Best Writings

It all started with the opening of a tall, red, cylinder canister of Pringles. The salty crunch of the chip; the mystery of how they all fit perfectly together; and the round cheery face of Mr. Pringle. From that moment on, the face of Mr. Pringle, and the Burger King Boy would replace Bich’s favorite cha gio and banh chung. Treats of Ben & Jerry’s would replace the sacred fruit of the ancestors. Blonde heads would surround Bich’s black-headed family. The power of God would even test Bich’s faith in Buddha and begin to erase her Vietnamese culture. The memoir title, “Stealing Buddha’s Dinner” represents Bich’s strive as an immigrant to become an American.
Bich had a passionate obsession with American food. Her Vietnamese family didn’t buy hamburgers or make homemade chocolate chip cookies like her friends. She envied them as she ate shrimp cakes and red bean cakes. All the kids at school were eating peanut butter and jelly on Wonder Bread, while she ate cha gio & rice. She felt like an odd one out, and only wanted to belong. She would, “plague Rosa to buy Trix, and Cookie Crisp; Wonder Bread and Macaroni Helper, like all the other kids.” (80) she wanted to fit in with everyone else, with their Kool-Aid. How badly she wanted this new food in exchange for a sticky rice cake. “At home, [she] kept opening the refrigerator and cupboards, wishing for American food to magically appear. [She] wanted what other kids had: Cheetos and casseroles...” (50) The strive she had for the American food represented her hope of fitting in, and being classified as an American, like everyone else. As her new desires for American food grew, her awe in the sacred, sweet fruit for the ancestors lessened.

The fruit was an important part of her religion, and she began to struggle with Buddhism.
Bich struggled between Buddhism and the prominent American faith: Christianity. “There is no God” (64) she told her neighbor. She was faced with Christianity everywhere though. At school, Girls Scouts, from her neighbors; she was influenced from all around. She was surrounded like bugs around a light. She began to “regard Buddha as a stand in for God.” (192) She prayed to Buddha, like a Christian prays to God. She would mixed the religions often, although afraid to use God’s name, she began to believe. Her Vietnamese beliefs were now fading as she blended in with America’s religious society. She knew God was supposed to grant miracles, and when Buddha did not, she stole Buddha’s dinner.

“Buddha’s dinner” is the fruit they put out for her ancestors– a major symbol of Buddhism. She grew angry no one was answering her prayers and stole the fruit, as revenge. She ate the succulent fruit greedily. She threw the core away as “an offering”. This symbolizes her disregard of her Vietnamese faiths and beliefs. Her religion was apart of her culture, and piece by piece it was being swept away in replace of America’s.

The American ways are very different from the Vietnamese culture, and Bich wanted it all. Her short, pitch-black hair stuck out among the blondes of the school. She reached and worked to be like everyone else, act like everyone else, and look like everyone else. Which was a challenge everyday; she said, “My hair never came close to the girls on the box, or girls who tossed their heads in commercials... my straight black hair merely frizzed.” (222) She wanted to pack her food in Tubberware, hoping to impress the girls at school. She didn’t want a statue of Buddha in her room, but pink stuffed animals. It frustrated her constantly how the “typical-American-culture” was just out of reach. Along with culture came language– and she pushed full-steam ahead in English.
Bich was fast to pick up on English, and more than eager to do it. Just one less difference between her and the kids at school. She listened to Michael Jackson, watched soap operas, and read– easily picking up the language. Except, she couldn’t remember Vietnamese anymore. “The grasp of the language began slipping away... the more English [she] read and took in from the TV and radio, the less space [she] had for Vietnamese.” (186) She was becoming more and more American, and adopting her new life as less Vietnamese.

Years later, after Bich had grown up she traveled back to Vietnam. She wrote, “I could not have prepared myself for the feeling of being a tourist in a country where I was supposed to have grown up.” (245) Her major realization, after savoring salty treats, being immersed in Christianity and struggling for a different appearance, is that it was a foolish goal to try and be something she was not. “In truth, everything that was real lay right in front of [her].” (247) What she had tried to be for so long, was no longer important. Everything she was, she was. This book really does represent the struggles of growing up in America, as Vietnamese, and finding out who to be.



