Although the two works from Roger Williams and Rosmarie Waldrop share the same name, they serve two different purposes. Roger Williams intended for his work with the Natives, and this guide, to be a tool for the English to learn more and not be so estranged when it comes to Indian culture. He also believed that the English could learn from the Natives on a moral level. Although he was very disturbed by their religion, he could not help but notice how well the Indians conducted themselves when it came to each other and when it came to the settlers. Inherent in his language are subtle jabs at the supposedly superior English settlers whom, despite being civilized and acknowledging God and Jesus Christ, are unable to exhibit the same kindness and consideration as the so called savages. Rosmarie Waldrop comes from a different time but is able to identify with Roger Williams, the Indians, and even the other English settlers. She identifies with the Roger Williams because she was born the same year as his three hundred year ban in Massachusetts would have ended and they share the same initials, she identifies with the Indians because as a woman she too is conquered by this English society, and she identifies with the settlers because she also was not born in America, and traveled there expecting to find something new and strange. In her “key” she is able to incorporate all of those identifications. Her goal is to show the clash which occurred between the Indians and and the English Settlers, she also adds in the experience of a woman coming to terms with being conquered in the italic paragraphs that accompany each chapter. In a way, it seems like a part two to Roger Williams’ own work had he been able to write one after the loss of the Indian culture, minus the bit about women of course.
Author Archives: Jocquelle Caiby
Pen World Voices
The Pen World Voices event was something I would never have thought of attending myself, but after hearing each author speak, I was more than glad to have had the opportunity. I never gave thought to what inspired a writer, in part because I have yet to have to have something in my life that completely inspires me to pursue it. In the back of my mind, I know I want to write, but as for having the motivation to do so, that’s a completely different story. Seeing that most of their inspirations came from reading a certain book, I am inclined to start reading more in my spare time. Perhaps something will just click.
All of the writers were very delightful in their accounts but the one author that stood out to me was Nadeem Aslam. It could have been his youthful appearance that captured my attention, but at the heart of it was his passion. His voice had a hint of nervousness, coupled with an intensity that expressed his willingness to make an impact on those he was speaking to. He said that when he read Bruno Shchulz’ “Street of Crocodiles” that his heart started to beat faster as if he was holding precious jewels. I have never heard someone describe reading a book in such a grand and meaningful way. It seems this novel sparked a fire within him, or ignited a driving force, that allowed him to do amazing things, that I would never do, such as rewriting “Moby Dick” just to learn how many thoughts can go in a paragraph and how many images can be on a full page, and rewriting a handful of other novels just to become a great writer. I was, and am still, in awe of his persistence and hard work.
Another part of his speech that really left a mark was the political aspect of it, and how he views politics as being a vital component of literature. His affinity for the physical world transformed by the use of words is something that any person with a love of literature can understand. There was a moment when he spoke about Jihad, when tears literally started to stream down my face. He said that Jihad has a number of meanings to those who know the language; it has as many meanings as a rose has petals; to smile at someone when you don’t feel like smiling at them is Jihad, to be kind to someone when your own life is full of meanness, that is Jihad. But the only meaning of Jihad I have seen or heard is religious warfare. I was completely amazed, touched, and in awe of how powerful words can be, and what they can do when used in a certain way. I really just enjoyed all that he had to say.
Research Paper Topic
For my final research paper I would like to discuss how religion can affect child development. I wasn’t raised strictly into a religion and I believe as a result I am now very open, not just in regards to religion, but to almost everything. I really want to see if there are any hardcore differences in the way we develop depending on our religious environment. Hopefully I can make this more specific, maybe check for certain traits related to religious homes and traits related to non religious homes. The affect of religion, if not solely on child development, is just something I have always been interested in so I really want to try and do something with it.
Reactions to Ithkuil
After reading the New York Times article about this invented language called Ithkuil, I have mixed opinions. Quijada states that his intention was to create a language that was more efficient and precise, as well as completely unambiguous, as opposed to the natural languages that are already in existence. There are some cases where a person wants to be as direct as possible but then there are also those where a person doesn’t want to be easily understood. A language like Ithkuil would force our hands, in a manner of speaking, in that there would be no choice in the matter, just like in Spanish and French there is very little choice in distinguishing the gender of a person you might be speaking about. I also think our culture would be lacking when it comes to literature. The ability to manipulate words, give double and sometimes triple meanings, or simply using sarcasm or irony are qualities we commend in our writers. I can only imagine how dull a poem might be if the poet was forced to lay out explicitly what he or she meant. On the other hand, I definitely can see the language’s usefulness when it comes to politics, which is always filled with ambiguous statements and misdirection. I would love it if politicians had no choice but to say what they actually meant. Overall though, I would say I agree with Lackoff when he says Ithkuil is merely a piece of art as opposed to a functional language. I can admire Ithkuil and the amount of work and creativity Quijada put into it, just as I can admire other made up languages like Klingon, but I could never really take it seriously enough to believe it was capable of functioning universally.
