely no idea where to start, but I still wanted to at least try and make one. I'm personally proud of the final product, at least for an amateurly made podcast with royalty-free music. If you want to listen to the full podcast for yourself, click here.
The World Is Complicated
"I like to think I’m a pretty optimistic person. I’ve always tried to look on the bright side of any situation and work as hard as possible to see solutions to problems all the way through. I like the idea of being able to spread positive energy to those around me and alleviate my friend’s stress."
"I Really Wanted To Be Wrong:" Broadchurch and How Character Development Can Be Paid off With One Line of Dialogue
The first season of the critically acclaimed TV drama Broadchurch involves the death of an 11-year old boy in a small, tight-knit British community. During the season's run, characters are developed, secrets are revealed, and decisions are made that affect the tranquility and trustworthiness of the town and its citizens. Trying to keep this tenseness to a minimum are DIs Alec Hardy and Ellie Miller, two police officers who are assigned to find the murderer of the boy, Danny Latimer. At the end of the season, after many tense moments that tear the town apart, destroy the lives of primary characters, and deteriorate the feeling of safety in the town, Alec finally finds the killer; Joe Miller, Ellie's husband. After Joe is put under custody and arrested, Alec and Ellie go over the circumstances of the case. Ellie asks Alec to say that this isn’t happening, realizing that she has to live with the burden of her husband killing a young boy and somehow not realizing that the killer was right in front of her all along. DI Miller simply tells her, “I really wanted to be wrong.” At face value, this is simply a sentimental line that shows just how much their friendship has developed. However, if you dig deeper into this one line of dialogue, you will realize that the line means so much more and isn’t just meant as a throwaway sentimental line to make the audience feel happy that Ellie and Alec are friends now.
Well... this is it. The end of the world as I know it. You know, maybe I'll actually get lucky. Maybe she'll actually want to go out with me. Maybe that text wasn't a stupid idea. At the same time, maybe I sent it too soon. I mean, couldn't I have just waited until I got back to school? Oh, that's right, I'm an impatient idiot who can't just wait to ask somebody out in person. Whoopty-freakin-doo. God, what do I do? Do I send another text saying to ignore the first one? Do I delete the text and just forget it ever happened? Do I even ask her out at all? I mean, what if I’m just reading too much into this? What if she actually doesn’t like me and I just jumped to a conclusion because I want it to be true? Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god. Don’t you just love how you internalize a decision for ages, then you finally make the decision and regret that you didn’t just stick with your original course of action? Shoot, shoot, shoot.
The Log Cabin
I see a log cabin up ahead. Finally, some shelter. I’ve been walking through these lush woods for at least half an hour. I was only planning on taking a quick walk in the snowy forest, but a blinding blizzard started with no warning and I lost my orientation. I have no idea which direction is the right direction, which way goes further into the woods and which way takes me back home. Now, finally, a sign of some sort of shelter. I can take refuge inside that cabin until the blizzard dies down and I can figure out where I am. The snowflakes swirl around me as the wind continues to pick up and blast in my face. Despite the fact that I am wearing a down jacket, snow pants, thick gloves, and heavy winter boots, I am freezing cold. It feels like -20 degrees Fahrenheit out here. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if it was. As I continue walking towards the cabin, it feels like it’s moving further and further away from me. After what feels like five minutes, the cabin stops in place, and I start making actual progress reaching it. I finally make it to the front of the cabin, and I walk up the two stairs leading to the door. I jiggle the door handle, and because the door is so old, it takes me a good ten seconds to push in the door. I quickly get inside and close the door behind me. Oh, finally. I’m somewhere that’s at least warmer than out there.
“Sir, you don’t understand. I’m not mentally capable of doing something like this.” “I don’t care. Just get to it.” I’m struggling to fight it. Trying to escape the control. There’s no way out. His voice rumbles in my head, shaking the world around me as he tries to break down my defenses. He’s trying to make me susceptible to his every suggestion. I’m fighting and fighting, but he keeps persisting. I scream out in pain. “You don’t understand! I can't cope with doing something like that!”