The town of Spectre symbolizes a safe, simple, comfortable, but dull life.
When Edward first arrives in Spectre, his shoes are taken from him. The lush grass is comforting and everyone walks around without shoes. No one wants to leave, because outside of the town, the ground will be hard and will hurt, causing one pain. Symbolizing the difficult journey outside in the world. Spectre is like a safe haven from the rest of the world because of the soft grass. There is a choice Edward had make, to continue on safely barefoot, or go outside into the real world and accept the pain it might cause his feet. When Edward decided to leave, to make something of his life, the little girl asks him how he will be able to make the journey without his shoes. He replies, “Well, I expect it to be very hard”. Everything is so simple, safe and easy in Spectre. That’s why people don’t need shoes. Life can be lived safe and simple, like Spectre which stays the same. When staying where it is so simple, moving forward is almost impossible. The poet, Norther Winslow stayed in Spectre and for it, his writing suffered.

Norther Winslow decided to stay in the simple, safe, dull town of Spectre. Spectre stays the same, hence it becomes dull. Without progress nothing can be new or advance. He worked on a poem for twelve years. All it was, was, “The grass so green, Skies so blue. Spectre is really great!” Before he came to Spectre he was known for being an amazing poet, expected to do many great things. He became uncreative and lost his spark, there was no improvement in Spectre. Edward Bloom left though. He did not chose to stay, but to take that chance in the world. He never stopped and never stayed inside the safe limits of Spectre.

Our Loss of Privacy

With all the new technology in the world, it is really hard to keep things private in modern day America and in the end, creating fake people. Between Facebook, and Myspace, text messages and instant messaging, any piece of information could be spread across the world in a matter of minutes-- or less. Almost all of the social networking websites require personal information about the users, such as e-mails, full names, ages, birth dates, place of birth, present residing place, etc. I know personally on Facebook, the website made a required link to where I said I lived currently. That irked me a little, because what if I liked keeping that information to myself? I couldn't. Which brings us then to the fact that people will lie all over their pages. They lie about their names, ages, where they live, and in the end it's chosing between being broadcasted to everyone, or make a fake self. Peggy Noonan says, "An odd thing is that when privacy is done away with, people don't become more authentic, they become less so. What replaces what used not to be said is something that must be said and is usually a lie." Privacy has been a major issue in this country for a long time, and it seems like now have a way to keep it-- lying. But how much better is that?
http://www.newser.com/story/89539/what-weve-lost-along-with-privacy.html

Free Blog

I am having salad for lunch today. It has ham, and turkey slices on it; along with some diclinous cheese. I have Italian dressing to go with. I am very excited for lunch, because I love salads. Salads are a much better lunch choice than sandwiches. I am quite hungry actually today, because my breakfast was small. I hope the dressing did not spill all over my lunch bag though, because it is in a flimsy plastic container.

I also have some grapes for lunch. I only like the red kind. Some people think they are purple, because they really are, but I have always called them red. I do not like green grapes, I think they are gross. My grapes are always sour by lunch time though, I think it is because I do not have a refrigerator in my locker to keep them cold-- that would make sense.

I have a juice box too. I feel like a kindergartener sometimes when I drink my juice box in a high school cafeteria, but I do not care. I like juice, and I like it in box form, what’s the problem with that? I also dislike when people call juice pouches, juices boxes, because they are not! Like Capri-Sun, those are juice pouches, not juice boxes.

In my brown paper lunch sack, I also have a fiber plus peanut-butter chocolate granola bar. I love them, they are very chewy. The fiber is not the only vitamin in them though; it is filled with protein and other vitamins. It’s a good way to get my vitamins I need, from a delicious source I love.

