Words of Wisdom

I ka olelo no ke ola, i ka olelo no ka make.
Life is in speech, death is in speech. Very true words of wisdom that pertains to how one can uplift another’s spirit through speech, or decease their spirit through speech. The beauty of conversation is that it can give someone the motivation to go forward. The ugly side of it, is that when the conversation is bad, death will always be the result. Whether it’s spiritually, relationship-wise, or physically. I will apply this to myself by thinking about what I’m going to say before I say it. My words could be food to the soul, or bullets to the emotion.
‘Ike ‘ia no ka loea i ke kuahu.
Ane expert is recognized by the altar he builds. I think what this is trying to say is that, one’s character is portrayed through the way he acts. For example, my horrible work ethic makes me unprofessional. I have always applied this to my life. I will continue to apply this to my life, when I’m at school, at work, at church, or at home.cropped-download-25hg4fp.jpg

I’m Losing it Slowly

This semester has been great, but this semester has also been a revealing of my mental pain threshold. I realize that I’ve been adding to much things to my life, and never ever being able to let go of it when the opportunity to let go of it is there. What I mean is, I’ve took more classes than I can handle and when I had the opportunity to drop out of some classes I didn’t. I should have, but I was either too lazy, or to hard-headed at the time. What I failed to realize, is that school life already takes a huge chunk of somebody’s life. Subtract the busy schedule somebody already has and they’re left with ten minutes for “Me Time.” The sad thing about being a full time student and having to take care of your family is the cost. The cost of being a full-time student, and the cost of living can kill somebody and if they’re not dead yet, I would be surprised.
This has really been nothing more than a refresher. During the breaks, all of the skills that I have obtained during the semester previous to the break dies to mental slavery. It is resurrected when a new semester begins. Honestly, there has been no drastic changes in my writings, no improvements either. The only thing I have found different about my writings and essays is my connections. As a writer teachers would note that I have great introductions, but I lose the audience within the body of the essay. This time around, the entire essay lacks vagueness and as more connections. It is quite noticeable in my first essay.
In writing, every detail must have sub-details. This is not an actual lesson that is a part of the content. It’s just something I picked up on in reviewing all my essay corrections. I’ve realized that some of my details in the writing were not explained to the fullest.
As a poet, my favorite lesson or assignment that I enjoyed was the song analysis. Finding similes and metaphors got me interested in this course. The other activity I really enjoyed, was the sensory details. Smelling food, feeling the food, tasting food to describe them was great. The possibilities of my senses were limited to just what I could sense. Getting to write all of that down for people to understand how I felt it or tasted it made me feel kind of special. One of my favorite assignments was the fallacy explanation of Thank You for Smoking. It allowed me to think critically, yet it stressed me out. The assignment incorporated three things that I love; speech, debate, and definition. Having to define the argument was the greatest experience ever.
I think that you should not remove any assignment because they are fun and essential to the class. However, because of time, I think you should remove essay two. I say this because that was the easiest essay that was done in class. I also think that we really didn’t cover any of the topics that went into that essay. We never really went in-depth on the types of critiques.
Something that came back to me, was that I am competitive. Within the last three semesters, I blamed my laziness on the way I learned the content. I never blamed it on how I lost my zeal for competition. I was always loved how competition brought out the best work of people. The bad side to competition, is that it also brings out the bad spirits and attitudes of people.
The biggest challenge I faced in this class was myself. I was lazy, not motivated, and began to develop a type of self-hate for myself. I began losing a sense of who I am. And because I didn’t take the time to address this issue I lost myself. This is a new me. A depressed, sadistic dude who seems to need a lot of attention that he does not want. In the future, I vow to look for the old me because it was much better than this new me.
I still need to work on all levels of grammar. I make a lot of little mistakes. The biggest part would probably be parallelism.
This semester has been really great. I had a lot of fun venturing into the other side of artistry. Where reality hits me and I just sit there, to watch my failures rise, while my successes stumble. I hope, I pray, that when tomorrow comes, the old me comes with it.
Thank you Ms.Chang for an amazing semester!

