I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE ANY IDEAS FOR A CONCLUSION!!! and of course any other advice, help, or editing. Thank you!
A Frog Among the Fish
While admiring the beauty of my beta fish, an interesting thought dawned upon me. Fish do not realize that they are in water, until they are exposed to air. Much like fish, people are not fully aware of what makes up the environment in which they live. Many people take a look outside their aquarium, by watching a television program about deforestation in Haiti or reading a novel like Things Fall Apart. However, in order to fully recognize while lies on the other side of the glass wall, one must leave the aquarium. At such a time, when infinite questions about our world and its people are still ambiguous, I reflect on myself to explore what it means to me to be a frog. I am not a fish in water, I am a frog, bouncing between water and air and exploring the differences in-between.
My water is one of the most Caucasian, upper-class neighborhoods in Colorado Springs where I attend a high school where minorities may be less than a handful of the 1,200 students. The students and teachers call the school's ambiance the "Cheyenne Bubble" due to the students' exclusion from what is known as the "real world". The "Cheyenne Bubble" is neighborhood where adversity is almost nonexistent. This is what I call the fish in a fishbowl.
My air is Brazil, where I am freed from conformism and where I gain different perspectives. Being half Brazilian and knowing this culture intimately allows me to experience the culture as a native by observing its values and noticing differences. The first memorable experience in Brazil was when I was six because I had many extraordinary encounters and realizations. It was December 1st 2001 when I left the snowy mountains and grey scenery of Colorado and arrived in the humid, green rainforest of Brazil. Like many lengthy visits, my mother and I stayed there for three months, obliging me to go to school in the small town. I arrived at seven and patiently waited at my desk while the teacher scurries around the playground to collect her students for class. During class students speak without raising their hands and talk over the teacher. The school day was over at eleven, in time for lunch. I noticed how despite the disorder and brief school day, the children receive the same education as American children. In an elementary school of a hundred students, I soon became renowned for being the international, pale, blond student. Although I was the odd one out, I had the same school experience as every other child. I attended class where we would write Portuguese in cursive and learned the history of Brazil. It may be difficult for a foreigner to understand what it means to grow up in a developing country and trying to get a quality education. By going to school in Brazil, I was able to compare the education in America and Brazil.
Brazil is a rare combination of a primitive and utopian lifestyle, which I experienced during a visit to my aunt and uncle's ranch. There they live with no electricity, telephone, or gas. In such a simple lifestyle, everything was homemade and used wisely. Coffee came from the nearby coffee tree and sugar came from their sugar cane plants. But in the absence of what we consider everyday comforts, my family found happiness in the little things in life. My cousins spend hours outside entertained by a soccer ball, some friends, and an unpaved road to play. Others climb trees or ride horses like I did. At six, I had the most fun swimming in natural lake with pure water. After swimming I would lie down on the grass and take a nap lulled by song birds. I drifted off while gazing at the green cornucopia perfected with the sky blue and sunshine yellow, united as the national colors of Brazil.
Unlike the fish confined in a pond or aquarium, I am able to hop from ponds to lily pads to trees. Ribbit.
A Frog Among the Fish
While admiring the beauty of my beta fish, an interesting thought dawned upon me. Fish do not realize that they are in water, until they are exposed to air. Much like fish, people are not fully aware of what makes up the environment in which they live. Many people take a look outside their aquarium, by watching a television program about deforestation in Haiti or reading a novel like Things Fall Apart. However, in order to fully recognize while lies on the other side of the glass wall, one must leave the aquarium. At such a time, when infinite questions about our world and its people are still ambiguous, I reflect on myself to explore what it means to me to be a frog. I am not a fish in water, I am a frog, bouncing between water and air and exploring the differences in-between.
My water is one of the most Caucasian, upper-class neighborhoods in Colorado Springs where I attend a high school where minorities may be less than a handful of the 1,200 students. The students and teachers call the school's ambiance the "Cheyenne Bubble" due to the students' exclusion from what is known as the "real world". The "Cheyenne Bubble" is neighborhood where adversity is almost nonexistent. This is what I call the fish in a fishbowl.
My air is Brazil, where I am freed from conformism and where I gain different perspectives. Being half Brazilian and knowing this culture intimately allows me to experience the culture as a native by observing its values and noticing differences. The first memorable experience in Brazil was when I was six because I had many extraordinary encounters and realizations. It was December 1st 2001 when I left the snowy mountains and grey scenery of Colorado and arrived in the humid, green rainforest of Brazil. Like many lengthy visits, my mother and I stayed there for three months, obliging me to go to school in the small town. I arrived at seven and patiently waited at my desk while the teacher scurries around the playground to collect her students for class. During class students speak without raising their hands and talk over the teacher. The school day was over at eleven, in time for lunch. I noticed how despite the disorder and brief school day, the children receive the same education as American children. In an elementary school of a hundred students, I soon became renowned for being the international, pale, blond student. Although I was the odd one out, I had the same school experience as every other child. I attended class where we would write Portuguese in cursive and learned the history of Brazil. It may be difficult for a foreigner to understand what it means to grow up in a developing country and trying to get a quality education. By going to school in Brazil, I was able to compare the education in America and Brazil.
Brazil is a rare combination of a primitive and utopian lifestyle, which I experienced during a visit to my aunt and uncle's ranch. There they live with no electricity, telephone, or gas. In such a simple lifestyle, everything was homemade and used wisely. Coffee came from the nearby coffee tree and sugar came from their sugar cane plants. But in the absence of what we consider everyday comforts, my family found happiness in the little things in life. My cousins spend hours outside entertained by a soccer ball, some friends, and an unpaved road to play. Others climb trees or ride horses like I did. At six, I had the most fun swimming in natural lake with pure water. After swimming I would lie down on the grass and take a nap lulled by song birds. I drifted off while gazing at the green cornucopia perfected with the sky blue and sunshine yellow, united as the national colors of Brazil.
Unlike the fish confined in a pond or aquarium, I am able to hop from ponds to lily pads to trees. Ribbit.