"Dont Stay Under"

Sophie Iannone

“Don’t Stay Under”

I never looked at the ocean as an offender.

That’s why when I trotted down to the edge of the dry sand, I didn’t glance back for her approval before ripping off my jeans and plunging into the salty wash and weed. My mother, golden tresses spilling over her shoulders before being sucked away by the lungs of the land, warned me about the sea when I was younger.

Her voice, usually the melody of a rescue siren, was reduced to barely more than a muffled whisper behind the crash of the churning waves, furiously shoving my body away from the shore. “The ocean could swallow you in one gulp,” she used to whisper with hinging fright in her voice.  Knee deep, I recalled how I didn’t know if she told me this to keep me safe or to remind me of just how small we are compared to the vast, haunting world.

But by the time I had contemplated this thoroughly, I was already 5 feet deep in icy tides and strong current sucking me into the ocean. I should have listened to her sooner, before she was screaming for me to swim closer to the shore. Before the tide pulled me out another foot. Before the effort I made to come closer to the beach left my limbs feeling nearly too heavy to tread.

My feet parted the grainy bottom with the push of one meager inhaling wave. What had I gotten myself into? My mom shrieked for me to swim back, but as hard as I pulled I could not  free myself from the mistake I had made. I felt panic begin to fill my collapsing lungs, rising up to my head and into my arms. I was stuck.

The waves were violent and each time one hit me it threw me under the water with so much force and so little warning that I was gasping for air the second my lips left the water.

Facing the shore, I forcefully thrashed in the salty serum, desiring more than anything to be back in my mother’s safe embrace, but I could not think about her now. It was up to me to pull myself out of the depth and away from the impending volcanic mountain of water grabbing at the shore from behind me. I gasped for breath before the next slap in the back.

The wave plowed over my desperately thrashing body, struggling to break through the churning surface. I stayed under for first one, then two, then four seconds, then 6, then 8, but the flood was so murky above me that the surface was gone and I was trapped in a burnt-black vortex. My mind was completely blank. My lungs began to crave the air more with each lingering second. The only thing I remember thinking before white flooded into my eyes was "I can't die. I can't die. Not here. Not cold and limp. I cannot die in front of my mother."

Everything went black and smooth and quiet. I felt last bubbles of air escape from my lungs. My arms stopped reaching for the quiet grey air on the cusp of the water. I couldn't move. The only thing that existed in that moment was the water and me, falling deeper, deeper. My chest sank down to the floor, where the sound of the rumbling sand and crashing waves filled in the absences of my other senses. It is said that when you die, hearing is the last to go.

But with the bang of another swirling tide, the throbbing in my head ceased long enough for me to cup my hands and push away puddles that I was running to catch just minutes before. “Save yourself, clean up your mess. Bob to the surface long enough to scream ‘I love you’ to your comfort on the shore, do something. Do anything, but don’t stay under.”

Kicking until my legs felt concave and wiry, my head reached the surface of the water and I sucked air through my stinging throat. My muscles were stinging like a lemon kissed wound. Elated as my toes brushed the sand, I remembered how  seemingly meager this accomplishment was, but it was enough.

I dug each nail into the sand in desperate attempt to push myself back in using my legs, and with each groan of my tingling quads I inched closer and closer to the shore.

My mother, dread smeared across her supple complexion, stood stained with shock on the edge of the sand. Pushing, pushing, my knees finally cleared the water and I toppled over into her arms, not caring that I would soil her clothes with salt and muck. The feeling of safety washed over me gently,

Her eyes stinging red, she studied me. “I should have gone in. I should have helped you.” She wrapped her arms around me once more in a tight clasp.

“No, mom. I caused this and I fixed it. I am ok, just a bit stunned.” My voice oscillated as I stepped back, my knees barking at me for rest.

I collapsed in the grey-lit sand as I felt it cling onto my damp skin. Rolling in it, I let each grain prick my back and nest in my hair. Sand’s threats never concerned  me like the ocean did. I mean, I never saw the sand as an offender.

Poverty Porn: Is it Helping or Hurting?

Sophie Iannone

Ms. Tompkins

World Literature Honors

3/11/15

Poverty Porn: Is it Helping or Hurting?

In a recent CNN article titled “A fate worse than death”,  reporter Morgan Windsor describes obstetric fistula suffered by a woman in Africa, an infection in which a hole in female genetalia caused by obstruction during childbirth, as a horrifying condition whereby a sufferer will be “rejected by her husband and shunned by her village because of her foul smell and inability to bear more children.” (Windsor). Windsor presents fistula to an unknowing audience of Western people.

In this instance, Windsor is exaggerating her story to appeal to Western readers, a process called poverty glorification or “poverty porn”. According to fistula specialist and humanitarian Ali Heller, “in the world of foreign aid and nonprofit fundraising, organizations are all too often engaged in a race-to-the-bottom of suffering. Organizations championing [disease] engage in a battle of the superlative pitiable – all making one claim: Our victims are the most deserving; Our victims suffer the most.” (Heller).