The last thing in my lunch today is a hard-boiled egg. A lot of people think they are gross, but I just cannot get enough of them. They are also filled with protein, and as a swimmer, I need lots of that. I enjoy deviled eggs too, which come from hard-boiled eggs; but I was not fortunate enough to have a deviled egg in my lunch today.

I am actually very hungry today, and I did not know what to write about, seeing that nothing exciting is happening in my life right now. So I figured since my salad is on my mind, I would write about that. Writing about all this food is making me even hungrier now, and I am quite embarrassed to say that my stomach has been growling.

http://www.freshcaliforniagrapes.com/

SIMUN Blog

I really enjoyed SIMUN. It was a great experience to get to meet other kids in Global Ed and work with them. I also really liked the discussions we had, and trying to find a solution. I was a little nervous the first day, and did not really talk much. It was also hard to talk when my country – Israel – did not take part in some of the crises. Also, I did not really have any close allies in my group, so I had to just sort of “make my own”. As the time went on, I was not as nervous and got more comfortable asking questions, joining the speaker’s list, and using all the different phrases you are supposed to use. In the end, I was looking forward to going and was disappointed when it ended.

We got through three scenarios during the course of SIMUN, doing one each day. We always went right up to the last couple minutes of class to write our recommendations. I feel like I did okay during SIMUN, I did better as time went on for sure; especially on the last day, because my country was directly involved. The Crisis was on the Iran-Israel conflict and nuclear weapons. I had a lot of fun going back and forth speaking, and asking questions with the delegate of Iran.

As for preparation for SIMUN, I did a lot of research, like everyone else. I tried to thoroughly look through as many websites as I could for each research question because I did not want to be the unprepared freshman. I also tried getting information from a variety of sources, to get different sides of each story. It was not as hard to find information on topics, as it was to try and find my country’s personal opinion on that fact. During the time, I tried to pay extra attention the current news involving my country, because if something important happened, I would like to have known about it for discussion. I also talked to older kids in Global Ed, who have gone through SIMUN, to get a feel for what it would be like.

Next year, I really feel like I’ll need to focus on my country’s opinion on the matter. Because the questions we had to answer, were supposed to be answered in our own personal opinion. It was more difficult when we actually got to class and had to suddenly switch from how we felt about the issues, to how our country felt about the issues. Knowing everything I can about a topic would help of course, and the more research I can do the better. I feel like I probably could have done more research, and found out more about each topic, not just to answer the questions we had to turn in; because when news flashes are coming fast, and everyone is trying to caucus, and debate, it is best when you know all the background information there is.

SIMUN blog

I am a delegate for Israel. If the U.S. were to move troops and secure Pakistan and their nuclear weapons from the Taliban, I would agree with their move. Israel a strong ally to the U.S. and we support their moves. As a strongly Jewish nation, we would be extremley concerned about the Taliban getting a hold of nuclear weapons because of itense tensions between Arabics and Jewish. We would agree with anyone trying to stop them, and hold back the Taliban. As a concerned nation to the topic, and a ally of the U.S. I believe it would be a intrest of our's to send military aid if needed. Those who would be opposed to the U.S. moving into Pakistan because it would be like invading, Israel would also back the U.S. on that and disagree.

The Taliban gaining control of nuclear weapons is a bad situation for everyone all over. It is a terrible situation in Pakistan itself, as their people would surley be in grave danger. The U.S., and all of their many allies would also be a serious target. The idea of a terrorist group possessing nuclear weaopns just spells out bad news. It is necessary to take all possible and safe action to decrease the chance of the Taliban getting nuclear weapons, and to also secure the Pakistani goverment in order to prevent this situation from happening again.

This could also be bad, because what happens if Al Qadea suddenly decides to take after the Taliban and invade a country to take over nuclear weapons? It could start a disastrous trend of nuclear weapons falling into the wrong hands. All steps need to be taken to keep Pakistan safe, and getting the Taliban out, in order to save many lives, homes, communities, and countries themselves.