My IAT Experience
I decided to take the IAT today. I chose to do the skin color experiment where it shows whether you have a preference for people with light skin as opposed to people with dark skin. My results showed that I have an automatic preference for light skin rather than dark skin. This was based on the fact that I responded quicker with association good words when it was paired with light skin faces. I honestly don’t agree with the results. When I first took took the exercise it was harder for me to remember which side of the screen was for good and which for bad, and that happened when the word good was paired with dark skin faces. In the second part of the exercise i had gotten the hang of it, and since all they did was switch sides, it was a lot easier for me to remember. I know this because I was consciously aware of it while it was happening lol. All in all, it is an interesting exercise. I would take the other tests just to come up with more reasons why it isn’t accurate lol.
My Connection with Alexakis
An important theme in Foreign Words is a search for some sort of truth. Alexakis begins a journey with the help of Sango; a journey in which he is unsure of what he is looking for or how exactly to obtain it. He allows the mysteries of this language to act as his guide and eventually realizes his journey relates to his family, or more specifically, to his father. Alexakis and I relate because I too am in search of a truth. When it comes to religion, there is a void in my life which I am unable to fill. Most would assume I know what I’m looking for; anything to believe in, they would say; but the truth is I really have no idea. Like Alexakis, I believe I will know it when I see it, and until then, I sort of just allow my experiences and the personal feelings they evoke lead me towards my next resting stop.
Memoir Topic
The topic that I have chosen for my memoir is my experience growing up in a household of two religions; Islam and Christianity. When I was a child, my mother and I lived in my Nana’s (great grandmother) house. We shared this house with my aunt, my grandmother and her siblings, as well as their children. Most of the household was Christian, however, my grandmother’s sister had met and married a Muslim man. She converted to Islam soon after and raised her children to be Muslim as well, while still remaining under the same roof as the rest of the family.
Even as a child I could see the differences between myself and my Muslim cousins. Of course, a lot of my thoughts were minuscule in nature. They were the sort of thoughts a little girl might have upon seeing another child with a prettier, or more elaborate doll. I only saw the aesthetic value of the religion. Being quite young, that was one of the few things I had to concern myself with. As I got older, and began learning more about religion in general, as well as the rifts that religious tension can create, I started deeply contemplating what my family’s religious differences really meant. It made me question everything about religion; what was the right thing to believe in, and, if that’s right, then is everything and everyone else wrong?
Now that I’ve really thought about it, growing up in that household is probably the sole cause of my openness towards the unknown. The first answer I ever gave to someone who asked about me and my cousin’s difference in religion was, “There is only one God. He just chose to come to everyone in a different way. Maybe in a way that they would be more accepting of it.” I believe I was in elementary school at that time. From there, I have just been on a whirlwind of a ride trying to figure out what I really believe.
A Folktale (Kinda Sorta)
Hi everyone!
So this is not necessary a folktale but more of just an account. I don’t really know of, or, can’t remember, any folktales that I may have been told, recently, however I did have a random experience that prompted my aunt to tell me a story about an incident when she was younger.
Recently, I was in the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria waiting for a friend and a strange woman approached me. She apologized for disturbing me, but that she had to because she sensed a lot of positive energy emanating from me. Apparently she is a psychic of some sort and felt the need to come talk to me. This psychic told me she sees that I worry a lot, about many different things. More specifically, she told me she sees a lot of good things for me this year and that i should stop worrying. The psychic went in to detail about how this year I will make a lot of strides in my field of interest or in any sort of business i was trying to get into, that i worry about my love life too much and that i keep a wall between myself and other people due to past relationships, and that i need to be more open to the new people in my life. I repeated all of this to my aunt, and i was somewhat torn whether i believed anything this woman said. On one hand, speaking of businesses and work is very general, but on the other hand, she seemed completely dead on about how i am with love and how aloof i am in regards to other people.
My aunt told me that i should believe in such things because this psychic didn’t have to come up to me and say anything, and also because she knew nothing about me yet was spot on. When my aunt was in her 20’s she and her best friend decided for fun to go and see a psychic. The woman they saw practiced santeria. As soon as my aunt walked in, the woman told her she had a man sitting on her shoulder. She said this man was sitting there with the intent to tell my aunt something. He was trying so hard to tell her something but that my aunt just wasn’t open to it and that’s why she couldn’t hear anything. Now, at this time, my aunt had been suffering from neck and shoulder pains for quite some time, but of course this is not something the psychic would have known. A short time after this, my Nana started having a number of health issues that could have been prevented had she been monitored more. My aunt firmly believes that the man sitting on her shoulder was our Grandaddy, who passed away some years before this. She believes he was trying to warn her to look closer, or to pay more attention to our Nana. For this reason, she told me that when anything like this happens, that I should lend it some credibility because you never know what might happen.