"Meggie"

As Thanksgiving came and went, I was reminded of my "good name" as a child, similar to Gogol's in The Namesake. When I was younger, everybody in my family and extended family called me "Meggie". Until I turned about 6 years old, I absolutely adored this name, and considered it a source of endearment by my close family and friends. My mom would always hug me and say, "You're my little Meggie". However, as I reached the second grade, I soon realized that this name sounded too immature for my mature seven-year-old self, because my older brother would tease me and call me a baby. So, from then on, I began correcting people when they called me Meggie and told them that I prefer to be called Meghan. As I sat down at the dinner table next to my family and close family friends this year on Thanksgiving, my Uncle asked, "Meggie, would you please pass the mashed potatoes?" At this instant, memories of my childhood flooded back to me and I began to wonder why I dreadfully hated this name so much as a young child. Sometimes, I now wish that people would still call me this, because it is unique and much less generic than the name Meghan.

The Amish Folk

In English class, we always discuss our intelligence, but do not always realize how lucky we are to have the opportunities to use this and apply it to our world of seemingly limitless possibilities. As I read Carley Mader's blog about her Amish cleaning lady, I thought of Ann, the Amish lady who "babysits" me and Jackie every time my parents go out of town to visit my older siblings. Two weekends ago, when my parents went to Miami to visit my sister without even telling me (or I just wasn't paying attention when they did tell me). I was surprised to be greeted by Ann, wearing her smock and bonnet sitting in the kitchen preparing chicken for dinner. First of all, she wears a bonnet. In the year 2010. It just astounds me how committed these people are to their strong tradition of customs and way of life, when she is well aware of the customs and traditions of our society. I went on asking her how school was for her as she grew up, and learned that she finished her schooling in the eighth grade by passing a test on the geography of all the 88 counties in Ohio. After that, she says, is either on to cleaning houses or trying to find a husband at age 15. At this point, we were watching the Cav's game. She expressed her strong desire to go to a game, and I told her she could borrow some of my clothes and come with me sometime. She then replied, "I cant go. It is forbidden by the Amish religion". The limited oppurtunities the amish have saddens me. They have nothing to strive for, because many of their futures are already decided for them by their elders, or, they have to clean houses for the rest of their lives. Although Ann always has a smile on her face and she seems to enjoy her life, I realize her high intelligence when she stays with me for the weekend and wonder what she could have been, or what she could have done differently in the world if she lived in the traditional American society.

Does "sorry" really mean what is used to?

Sometimes during our class discussions, I wish Ms. Serensky could press a "pause" button, just so that everybody can observe everyone else's facial expressions. These discussions remind me of a pack of warthogs fighting over one tiny carcass in the Mohave desert. Only the strong survive, while the weak ones get trampled, and then eventually die. Manners fly out the window, as the word "yeah" is used to cut people off before they have the chance to contribute their piece of mind. Not to mention, when three or about ten people start blurting out their ideas at the same exact time, the mother warthog prevails by shouting, "Oh, SORRY" and then continues to use each and every quote he or she prepared while the other warthogs groan because they now have to dig for another important point. Why do people say "sorry"? They actually feel no remorse for rudely interjecting incoherent phrases. In life, only the points seem to matter anymore. This phenomenon needs to cease. How can a class discussion ultimately be productive if it usually consists of a battle for the maximum amount of points with sweat beating down people's faces, feet anxiously tapping, and personal character put to the test? Well, we, the superior beings of the senior class at Chagrin Falls High School are warriors. We trample the weak, and hurdle the dead. Only the strong survive.

How Accountable Should Grown-Up Children be for their Parents?

Following Ashoke's death, I think the support that Sonia and Gogol gave to their Mother, Ashima was very appropriate. However, the fact that nearly thirty-year-old Sonia "settled back into the room she had occupied as a girl", seems too extreme for me (189). She had settled in San Francisco, thriving on her own and had a presumed successful job. I know that Ashima was very lonely and needed her children to stay with her for a while, but how long does she really need them there? Ashima is a grown woman, with a job at the library and has some friends to keep her company. I think Ashima needs to begin to be more independent, and not rely so much on her children; she has been in the United States long enough, and needs to honestly try to adapt herself to the American ways of living, such as driving a car. Her actions deem her as selfish, because she has caused Sonia to pity her and uproot her life in California and move back home, more than 3,000 miles away.

Moushumi is a sneak

>After reflecting on Moushumi's selfish acts of adultery, I thought of a friend of mine whose mother just revealed that she has been having an affair for the past two years.  The three sisters living in the house feel extremely betrayed and confused. She often asks me, "WHY did she have to rip our family apart like this?" Since this is new news, the parents are forced to continue to live in the same house, either constantly fighting or just do not speak at all, causing an eerie silence throughout the house, until the father finds an apartment. My friend cannot look at her mother without feeling disgusted; this one action has forever tainted their relationship. I believe that situation very similar to this one could occur in Gogol and Moushumi's household if she continues to justify her relationship with Dimitri, an apparently pathetic "small, balding, unemployed, middle-aged man", or another man once they eventually have children (266). The fact that Moushumi chooses this unimpressive man as Gogol's successor further indirectly characterizes her a desperate. If Moushumi is unhappy, she needs to immediately divorce Gogol. The longer she waits to do so, more problems will likely arise. Although Gogol may cause her to feel trapped, she needs to communicate her feelings with him, so that he beings to properly communicate as well.