Sadly I Can’t Say, “I’m Oppressed” for being a Male

Dear BuzzFeed,
36 Questions Women have for Men is a very misleading title for a video. The video should have actually been “22 questions and 14 comments aside that, that women ignorantly have for men.” With 9.3 million YouTube subscribers on the main channel, I would expect that videos were done a little more professional. Many articles on the BuzzFeed website like 27 ways to Celebrate International Men’s Day neglect the true meaning of having a day like that, and attacking issues that men face, such as child custody. These videos and articles lack research into issues that females have been fighting for like wage. Yet, income inequality is not a result of gender. The final question of the 36 Questions Women have for Men video tries to negatively advocate “male privilege.” One of the females in the video say, “Why is it hard for you to recognize your privilege?” What privileges do men have? These videos seem to forget that the system that has oppressed females, are now oppressing men in legal matters. BuzzFeed should maybe discuss all the issues such as rape, contraceptives and child support.
Firstly, we can discuss the idea that females can be raped and should be cared for, but we’ll never understand how a male could get tied down and sexually assaulted. It’s a joke to be male rape victim. Comedian, Dave Chappelle, made a joke out of it saying, “If I ever got raped, and walked into my home and my wife asks ‘Hey baby, why you so late?’ I’d say I was f—-n another woman.” Sadly, we men are too afraid to speak up against an issue like this. From an article written in 2014, statistics show male rape has been the same for years at somewhere between five and fourteen percent(When Men are Raped, par.1). I interviewed my cousin, who just so happens to have his degree in psychology and sociology. Jack Meridi talks about how there aren’t many male counselors to help men cope with their issues. Meridi also stated, “That we’ve pushed this narrative of having men open up, but then we put them to an extent of how much they can open up.” What Meridi said about the amount of counselors is true. There are not many male counselors or therapist. This is sad, yet, very much essential to the idea that males are wanted to be expressed, but only to a certain leisure. This is why males seek for male counselors. What is tragic about rape, is that it happens, and that only females are considerably affected. Males who choose to speak up will get laughed in the face.
BuzzFeed’s 36 Questions Women have for Men video has a brought up a question about how females should have the rights to their body. There are more rights for the female body than there are for the male future. Ok, that may be false, but, the idea that females want much more rights to their bodies. I mean a lot of the time, the issue that “female body rights” fight for are abortion rights, and the right to be sexually active without being judged. After showing this video to Meridi, he responded with, “What could you possibly want more to do with your body? You (female in video) can dress the way you want, you can have an abortion, and you could have sex with anybody. Now you want to dismantle a person’s free speech for not accepting your actions.” Meridi was so upset that the females in the video didn’t know their rights. Females have rights to control what they can do with their bodies. If rape could pertain to male victims as well, females would have control to much more than just their own body. They would have control to the contraceptives and the victim’s future. If a female decides not to use a condom, she would still have access to three other contraceptives; birth control, emergency contraceptives, and abortion. If she decides to keep the baby, the male will have to pay child support. In other ways she could also give the victim a STD. There is a false narrative about females not being able to control their bodies.
Hermesmann v Seyer was a Supreme Court case in 1996 that ruled male minors who were rape victims accountable for child support. Although the Hermesmann, who was an adult, raped Shane Seyer, Seyer was still held accountable for child support. It was only because Seyer never mentioned this to any of his parents. However, Hermesmann had dropped the suit. It can still be brought up under Missouri’s law. This is completely and utterly wrong. For one thing, Hermesmann might’ve only brought up the case because she didn’t want to be charged or sentenced for statutory rape. Secondly, Seyer was a minor under the age of sixteen, meaning he is unable to consent to sexual intercourse. Where is the protection for boys? Let’s also mention that these boys will become men and if carrying these suits with them into adulthood, these men will have horrible life. Child support is only for men. Females don’t have to pay child support. If a male- not a minor- was raped and the female rapist decided to not use a condom and keep the baby, the victim, if he does not speak up, will have to pay child support or maybe marry the rapist. Under law men are required to pay child support unless they have full custody of the child. In most cases men would have to prove that the mother is not capable of taking care of the child. For that to happen, a female might have to be a drug addict, or an ex-convict, or highly abusive. Child Support, issues only men have to deal with.
The three issues I’ve mentioned before are cohesive in some ways. All issues show just a little bit of how society, or the legal system oppresses men. Rape is a joke, when it pertains to victimizing men. Men really don’t have a say in planning their parenthood. It’s either use a condom or inform their wife or girlfriend about going on birth control or taking an emergency contraceptive. Child support pretty created dialogue for gender roles. By paying child support males are forced to being the providers of the family no matter what.

