Friday, December 16, 2011
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Why New Orleans Matters #5
We are in the planning stages of our final projects!
Having discussed the bejesus out of this book, we are now oranizing our thoughts on paper and thinking up creative ways to jazz up the presentation. Snacks will be involved, as well as a pleasant soundtrack to enhance the ambiance. We haven't really discussed at length what we will have in our written portion, as we are all taking separate elements of the presentation, but rest assured, you will not be disappointed.
Having discussed the bejesus out of this book, we are now oranizing our thoughts on paper and thinking up creative ways to jazz up the presentation. Snacks will be involved, as well as a pleasant soundtrack to enhance the ambiance. We haven't really discussed at length what we will have in our written portion, as we are all taking separate elements of the presentation, but rest assured, you will not be disappointed.
Serving in Florida
Ahh, the absolute hell that is working in a restaurant; I know this game.
Barbara Eirenrich's study in lower-class people working minimum-wage jobs is intersting, true to life, and yet oddly as if the reader is a visitor at the zoo, peering in on some exotic creature from some far-away land. Maybe it's because I myself am not lower-class with a low-paying job, but I felt that her writing style made the reader feel too much like an outsider. Perhaps it's because she herself was an outsider while she was working undercover.
I myself have wroked in jobs with very low salaries, with lower-class co-workers, and I will say I was taken aback at times at their minimal ambitions and dead-end attitudes. But they are still people, and should probably be portrayed as such. I'm not trying to vindicate Eirenrich, but just saying that perhaps she should have spent more time on shaping the image of the people she worked with, rather than slander the jobs she was working, and therefore remind the reader that the person who serves them their fast food is indeed human too.
Otherwise, it was well-written and engaging, a good case of undercover journalism. Just maybe she should have spent less time making us laugh and more time on sticking to the realism of that which is life for many many ordinary people.
Barbara Eirenrich's study in lower-class people working minimum-wage jobs is intersting, true to life, and yet oddly as if the reader is a visitor at the zoo, peering in on some exotic creature from some far-away land. Maybe it's because I myself am not lower-class with a low-paying job, but I felt that her writing style made the reader feel too much like an outsider. Perhaps it's because she herself was an outsider while she was working undercover.
I myself have wroked in jobs with very low salaries, with lower-class co-workers, and I will say I was taken aback at times at their minimal ambitions and dead-end attitudes. But they are still people, and should probably be portrayed as such. I'm not trying to vindicate Eirenrich, but just saying that perhaps she should have spent more time on shaping the image of the people she worked with, rather than slander the jobs she was working, and therefore remind the reader that the person who serves them their fast food is indeed human too.
Otherwise, it was well-written and engaging, a good case of undercover journalism. Just maybe she should have spent less time making us laugh and more time on sticking to the realism of that which is life for many many ordinary people.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Tent City 2011
So, Tent City -- that perplexing collection of mismatched tents that appears in the RCC Toilet Bowl every November, accompanied by young, often soggy students in various states of unwashedness and general misery. This phenomenon manifests itself on the BSU campus every year around this time, and is met with discontent, scorn, or admiration, depending on who you are. Designed to raise awareness of the plight of the homeless, it causes quite a stir on campus, and is subject to much scrutiny while it is in existence. We as a class got to chat with some of the participants, and got the inside scoop on their motives and goals for their curious doings.
Nikki Sauber, the co-president of BSU's Social Justice League, is Passionate with a capital P. She has spearheaded the Tent City event for five years now, and after a considerable amount of struggle, has finally managed to make it a (somewhat) reputable and successful endeavor. She and her cohorts in justice reserve the space, get all the necessary forms signed, organize services for those students participating, and invite speakers to present to the students about homeless and related issues in Massachusetts and the rest of the country. Nikki and her peers acknowledge the fact that by camping out for a week on a relatively well-off college campus, they cannot begin to know the struggle those without the comforts of four wall have to contend with, but their goal is ultimately to raise awareness of the plight.
We spoke to another student volunteer, Katrina, who touched on the some of the struggles the participants must deal with on a daily basis. They must use only public facilities for their personal needs, like showering, eating, and using the computer. Often, they get flack from non-participators who have nothing better to do with their time than to make life frustrating for others. There have been reports of tents damaged, events interrupted, and belongings stolen. Somehow, the message is lost on some thicker individuals.
Nikki had high hopes for this event when it was first conceived, but never imagined it would garner so much attention. She says that, through no effort of hers, word of BSU's Tent City has spread to other colleges, some as far away as Florida, and she now has supporters who would love to join her crusade in fostering awareness among well-off students on their priveleged campuses. Nikki and her cause set the bar high for the rest of us hoping to make a difference and open the minds of others to things much bigger than ourselves.
I, for one, would love to participate in Tent City, but my schedule and extra-curricular commitments dictate otherwise. There is always next year. I think it is a great thing these students are doing, raising awareness that there are issues out there a bit bigger than running out of dining dollars or being locked out of InfoBear. Hard as that is to believe.
Nikki Sauber, the co-president of BSU's Social Justice League, is Passionate with a capital P. She has spearheaded the Tent City event for five years now, and after a considerable amount of struggle, has finally managed to make it a (somewhat) reputable and successful endeavor. She and her cohorts in justice reserve the space, get all the necessary forms signed, organize services for those students participating, and invite speakers to present to the students about homeless and related issues in Massachusetts and the rest of the country. Nikki and her peers acknowledge the fact that by camping out for a week on a relatively well-off college campus, they cannot begin to know the struggle those without the comforts of four wall have to contend with, but their goal is ultimately to raise awareness of the plight.