Many feel that this process is incredibly degrading and unethical, depicting the graphic qualities of human poverty and disease to an ignorant audience solely for humanitarian organizations to gain donations. On the other hand, others argue that glorification is necessary to raise awareness and that it might help a person in need through humanitarian action. This process begs the question,  “is the glorification of poverty in western media worth it if it has the potential to help someone?”

Many people believe that glorifying poverty represses  national pride and promotes a stereotype of poverty for impoverished  people. Journalist and international conflict expert Glendora Meikle was interviewed by Mawuna Remarque Koutonin for a recent article. According to Meikle,  “glorification [of poverty] is responsible for a drop in national pride. The “Poverty porn” of the NGOs, the humanitarian organizations, and Western media is the problem because it sabotages African’s self-image with horrifying standards of life. This weakens their self-confidence and resolve, [is contributing] hugely to the hate and racism Africans face all over the world.”(Koutonin) Many believe that as sensationalism continues, oppression and racism will increase due to the stereotypes of expected poverty being set for all African people. Likewise, just as poverty porn may create stereotypes for African people, it also elicits the idea of a “white savior”, where Western people are seen as the only solution instead of inspiring people who are in poverty to help themselves. Again, Meikle claims that “[glorification] perpetuates dangerous ideologies along the way that do more harm than good. It tells the poor that they are helpless beneficiaries and it tells financially secure donors that they are the saviors. In this dynamic, donors are told that they are the only ones with the ability to make a difference.” (Koutonin).

Activists also argue  that glorification of poverty only benefits humanitarian organizations, but does not actually help the poor. According to critic Diana George, “ poverty porn leads to charity, not activism- donors, not advocates. Poverty porn fails to produce both a deeper understanding of the issue of poverty and the necessary structural changes that must occur to effectively address it. Instead, poverty porn says that material resources are the problem and the solution, where poverty can be addressed through a simple phone call or monthly donation.” (Roenigk). Because of this, people feel not only that these organizations demeaning, they are also pointless.

Conversely, many believe that important focus  is brought to certain organizations and world problems by the use of sensationalism. Sensationalistic articles written by well known media conglomerates get more attention than well written articles by unknown scholars.  Take the Cable News Network (“CNN”) as an example, claiming that,  “CNN reaches more individuals on television, the web and mobile devices than any other cable TV news organization in the United States; internationally, CNN is the most widely distributed news channel reaching more than 284 million households abroad.” (CNN) With this popularity and global reach, extreme interest is built around any issue that CNN decides to report upon, especially when these issues are sensationalized and over-dramatized.  One should ask him/herself however, is CNN’s over sensationalized message truly helping poverty victims? Will poverty be eliminated because people are moved by the spin that CNN puts on the story?  Or, does oversensationalizm actually desensitize people and create lethargy around the issue? Similarly, because so many people from so many backgrounds have access to  media outlets like CNN, these sensationalized stories affect people's emotions and can get them to act upon those emotions by making donations, it appears that  dramatization, or over-dramatization (e.g. “poverty porn”) works.   Emily Roenigk, a social and digital communications worker for World Relief explains, “There’s a reason this depiction of poverty has become so popular among humanitarian aid organizations. When it comes to profitability, poverty porn delivers on its promise. NGO marking and communications teams are producing these messages because they have been proven effective through rigorous testing. In fact, audiences are more likely to make a financial donation when an ad shows a child that is suffering, rather than happy and healthy.” (Roenigk). While sensationalism might be demeaning to one group of people, it definitely draws attention from an unknowing audience.

Diseases, poverty, and hunger are getting attention in the news every day. With something so popular around us, it is important to be careful of which organizations we trust. Ultimately, we must ask ourselves if we truly are helping or hurting.

Works Cited

Koutonin, Mawuna Remarque. "Africa Top 10 Problems: Not the Ones You Were Thinking About!" SiliconAfrica.com. Silicon Africa, 9 Mar. 2013. Web. 12 Mar. 2015.

Meikle, Glendora. "Poverty Porn: Is Sensationalism Justified If It Helps Those in Need?" The Guardian. 2015 Guardian News and Media Limited or Its Affiliated Companies, 5 July 2013. Web. 12 Mar. 2015.

Heller, Ali. "The Race to the Bottom and the Superlative Sufferer." Sai Hankuri. Sai Hankuri, 28 May 2013. Web. 13 Mar. 2015.

Roenigk, Emily. "5 Reasons Poverty Porn Empowers the Wrong Person."ONE. One.org, 09 Apr. 2014. Web. 13 Mar. 2015.

Matt. "What Is 'poverty Porn' and Why Does It Matter for Development?" Aid Thoughts. Worldpress, 01 July 2009. Web. 13 Mar. 2015.

"Ratings." CNN Press Room RSS. CNN, 2 Mar. 2015. Web. 13 Mar. 2015.

Gertrude

Gertrude: A submissive woman, Kumalo’s younger sister who fled to Johannesburg with her little son in search of her lost husband lost in the mines.”

