A Thanksgiving Day / Class Reflection

I loved this class. It may be one of the only class that has made me enjoy writing. It brought creativity to the before known boring, bland prose. There are few things that I hated more than writing an essay for class, but it mixed my home life, and school life in a way that writing had not done before. There is something to be said for the fact that writing for class does not always have to be dry, and topical. It cane be thoughtful, and about whatever you may want.

In terms of the technical stuff, like grammar, and writing style, I would hope that my prose has improved! Very rarely do I go into papers confident, and even more rarely do I leave them confident. I would also agree that it has helped my writing throughout all of my classes, from history, to seminar, even to music business. I have worked on things like wordiness, word choice, and the use of the passive voice--clearly not in this reflection, but in my other work. The papers we have written were fairly cool in that they were all similar, all related. I used aspects of my first couple of papers in my last expository paper, which I feel has made it that much better. 

On the description of the Nature Log that was handed to us on the second day of class, it says one reflection on a southern landscape. I don't guess that this is a reflection on a southern landscape so without further ado:

As I was walking through the farmland on Thanksgiving, I saw the landscape. and the vast amount of empty space before me. There was a small red barn, with three horses roaming around outside, and some chickens running--probably glad they weren't turkeys. Far past the flatland, I can see the small outline of a line of trees. They look thick, but without knowing, I would probably think that they would end, and more farmland would begin. I know better, though. I know that there is a large wooded are through those trees, easy to get lost in. It might even be called a forest. Since it was abnormally hot on Thanksgiving, the trees were still green, and the ground still lush. Not many leaves had fallen making it seem thicker than when I normally see it--Thanksgiving, or Christmas. Just outside the city of Nashville, is desolate farmland coupled with rich woods. Interesting, I though. 

I continued to look around, and there were dogs barking, and cats roaming around (the owner of the house is a veterinarian to explain all of the animals.) It's hard in Nashville to get a landscape without many houses, so if I were to look left or right I saw a few rows of houses, but I kept my head forward and drank in the beauty of the land before me. As the sun beat down on me on Thanksgiving, I had to take my jacket off--a very bizarre thing for the end of November. I continued to look at the fields and the trees in the distance, but all to soon the sun began to set, and I couldn't see anything anymore. I looked up and saw the cloudless sky, and the beautiful stars--stars are something that I find more fascinating, and more beautiful than anything else in this world. Qiuckly, after the dark came, I voice yelled from inside, that if I wanted pie I should come fast. I chose the pie. 

Homeward Bound

When I was trying to think of a song that would be the perfect song of the south, I couldn't find one that fit well. Since I have lived in the city in the South for my whole life it is hard for me to pick a song about the South that is filled with cotton picking, and dirt roads. This is not at all the life I have lived in the South. The first song that came to mind was the song "Sweet Southern Comfort" by Buddy Jewell. 

Misty sunrise in my hometown
Rows of cotton 'bout knee high
Mrs. Baker down the dirt road
Still got clothes out on the line

Irwin Nichols there with Judge Lee
Playin' checkers at the gin
When I dream about the southland
This is where it all begins from

Carolina down to Georgia
Smell the jasmine and magnolia
Sleepy sweet home Alabama
Roll tide roll
Muddy water Mississippi
Blessed Graceland whispers to me
Carry on, carry on
Sweet southern comfort, carry on

I don't feel that I have hardly any connection to that song--one of the quintessential songs about the south. When I "dream about the southland" I don't dream of cotton gins, or clothes hanging out on a line. I dream of debutante balls, and private schools, and big houses with even bigger yards that are great for playing frisbee in. No song encompasses everything that I know about the South. So, I chose a different song that expressed less of my life in the South, but more my life in the south. I chose this one: 

This is how I feel whenever I leave home. I want to go back because "every person's face I see reminds me that I long to be homeward bound." Even though I go to school here in Nashville, the place I have lived my whole life, I still long to be homeward bound. 

