I must flee

Never look back.

It pursues me

Wants to suck me back

Into the dark

Into it’s world.

This journey I have taken

Must come to an end

I must flee this world

Leave this journey behind.

My flight from this world

My flight back home

Was almost like magic.

I was carried back to myself

Back to my world

By my magic flight

I was transported and transformed

I have come to the end of my journey.

I took the first step

I crossed that threshold

And I took my magic flight away from the dark.

Back to my own self.

        I have not narrowed my two main choices for what to do my final project on yet. I have been bouncing ideas around for about a week, and have only come up with two that I really like, and would actually enjoy doing. At first I wanted to do something on profound Christian moments in literature, but one day I sat down to gather my thoughts about that idea, and I really was not all that thrilled with it. So I had to throw that out.

         The two choices that I came up with are to write a short story using the monomyths and archetypes. However, I have no idea what I would write it about yet. I have not made it that far with that idea.

        My other idea was to do my project on how the literature we have studied this semester relates to my own life. Alot of what we learned about the monomyth and archetypes really made me think about my own life, and how it reflected these ideas. I also connected very strongly with some of the literature we studied, such as The Color Purple, and Siddhartha. Not so much that I have ever had experience such as these, but in a way I kind of did. I read both of these books for the first time around 12 years old, and instantly fell in love with them both. I continued to re-read them over the years. They always made me re-think my life, and need to make a change. They were and inspiration for me at times.

        I also was thinking about my strong reaction to Middlesex. I am not a transgender person, but this story really touched me. I am always trying to find myself and get a better sense of who I am and my identity. I felt like this story was the ultimate story about finding yourself and yout true identity. I felt like I could have very well been Callie, just her confused thought about her sexuality were not so far from my own at her age (apart from the fact that she’s a transgender-thats where the similarities stop). Her love for the Obscure Object and the feeling that drug up in Cal was something I went through also. But today, I am pretty confident in the sexual identity I have chose as a bisexual woman, who is engaged to a man.

        Whenever I watched The Lion King, I found myself bawling when Mufasa died. I can’t ever remember crying at that part whenever I was younger. This was my favorite movie for years as a child. I relate to Simba running away and immersing himself in a new life. That is sort of what I did when I went away to college. My mother and I do not get along, so college was my way to flee her and never look back. Which I did pretty well the first two years, but more recently I have realized my mistake ( dude to a good friend), and have been trying to patch things up with my family.

        I think due to the fact I could go on for awhile about how all the literature we studied relates to my own life, I think I found what my final project is going to be on.  

         I choose this song to go with the blog about telling stories because this is a great song, and tells a story about the music dieing. I don’t know about all of you, but I think I would be lost if the music died. I relate my life to so many songs. I have certain songs that can pick me up outta a bad day in a instant. I have certain songs I listen to when I am feeling sad, alone, happy, loving, etc….it’s wild how you can go through every stage of your life, and have a song that you will always relate it to.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAsV5-Hv-7U

        Our lives in their own way are literature, because we tell the story of our lives through narratives. Diaries. Journals. Blogs. Stories to our friends about the crazy week-end we had. Facebook and Twitter updates. Even the tattoos we put on our body. They all are ways of telling the story that is our life.

        However, sometimes we are not entirely truthful about the things that happen in our stories. We feel the need to embellish them, make ourselves and our lives seem more interesting. Sometimes we can get caught in our “embellishments”. Say you tell the same story to two people, but you embellish one more than the other. We all do it. Well, it may come back to bite you in the ass.

          But, we all embellish stories at one point or another. Sometimes the more a story gets told, the more wilder it becomes. Kind of like that game you used to play as a kid, where you would start off with an original message and pass it down the line, to see how much it changed at the end of the line. Things like that can happen to the stories in our lives.

          But if we did not tell stories about our lives, I do not think people would have a very good sense of who they are. We tend to tell the stories that are important to who we are and how we live our lives, and how we would like to be seen living our lives. We tend to omit the stories that do not portray us the way we would like. We leave out the stories that also do not portray us in a favorable manner, or we will “embellish” the story to make ourselves seem more favorable. 

      There are many reasons we tell our stories. There are many ways that we tell the stories, or even the same story. We will always try to make ourselves seem more favorable through our stories. But we can also learn things about ourselves through our life narratives. We can work out present problems from similar past situations. Literature is an everyday part of our lives, we just need to know where to look for it; in our stories.

      Flash fiction is a short story, usually from 300 to 1000 words. Flash fiction stories usually have a beginning, the climax, and the end. It is not very detailed, but gets more to the point. Flash fiction is good for people whp do not have the patience to write a novel…like me! Flash fiction also usually leads to a great story, because there is less time to develop the plot, it must happen right away.

          I was thinking about flash fiction storied I used to love when I was little. Grimm’s fairy tales were definately some of my favorites, but I also think that they are some of the most famous flash fiction stories. I also thought about the stories by H.P. Lovecraft, which I would read when I got depressed. Some of Edgar Allan Poe’s work could be considered flash fiction.

       My favorite flash fiction story, was A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner. The woman is in love with her neighbor, and everyday she finds some excuse for him to do things for her. Then one day, he disappears. After Emily dies, the townspeople find the neighbors body in a bedroom upstairs; more, what remains of the body. And beside the body is a imprint where Emily has clearly laid, and a single gray hair on the pillow. I read this story many many times in highschool, and I really loved Emily’s idea of “forever” with the man she loves. It was twisted.

Ma Vie en Rose - Ludo loving his Pam doll was like Celie and Shug’s love. he loved Pam but she was a doll so he could not really know her, but knew thats what he wanted. He wanted so bad to be part of her world and be with her.