Free Write Blog: Stealing Buddha's Dinner

In the book, Stealing Buddha's Dinner, it is a memoir of a Vietnamese girl struggling to be, what she believes is a true American girl. Food plays a major role in this story. The Vietnamese food Bich was used to is nothing like the new food she experiences in America (she lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan, which is cool because it is so close to where we live). She becomes addicted to all the sweets, candy, pop, sugars, chips, ice cream, and everything America sells. She falls in love with all food American. The longer she lives in America, the more food she consumes, the less she enjoys of her grandma's Vietnamese food.
The more English she speaks, the more American TV shows she watches, the less she can remember her Vietnamese language. Her culture is slowly slipping away, as her strive to be American grows. All of her friends, are white and blonde, and have house-wife moms that slave in the kitchen all day making steaks, Tollhouse cookies, Betty Crocker Cakes, and Stouffer meals. Bich eats cha-gio or whatever else her grandma prepares with straigh-up Vietnamese ingrediants. She wants more than anything to eat the moist Tollhouse cookies, and learn how to cut a steak. In her book, she frequently describes dreams of all the wonderful name-brand foods. She reads books like Little House on the Prarie, and imagines American settlement life, instead of going to Vietnamese parties.
She begins to pray to Buddha as if he were the Catholic God. Angry he won't reply, she steals a sacred plum set out for Buddha and her ancestors and eats it (hence the title, Stealing Buddha's Dinner). But I feel like the title goes farther than that. She didn't just disregard, disrespect and test her relgion, her faith, and culture-- but she ate it. She destroyed what she had always known between her teeth, for American culture. Her strive to fit in, and be American over won her Vietnamese mind.

Writing Strategies Blog

It was pitch black. I could hear voices of my companions. I did not know where they were though. Twigs snapped. People rushed by bushes. I was scared. Would we get caught? What would happen if we did? Then I heard it, and my heart stopped beating. The front door to the house we were TP-ing swung open, and a very angry man walked out. Fear bubbled up inside of me; I didn't know what to do next; run? Hide? Suddenly, I could hear it in the distance; I could hear the sirens. Just as I knew they would, they began to come into our neighborhood. I scanned the yard for my friends, they had to be around here somewhere. They wouldn't have left me, they couldn't have left me. But did they? I couldn't find anyone, and so my instincts took over-- I ran. I only managed to take a couple of strides before I tripped and fell to the ground hard. I heard a loud, "OW! Watch it dude!" and I knew right away it was Jimmy. I looked harder and saw it was all my friends, hiding underneath one of the low bushes; Jimmy had his foot hanging out. I decided laying in the cold dirt was better than staying out in the open. Quickly, I dropped down next to him. I curled up as small as I could, hoping not to be seen. Could they take you into jail for TPing? Oh man, if my dad has to come pick me up from jail, I'll be grounded forever!

Lights flashing, and sirens blaring, the police car pulled into the driveway. Our toilet paper rolls still sat on the driveway where we had dropped them. Oh no! Evidence! The police officer looked around at all the toilet paper dangling from the trees, and the basketball net. It covered all the bushes and the railings on the porch. We even wrapped the toilet paper around his car. The poilce officer grunted, grapped his flashlight out of his belt, and began to look around the yard. He stopped right in front of the bush we were hiding under, not suprisingly. The light passed over Jimmy's shiny new Nike's. "Okay now kids, come on out. I can see your shoe," he said gruffly. I could hear Jimmy curse under his breath. Nervous and unwillingly, the four of us got up and stood in front of the officer.
"This is considered trespassing and damage of property now, do you know that?" he droned, "Tomorrow morning you will all come back here and clean up this nice man's yard." Lips trembling, knees knocking, we all nodded our heads, too scared to speak.
"I won't press charges as long as I get an honest promise it will not happen again," said the man who's house we TP-ed.
"We promise! We promise!" the four of us yelled simultaneously.
The police man took us to his car, shiny and frightening, and we got in. He drove us each home, in utter silence.

My parents freaked out-- of course and I was grounded for a long time. I learned something very important that night though: do not bring Jimmy TP-ing with you, cause he never hides his feet.