Inaccurate Nashville

This is my hand-made drawing of Nashville. As I was drawing it I was drawing some of my most frequently visited places, and some of the most famous places in Nashville. I would just like to note that the Belle Meade Police Station is not some place that I frequented. I drew the city as I had always pictured it in my head. I know that it is very inaccurate, but this is how I always thought of it. Charlotte Pk. is parallel to West End, and to Hillsboro. this of course is not true at all.

The map that I drew is mostly of the streets, and the parts of those streets that I know the most. All of the named streets are the biggest streets in Nashville with the most traffic. As I was drawing this, I noticed how COMPLETELY wrong this was, but I decided to roll with it.

Hot Spots of Manhattan

There is not much about this map that I cannot tell a story about. I have spent a lot of time in Manhattan, NY, and I have spent numerous occasions in each of these places. In Harlem, I have gone to my favorite soul food restaurant called Amy Ruth's which is known for it's chicken and waffles. Each of their menu items are named after influential people during the civil rights movement. My favorite is the Reverend Al Sharpton--the best waffles you've ever had in your life topped with a giant piece of fried chicken, and smothered in maple syrup. Top it all off with some "red drank, or purple drank" (more commonly referred to as cherry, or grape kool-aid) as the kool-aid for the day, and it makes the most ridiculous meal. It might sound gross, but some wonderful memories have been made at that restaurant. 


Some friends of mine live in the Upper West Side. My old youth minister, his wife, his two year old son, and their dog, live in a one bedroom apartment. It's a little cozy, especially when we fit 30 people in there, but we made it work. Brownies, and ice cream along with two hilarious college guys reading us a book about how to be a good parent tops it all off. Before our very large group we went two years in a row to an Italian family style restaurant called Carmines. Again, the most amazing food. (You may be starting to see a trend. NYC to me means the most amazing food.) We accidentally ordered too few plates for our entire group, which made for a slightly tense meal between the boys, but it was fun all the same. 


In the Upper East Side is a delicious little shop called Serendipity. This is my absolute favorite place to go while in the City. My all time favorite movie, Serendipity was named after this crazy little place. Kate Beckinsale says, "I first came in because of the name, Serendipity." to which John Cusack asks, "Why what does it mean?" "A fortunate accident--although I don't really believe in accidents. I believe fate's behind it all." The ultimate blended drink--frozen hot chocolate is large enough for two, but easel devoured by one. It is just that good. Although you typically have to wait about and hour or two to even get in, it is well worth the wait... or maybe I should tell you that it isn't, and let me have it all to myself!


The financial district was something that my father forced me to walk through. We were finally going to be tourists, and do touristy things while in New York City. My Dad wanted to walk down Wall Street. I was complaining the whole time--my feet hurt terribly because we had been walking non-stop for the past three days, and I had the most comfortable shoes on--I will never again go to the city without bringing comfortable shoes. 


Continuing North I remember spending the day in Soho with my mom. We went shopping for hours, and hardly bought anything --my dad was very proud of us. I remember that one time when with my friends, and a native New Yorker, we got of at the wrong stop in Noho, and had to change trains about 10 times to get to where we were going. I remember walking the Brooklyn Bridge and seeing the beautiful skyline as we walked from Brooklyn to Manhattan, and I remember my brother and his friends always stopping to get ice cream at the ice cream truck at the end of the bridge. 


The majority of my time spent in NYC has been in Midtown. On the West Side I remember walking every day through the hell's kitchen just to get back to the church we were staying at for the week. Every single day we would walk from our church where we were running a camp, to Pinkberry--the best frozen yogurt on the planet. On our walk of only three blocks, we would stop to get 99¢ pizza. Now if there is one thing that I want everyone to believe, it is that this really truly is the best pizza in all of New York, and probably in the United States. No joke. I worked at C.L.U.E. Camp, where we would dance, play, teach Bible Study, and even go the park every day. Trying to keep track of this many kids while maneuvering the busy sidewalk streets of 9th avenue seemed a daunting task, but we made it work.  