Billy Elliot – Did not see that ending coming. I definately thought that his father and brother were not going to allow him to ever be in ballet. Both his father and brother were the definition of hegemonic masculinity. But Billy did not want to do bowing, which they were trying to make him do. He wanted to do ballet. Billy was not acting his gender correctly. However, I was very excited with the ending, because he got to be himself and do what he wanted, with the support of his family.

I never felt quite right

Never the same as everyone else.

I do not understand.

I feel like two people

Trapped in this one body,

Two Spirits

A man

And

A woman.

I am not the same

As everyone else

I feel as if I understand more

About myself

And the world.

I can do more

I can be more

I love my Two Spirits

They do not conflict.

They mesh completely

They make me who I am

these Two Spirits

I am unique.

I and my

Two Spirits.

        I was really excited to see we would be discussing queer theory in this class this semester, because I am taking a sociology class all about queer theory. It really is amazing how long homosexual behavior (by todays standards) has been around. But really, before the twentieth century, “homosexuality” was not even a word, let alone a means of identifying oneself. “Homosexuality has been conceived of as an innate or acquired identity only in the last century and a half” (Meem, Gibson, Alexander, 2010, p.11). In many ancient civilizations, “homosexual” behavior was perfectly normal and a major part of their society. in ancient Greece, “the social and sexual relationship between an older man and a youth represented the ideal form of love” (Meem et al. 2010, p. 12). Really, until heterosexuality became a social concept and began being a way of identifying oneself sexually, homosexuality was not a social concept, or even that deviant really.

         I had never heard the story of Fred Martinez until this class, however. After reading about his story, I found myself deeply saddened and disturbed. I also found myself cursing the asshole who was this close minded and ignorant to do such a horrible thing to such a unique person. And then I began thinking about the impact it must have had on his community…and community who held his two-spirits in high regard, and had done so for centuries. “in traditional Native society it is that gender flexibility in any individual is welcomed as a rare and precious aspect of human experience, a special talent to live life in a fresh, spontaneously authentic way that enriches and empowers the lives of all in the community. It is a lasting testament to the psychological sophistication of Native tribes that they recognized two-spirit people as being engines of creativity, change and innovation” (Calimach, 2000, par 14). Fuck yes, this is a lasting testament to the psychological sophistication of Native tribes! And to think they are the Native tribe of our beautiful country! So how did these two cultures come away with two compltetly different views on the same thing that naturally happens in both cultures?

         That was something else I absolutely loved: The fact that in these native tribes, two-spirits are believed to be born that way. This is something our culture has been highly debated. “Terry Calling Eagle, a Lakota man, recounts: “Winktes have to be born that way. People know that a person is going to become a winkte very early in his life.”(Calimach, 2000, par 9). I loved that whole idea to death, and I love that it is a century old concept. These two spirit people were revered highly in their society. And one of them, named Fred Martinez, was brutally murdered, because of who he was.

       Homosexuality and heterosexuality alike are modern concepts. They are also modern ways of identifying people sexually. People are not taught to be heterosexual; they are taught to be anything but heterosexual. And we all know that homosexuality is considered deviant in our culture and society. If only mainstream America held the views of our Native tribes, I think we would all be in a better place.

Andrew Calimach, World History of Male Love, “Homosexual Traditions”, The Two-Spirit Traditon, 2000 <http://www.gay-art-history.org/gay-history/gay-customs/native-american-homosexuality/two-spirit-native-american-gay.html>

Meem, D., Gibson, M., Alexander J. (2010). Finding Out. Sage Publications; Thousand Oaks, California.

I refuse to give in

I refuse to go back

I refuse to return to where I once was

It is better here.

I am better here.

And I will fight

To stay in this new found place

I will stay strong.

I will not give in.

And I

Will Never Return.

        The Refusal of Return is the first part of the Stage of Return. Having their new knowledge they obtained on their journey, the hero does not want to return to their old world. They do not think the old world will understand or accept the new knowledge they have gained. The hero may want to stay in the new world, where they are comfortable with all they have done and all they have learned.

         In The Lion King, after Nala finds Simba, she tries to convince him to return to their old home. However, Simba does not want to return to his old home, because he does not think everyone will understand what happened. He thinks they will think that Simba was responsible for Mufassa’s death. Simba wants to stay in his new home with Timon and Pumba, and live according to Hakunna Matata. He does not think the others will understand the knowledge Simba now has.

          In The Color Purple, Celie does not want to return home after Shug leaves her for the younger man from her band. Celie does not think that people will understand her love for Shug.

         In the first Harry Potter book, Harry does not want to return back to the Muggle world after his year at Hogwarts. He does not think that his aunt and uncle (who already do not like, accept or understand him as it is) will dislike him even more. They will not understand or accept the things he saw, did and learned at Hogwarts. Harry wants to stay where he feels safe, understood and loved, at Hogwarts.  

         Like the other stages, Refusal of the Return shows up in almost every hero’s journey story that there is. The hero thinks that the old world is not ready for the ultimate boon (the knowledge attained in the new world). He does not think that the knowledge will be accepted or understood. The hero wants to stay in the new world, but knows he cannot.

A poem I found that I felt echoed this concept was The Return by Tadeusz Ròzewicz

Suddenly the window will open
and Mother will call
it’s time to come in

the wall will part
I will enter heaven in muddy shoes

I will come to the table
and answer questions rudely

I am all right leave me
alone. Head in hand I
sit and sit. How can I tell them
about that long
and tangled way.

Here in heaven mothers
knit green scarves

flies buzz

Father dozes by the stove
after six days’ labour.

No–surely I can’t tell them
that people are at each
other’s throats.

Translated by Adam Czerniawski

Tadeusz Ròzewicz