Catching Feelings

Suicide shall never be an option for me. However, the idea of it sits in the back of my mind—like a shy delinquent student in the back of a classroom—along with reasons as to why I shouldn’t commit to the activity. Excuses such as heartbreak is never a reason to wear a noose as a necklace, even if seeing “Ms. Break-My-Heart” everyday doesn’t make the problem better. But, I can’t blame her for the existence of my sadistic behavior. A part of my depressed attitude and tarnished self-value is due to my eagerness to love her, to express my love to everyone around us, and then hide my love from her afterwards.
At the age of twelve, “love” is music. Not music in general, but, a daily radio-play type of music. Everyday, we hear the word “love” being handed off in romantic movies, inspirational TV shows, and for most boys, adulterated “love” films. Growing up, we (tweens) hear the word being tossed around as an action by our idols, so, in the sense of emotion, we throw it around too. Well, maybe just me. I have surrounded the word “love” with quotation marks because “love” is simply an item at the age of twelve, an item I so desperately desired to have in my hands.
When I was twelve, I never thought about relationships or anything of that nature. My mind was focused on making it past the seventh grade. Life was pretty disgusting in the seventh grade. Just making it past the hallways was tough. All I could see was a sea of young lovers feeling each other. I thought to myself, “Am I really in the seventh grade?” Oh, how I wish I never experienced that again.
Every Wednesday, I attended church for Bible Study. The highlight of those Bible Study services was after, when I got to meet up with my friend, Janice. It’s a little weird that all of my friends were girls. Janice was a lighter shade of brown, with almond shaped eyes that were colored brown. At the time, Janice had golden tips on her tamed curly hair. Her lips were petite in comparison to her subtle protruded cheeks that would light up—like the burners atop a stove—every time she smiled. To me, she was beautiful, but, I chose to look past that exterior beauty. I was having too much fun recognizing her interior beauty. Janice was the perfect pal for me. She was a friend and nothing more.
No, she was a beautiful friend, inside-and-out and much more. As we grew with age, my “love” for her grew immensely. I was in the eighth grade, and she was in the seventh grade. I loved Janice more every day. Just seeing her walk past me, made me gush out a thousand emotions. I couldn’t contain myself. Like every person who’s fell in love, my feelings blatantly revealed itself with a personality change. I went from having a mellow mood to being an irritating joy monkey.
Our friendship was about six months old at the time. How is it possible that I fell in love with her that fast?
On Thanksgiving Day, I seriously couldn’t hold it in me anymore. I had to tell somebody about the “love” I had for Janice. I was such a stupid eight grader. I told anybody that was within our circle, from her friends to my friends. I even told her best friend, Eva. I said to Eva, “Hey, I’m deeply in love with Janice.”
She replied, “Yeah, it’s quite obvious.”
“Wait, seriously?” I said back to her.
“Yes. Do you want me to hook y’all up?” she asked.
“No”, I replied. “Don’t even tell her.”
“Ok,” she said back, “She was kinda asking me if you liked her and stuff ‘cause you were acting all strange”.
Thanksgiving Night at church was awful. I was extremely nervous and scared. I didn’t want Janice to confront me about my feelings. Every time she talked to me, I began to sweat. When she looked at me, I looked away. It was too much to handle.
The next day was Black Friday. I decided to confront my feelings. I saw Janice at church. She was in a parking lot in the back of a pick-up truck with Eva. I approached them. Eva was staring at me blankly.
“Hey, Janice, I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?” Janice asked. Eva began to giggle, making my nervous heart a little heavier.
My heart began to pound hard—harder than beating drums in Africa- as I said, “I’m in love with you.” Her eyebrows started pointing down at her nose slowly as she stared at me. Eva began to look away as only she knew what Janice was about to say. My heart just a little heavier than before as Janice took a deep breathe.
“What? Get away from me,” she said. Away my soul goes, as Janice’s words rushed me out of the scene. I’ve never been so hurt before.
For the remainder of the school semester, the only things that existed between Janice and I was silence, and a few angry facial expressions. Her round cheeks never lit up anymore when she looked at me. She recolored her golden tips black. Every physical feature that attracted me to Janice was changed.
Everyday of my life was miserable. I had seen Janice everywhere I was.
This year she will turn eighteen. I will be nineteen the day after. Every year, I’ve seen her fall in and out of love with a new guy. For once she has had a long lasting relationship. Every post on Instagram, Snapchat, and Twitter about her boyfriend that I viewed has killed my soul.
This situation has altered me in many ways. I am a shy and shallow person. I’m so sensitive to constructive criticism. I am very indecisive now. I have a hatred for myself. Janice and I are still friends, but, it feels like I am committing suicide by being her friend because I see her almost every day and she talks a lot about her boyfriend.
Catching feelings for someone is like holding the blade of a double edged sword. In any way that I hold it, I still get hurt.

I’m From

My home is wherever my family’s heart is. If it’s in ministry, I’m there and I’m comfortable. If it’s in the kitchen, I’m there and I’m comfortable. If it’s at the pig farm, I’m there and I’m comfortable. Anywhere my family leaves there heart out I’ll be there. Where I live is completely different. I live in Waipahu, near the district park. Where I eat Filipino cooked foods from Jimmy’s Produce and walk down the street to get to the bus stop. Down In between the main park and the chronic one. I live in a different type of ghetto. Where my mom and dad had to work for the food in my fridge, clothes on my back, and roof above my head. I live with my working class family who still lives in poverty, but I live in a family who believes in a God that provides opportunity out of our misery, or happiness to our cold feet. I live in a house big enough to fit ten petite men, but not large enough to fit six extra large family members.11267301_10204186712964892_1940768649_n

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My Name

My name is John Paul Ma’u. A pastor that worked with my father named me. He decided to name me after John the Baptist and Paul the Apostle. I was once told that I was expected to be a girl. I could only imagine what my name could be. Maybe, it would’ve been Jasmine Ma’u. However, I am a male and will keep my name. Especially, my last name simply because it will keep me in ties to my family.