On the East Side of Midtown, and Times Square is where I stayed with my family. Every morning my mom and I would go outside and grab a cup of coffee from the Starbucks, and go sit in Bryant Park, and watch all the people going to work. We could walk a few blocks and be at the Empire State building, and walk a few other blocks and be in Times Square, or Herald Square. 


All of these stories are great memories in my life. Someday I hope to make even more memories in Manhattan, but for now, I'll just have to remember these. 

Campus Walking Tour

On the walking tour of campus, I just remember the weather being beautiful outside. I looked at the flowers, the grass, and the trees, and realized that although this is nature, it is not all natural. (This is not a new concept to me since my dad has had a lawn care business my whole life, so his entire job is to make nature look beautiful.) Knowing this though did not change the way that I looked at it. It was beautiful. Hydrangeas and oak trees are scattered around the campus grounds providing beauty, and color whenever you walk by.

When I was walking around, I found a large hydrangea flower lying on the ground that still had its color, shape, and even its smell. It was obvious that it had fallen in the past couple of hours. Next to it, however, was on that was dried, and wrinkled, and very fragile. It was very interesting to see the two in stark contrast two each other. Seeing something so beautiful right next to something that I knew was one just as beautiful was very neat.

Belmont Mansion

The Belmont Mansion, located on the Campus of Belmont University is rich, both in history, and in wealth. It astounded me how one lady could have so much stuff when living in the era that Adelicia Acklen lived in – an era where men and women were not equal. Adelicia Acklen had not only this property, which spanned not only across what we call Belmont’s campus today, but farther. She also had much more property in other places like Louisiana. She was so cultured and clearly valued her social status, which was evident in all of the items in her house. She had a copy of a young self-portrait of Rembrandt in her dining room, as well as a very large portrait of a young Queen Victoria on the grand staircase. These things, along with all the other aspects of the house show the grandiose appearance, and the riches this woman had.

Upstairs in the mansion was the newly restored children’s bedrooms. There was a crib, and two large canopy beds in the bedrooms once again with beautiful, intricate detailing on the frames. Adelicia Acklen did not have anything cheap—even her children’s chess set that was to be played, and not seen by guests, was magnificent. The history of all the items in the house is truly remarkable in many ways—especially since women were viewed so low in that generation. 

A Fable for Tomorrow by Rachel Carson

Rachel Carson begins this piece of Silent Spring by describing the ideal town where "all life seemed to live in harmony with its surroundings." There were birds, and barns, and barking foxes. Everything was perfect. All the farms, and orchards were prosperous, and full of life. This is the way it has been since the very first day it came into being. 


She then proceeds to tell the tale of the blight that took out the whole town. "Everywhere was a shadow of death." She shows us a chilling scene where everything is either dead or dying. People whisper around town, because no one, not even the doctors know what is going on. the complete destruction of this perfect nature, is something that is saddening, yet at the same time, isn't something that we can help. Unlike many of the other things that we have read this semester, this one isn't our fault. Gerard Manley Hopkins, and William Wordsworth talk about how mankind ruins nature, and doesn't appreciate nature. Thoreau, and Emerson both encourage spending time in nature. Carson, however, has portrayed the disease that has covered the land, as the destroyer. But, she does what Hopkins, and Wordsworth have both done--blames the people. "No witchcraft, no enemy action had silenced the rebirth of new life in this stricken world. The people had done it themselves." The people took over this beautiful land, and destroyed it. 


She finishes with a final paragraph about what she has just described. "This town does not actually exist, but it might easily have a thousand counterparts in America or elsewhere in the world. I know of no community that has experienced all the misfortunes I describe. Yet every one of these disasters has actually happened somewhere, and many real communities have already suffered a substantial number of them. A grim specter has crept upon us almost unnoticed, and this imagined tragedy may easily become a stark reality we all shall know." This has happened in America. The story is of a made up town, but there are thousands of places just like it in the United States. This has gradually gotten out of hand, and now the time has come for us to re-write the story.