A Letter to the Boy I Was in 10th Grade

A while ago I picked up the book What I Know Now: Letter to My Younger Self, and was intrigued by the concept of writing a letter to the person you were before you gained all you have about this world and what it contains. It fermented for many moons until, after looking forward at the path I will travel to becoming more of a man, something within me said the time was right to start crafting it. I know my path is not like those who've come before me or those who will come after, but it is my ambition to see my thoughts reach those who may need to hear it, even if I never realize it has reach them. This in mind, here is a relay to the ignorant, irritating little wuss I was back in the 10th grade, when my view of Japan was through the lens of Japanese animation and I had little grasp on just who I was and who I wanted to become.

The Theory Behind Cultural Identity

This is the introductory speech I gave with my group concerning Cultural Identity, so the listener would have a good idea of what it is and how much is encompassed in it. I would hope I didn't choke too hard when I presented it to the class-on an unrelated note, I learned how to use PowerPoint by the seat of my pants as we scrambled to get everything polished up for the persentation. This is something that, as a student of both the Japanese and English language, I would want to pass on to my students. Anyways, here it is, in all it's glory, and if you have anything you wanna say, comment away.

Want It All Back

There comes a time in everyone's life where it feels like all the forces in this world are working against you and you alone, and mine came on the day my bike was stolen. On that day, someone targeted my precious vehicle to be taken, leaving the other, unlocked bike untouched as the family slept and forcing me to use the 4 wheeled scooter I left behind in my youth. Pushing myself on the rocky terrains as the gales buffeted my every move caused all the frustrations I've held for all this time to unite as one white hot flash of rage. After a toss of my scooter and copious cursing, this is what I shouted to the heavens(more or less): Take my bike, take my computer, take my hands, I refuse to relent! In that moment I realized what it means to sacrifice and struggle to bring a dream into reality.

I am quite fortunate to have many dilligent, hard working people in my inner circle, and they remind me of the advantages I have that I'm not using to their utmost, such as being able to bypass many trials and tribulations simply by being born a citizen. Perhaps it was this relative ease that's made it hard to look past all I don't have or can't do and recognize the things within my reach, however minimal they may be, in my view. Whenever the situation shifted, I always sought out ways to adapt to it and rarely how to change it, mainly because I didn't even think I had the means to change it in a meaningful manner, even when I did. It's often the case that we don't feel an urge to change the way things are until a certain catalyst enters our lives, and I'm no different. When I discovered creative writing for the first time, I knew then and there I want it to be a part of my life; when my beloved perished doing the mountain road drifting she so loved, it inspired me to take chances in living the kind of life I desire, even if that means taking the ultimate chance; all through the day I lost my bike, I became familiar with this idiom: the more willing you are to let go of things you see as key to you now, the more you free yourself to change your world and make a better atmopshere for the things and people you cherish.

I learned this well the first time I was unable to use my PC, incidentally putting many of those I saw as close friends beyond my reach. Losing that revealed what losing my bike brought to light: I relied on both to ease my burden and make me comfortably umb to circumstances, with the loss of both triggering a drastic change in outlook. In yelling those words into the cutting night air, it dawned on me that regardless of reactions to events, time nor life cease their progree, and if you choose to do nothing, they'll leave you behind just the same. If there's anything this time has done for me, it's thrown a a barrel of fuel on the fire of my desire to take hold of the life I seek I know this may mean giving up a few of the things I love, but if it means crafting a better place for them to live and thrive, so be it.