She is the reason that Stephen comes into Johannesburg and is exposed to this new modern way of life. She is also the first introduction of conflict. She also shows that religion has caused her to be ashamed of her life and lose touch with her family, giving the reader an idea of how religion will contribute to the story. She is one of the few women in the story, and her character is presented as a very submissive person, which correlates to the time period in which this book is written. Her character represents the sexism happening at the time along with the segregation between the blacks and whites of South Africa

• “There is laughter in the house, the kind of laughter of which one is afraid. Perhaps because one is afraid already, perhaps because it is in truth bad laughter” (29).

• “She gets up and goes to the yard. She calls, but the voice that was once so sweet has a new quality in it, the quality of laughter that he heard in the house” (31).
• “I do not like Johannesburg”... she looks at him with eyes of distress… “I am a bad woman, my brother. I am no woman to go back” (31).

Disconnect and Intellect

Disconnection due to the Cultural Revolution

Four Eyes’ glasses

• Four Eyes’ glasses portray the idea that he doesn’t fit in. He can’t re-educate as well as others, because without his fragile glasses he can’t see, and is set apart by his intelligence. His glasses are a symbol of comfort and courage as well, and shape how he sees the world. When he loses them, he has lost his ability to see and feels like he has lost his way of looking at the world. They also give him a feeling of superiority towards the villagers. Without his glasses, he’s no better than the rest of them; they symbolize his education and wealth. They set him apart from everyone else. Symbolizing that he is smart and from the city, they re-education started to break Four Eyes, just as the buffalo broke his glasses.

Quotes

• “That’s where my son is being reeducated. You may have met him. It seems he’s the only one up there who wears glasses” (84).
• “Without his spectacles his goggle eyes reminded me of the dull, dazed look of a Pekinese dog. He seemed quite lost and stricken, even before he had hoisted the hod of rice onto his back”(53).
• “He kept his bulging eye fixed on the ground before him but couldn’t see the raised stoned on which he might have put his feet. He advanced blindly, tottering and lurching like a drunkard . . . and he fell to his knees” (54).
• “He bent over and plunged his arms into the water, groping around in the mud. The blank expression in his bulging eyes was disconcerting”(47).
• “. . . Which sent his spectacles hurtling through the air . . . Clapping his hands over his eyes, he let out a stream of abuse, as if he had been blinded” (47).

Thesis

• Four Eyes’ glasses give him comfort and courage that depict his difference from the rest of the village, and his dependence on them shows his struggle to cling to the world outside of the mountain.

Books

Books let the narrator achieve things and give him courage to talk to Seamstress.

They allow him to realize that his ability to go and learn has been taken away from him by Mao and the Red Guards and makes him understand just how repressed his society is by the Cultural Revolution. Now that they books have shown him another way to live, he resents the people who keep him from doing so by banning literature.The books are helping him cling to the outside world and are one of the only things that reminds him of his life before it was destroyed by Mao. Literature is a large part of intellectual growth, and because the boys were not exposed to it, they feel like there was a gaping hole in their education. When introduced to books, they visibly grow as characters.

Quotes

• “‘This fellow Balzac is a wizard,’ he went on. ‘He touched the head of this mountain girl with an invisible finger, and she was transformed, carried away in a dream… She said having Balzac’s words next to her skin made her feel good, and also more intelligent.’” (62)
• “I took the novels out of the suitcase one by one, opened them, studied the portraits of the authors, and passed them on to Luo. Brushing them with the tips of my fingers made me feel as if my pale hands were in touch with human lives...‘So, are you weeping tears of joy?’ I said. ‘No. All I feel is loathing.’ ‘Me too. Loathing for everyone who kept these books from us.’

Thesis

• When the author Dai Sijie weaves the symbolism of books into the narrator’s journey, he portrays Balzac and the other forbidden forms literature to be life changing as they open a new opportunity for him to grow in an intellectual sense, that had been previously oppressed from the lack of opportunity.

Conformity

When people do not understand

The colorful curving arch,

The opalescence of the human mind

They hide their ignorance

Behind accusations of bizarreness

They label creativity as ‘craziness’

And uniqueness is ‘seeking attention’

And being who you are is seen too abstract and foreign

For people that lack the ability

To explore the complexion of their imagination

But what if

Those of us who dare

To think beyond the nonsense exhorted by society

Those of us who douse

Ourselves in the colors of creativity

Those of us who refuse to waste our breath talking about

Common ideals that don’t matter

What if we are the ones who are really sane

We are constantly told how to think

And we are constantly told that in order to be accepted or respected

We need to fit into a box

Where the boiling red of activism

And the buried blue of emotion

The shimmering gold of uniqueness

Is bleached

And covered with a layer of blankness

So it all looks the same

So all the opalescence is gone

We are not meant to be blank

We are not meant to be identical

And the more you try to force something into a box that doesn’t fit

The more you squeeze

Twist

And bend

The more likely it will be

To crack under the pressure

The perspective cycle: Memory, Decisions, Perspective and identity