We spoke to another student volunteer, Katrina, who touched on the some of the struggles the participants must deal with on a daily basis. They must use only public facilities for their personal needs, like showering, eating, and using the computer. Often, they get flack from non-participators who have nothing better to do with their time than to make life frustrating for others. There have been reports of tents damaged, events interrupted, and belongings stolen. Somehow, the message is lost on some thicker individuals.
Nikki had high hopes for this event when it was first conceived, but never imagined it would garner so much attention. She says that, through no effort of hers, word of BSU's Tent City has spread to other colleges, some as far away as Florida, and she now has supporters who would love to join her crusade in fostering awareness among well-off students on their priveleged campuses. Nikki and her cause set the bar high for the rest of us hoping to make a difference and open the minds of others to things much bigger than ourselves.
I, for one, would love to participate in Tent City, but my schedule and extra-curricular commitments dictate otherwise. There is always next year. I think it is a great thing these students are doing, raising awareness that there are issues out there a bit bigger than running out of dining dollars or being locked out of InfoBear. Hard as that is to believe.
Why New Orleans Matters #4
And so, it is finished. The end of Why New Orleans Matters sort of grinds to a halt with a sigh and a sputter, albeit a sparkly one (if that's even possible). I believe that Piazza means everything he says, but there's only so many times he can say it without sounding like a broken record submerged in swamp water. The ending was sweet, giving us one more resounding chorus of praise heaped upon the city of New Orleans, reasons upon reasons of why it needs to keep exisitng and what it will do for genreations to come. Needless to say, the conclusion dragged on for much too long, as my fellow book club members agree. We discussed it, and, as guilty as we felt, we all agreed that we are not confident that Piazza achieved what he wanted to in writing this book. We certainly know the names of a lot of restaurants we'd like to visit, and everyone now wants a New Orleans funeral after their demise, but we are not sure if we feel for the city. I suppose in order to feel what Piazza feels, one would have to be a denizen of the city itself, to be able to relate to what he talks about. For those of us who aren't it is a lovely book/travel guide, complete with some touching stories, which tells us just enough about the city to make us consider visiting someday to see what all the fuss is about.
Before reading this book, I myslef knew a bit about New Orleans culture and art, having grown up listening to creole and zydeco music, and famous artisits such as Dr. John and Muddy Water. So I know a bit about what New Orleans has to offer. But for those who are entirely unfamiliar, this book is merely a collection of pretty imagery and foreign-sounding names and words. Piazza presents a heartfelt snapshot of life, what it used to be, and what it could be again for him and his fellow New Orleanians. And us unfamiliar readers feel like guests at a party where the host has invited a close circle of friends and shares numerous inside jokes with them, so much so that we consider taking our seven-layer dip and eating on the porch by ourselves.
I sound like a bitch in this post. But I feel slightly comforted that my fellow book clubbers feel similarly. Nice book; weak statement.
Before reading this book, I myslef knew a bit about New Orleans culture and art, having grown up listening to creole and zydeco music, and famous artisits such as Dr. John and Muddy Water. So I know a bit about what New Orleans has to offer. But for those who are entirely unfamiliar, this book is merely a collection of pretty imagery and foreign-sounding names and words. Piazza presents a heartfelt snapshot of life, what it used to be, and what it could be again for him and his fellow New Orleanians. And us unfamiliar readers feel like guests at a party where the host has invited a close circle of friends and shares numerous inside jokes with them, so much so that we consider taking our seven-layer dip and eating on the porch by ourselves.
I sound like a bitch in this post. But I feel slightly comforted that my fellow book clubbers feel similarly. Nice book; weak statement.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Why New Orleans Matter #3
This is the part of the book that, supposedly, is rumored to drag. I didn't necessarily think that, but I did get overwhlemed by the excessive and repetitive descriptions. Piazza needn't have beat the tableau of the New Orleanian family to death; as bad as it sounds, the picture of the stereotypical poor black family is a well-known one, and to put it on paper seems a bit too much. Especially more than once. Something in Piazza's despcriptions, perhaps in his repetition, brings me to believe that he dis not spend as much time with the underpriveleged black of New Orleans as he leads us to beleive, and that he makes up for this fact by over-describing them. Perhaps that is jsut my take on his writing, but it seems a tad pretentious, almost maudlin, to be entirely believable.
The description of he and his wife returning to their homes after the flood was highly effective; i felt nauseous reading it. This was one of the only parts of the book thus far that felt sincere. After all, these were his worldly possessions and his abode that were damaged, anyone would be upset. However, there is something missing in the setup of this scene, perhaps a snippet of personal narrative that was never mentioned, in order to make the pain real. What I mean is, up to this point Piazza has spent so much time writing a travel guide that it seems he himself does not have enough personal ties to it. It is his adopted city, but I would have liked something more of himself in the numerous descriptions of the place. Perhaps, is this book had been written by someone else who had been hit harder and lived there longer, it would have been that much more effective. But that's just me.
The description of he and his wife returning to their homes after the flood was highly effective; i felt nauseous reading it. This was one of the only parts of the book thus far that felt sincere. After all, these were his worldly possessions and his abode that were damaged, anyone would be upset. However, there is something missing in the setup of this scene, perhaps a snippet of personal narrative that was never mentioned, in order to make the pain real. What I mean is, up to this point Piazza has spent so much time writing a travel guide that it seems he himself does not have enough personal ties to it. It is his adopted city, but I would have liked something more of himself in the numerous descriptions of the place. Perhaps, is this book had been written by someone else who had been hit harder and lived there longer, it would have been that much more effective. But that's just me.
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