Category — Site Authors

My trip to the Museum of Modern Art was eye opening, to say the least.

Definitions of art on the Web:

• the products of human creativity; works of art collectively; “an art exhibition”; “a fine collection of art”
• the creation of beautiful or significant things; “art does not need to be innovative to be good”; “I was never any good at art”; “he said that architecture is the art of wasting space beautifully”
• a superior skill that you can learn by study and practice and observation; “the art of conversation”; “it’s quite an art”
• artwork: photographs or other visual representations in a printed publication; “the publisher was responsible for all the artwork in the book”
  wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn

I was told that the “Abstract Expressionist New York” exhibit that we would be seeing did not conform to that standard definition of what art is. I cleared my mind of all prejudices against modern art before entering the museum, and was prepared for what I was about to bear witness to – or so I thought.

The first work of art that we saw was what, at first, looked like my high school research project on pressurization and fluids. Two fans, opposing each other, kept two thin metallic rings suspended in the air. I was amused. At first, I thought about how this could be classified as art, but then it dawned on me that it was inspiring, intellectually stimulating, and beautiful. It had to be art.

The two fans served as a precursor to what lie ahead. As we walked through the lower levels of the MoMA, I thought to myself “this isn’t too bad…” You see, in my pre-teen years, my parents tried to force me to like museums and art, and that inevitably led to my hatred of them. As a mature adult, however, my views changed. Even the abstract art had something in it that I could think about and appreciate. Sometimes, the work of art would be as simple as a white square, but upon close examination, the brush strokes, different shades of white, and artistic talent could be seen. It took some effort, and creative thinking, but most of what was on the first few floors of the MoMA was artistically inspiring.

Moving to higher floors in the museum means that you are moving towards more abstract art. The sixth floor had works that were still in the midst of debate – can they be considered art or not? Much of this floor had to do with physics – my favorite subject. Naturally, it appealed to me. Even if it is not considered art by some, it was certainly fascinating. From rooms filled with vector art, to videos of people scaling down buildings, and ending with digital maps of demographics, the exhibits made me feel like I was taking a tour of a truly modern museum.

When we talk about art, we usually associate it with oil painting, or some other sort of drawing. My definition of art was shattered when I was introduced to modern art. “The end-result may not be as important as the road taken to get to it” –Susanna Akopova. My mother’s words lingered in my head as I toured the museum. What we were viewing was the result of countless hours of work, effort, imagination, creativity, thinking, and talent. When you pour so many resources into one work, it is considered art. Keep an open mind, and you can appreciate that.

Courtesy of NYCBlogspot

What has happened to art? Why do we accept Picasso, Van Gogh, and Pollack’s work in galleries and museums? The value and price of art can be incredibly subjective, and walking through the Museum of Modern Art makes that even more apparent. Curators deem whether or not something has artistic value and can potentially resonate with the public. And while it is difficult to define “artistic value,” my waltz through MoMA’s abstract quarters left me disappointed.
When I was in kindergarten, I could have clustered randomized shapes and tracings together to substantiate a childish canvas. Later when I took an art class in high school I was able to define such works with a sophistic purpose. Through some vague pretense the viewer may find meaning in a visual sensation, but I don’t think that alone constitutes artistic value. There were paintings that drew esteem from the simple multitude of their strokes and the depth of their texture, but that is not all that is found in the contours of Pollack’s droplets or corners of Picasso’s cubic distortions; they reveal their creator, whether its their intoxication or their dark and pessimistic take on the world, the works are representations of their artists.
I think that this applies to any art form in general, whether it’s dance, poetry, singing, sculpting, or painting, the work should be able to define the artist.  A lot of the pieces at the museum fit this description. However, there were a few contemporary or controversial pieces that stood out, depicting the artist’s lifestyle and human struggle. George Maciunas’ “One Year” is a breathtaking exception. This is where simplicity, the abstract, and humanity intersect. When I first saw the wall of fever thermometers, Primatene mist, isuprel, imitation rum, cottage cheese, and grand union instant non-fat dry high grade milk I thought I was staring at an archaic supermarket alley. With further observation my eyes caught sight of the adjacent inhalers, and the products project a picture of a fragile man who suffered from allergies or disease. I didn’t need to read the curator’s description on the side to decipher the value derived from the piece.
Other works, such as the paintings of Jackson Pollack combine distortion, splatter, and a violent form of canvas abuse.
It is this sort of authenticity that was seldom found in MoMA’s abstract exhibit. There was a canvas covered with three virtually indistinguishable shades of black, separated only by the subtly contours of the brush strokes. Another work was a vertical one-inch narrow canvas painted with one stroke of red over gray straight down. The names of these so-called artists are not worth recalling, and carry little merit if they fail to evoke the persona of their creator.
The curator should pick works that create a composition within the room that has a collective and coherent meaning. When observing many of the works the viewer has to tediously inspect the bold descriptions beside the work that scavenges for purpose. MoMA has much to offer presenting some works that are both personally provocative

Photocredit to Sara Krulwich of NYTimes

Broadway performances are a sport. There is a sheer athleticism to the hustle and bustle on the stage, remarked Sara Krulwich, the first female photographer at The New York Times. Ms. Krulwich who discussed her monumental venture into photography also depicted the fusion between sports and theater photography.
Here portfolio matched her expertise, and she explained the process behind capturing the climax of a performance, whether a baseball game or a ballet.  You have to shoot ahead, she emphasized. The photographer shoots before the swing of the bat, at the very instance the player’s muscles begin to tense up. Theater photography requires the same sort of precision. When switching between slides of opera and ballet, Krulwich spoke of the difficulties in probing theaters for photography, having to challenge the mysticism and credulity of theater. Performers and directors had initially feared the damage uncensored exposure might bring to their performance.  The wrinkles that Krulwich may capture in a shot could strip a show of its believability, an incredible power that Krulwich uses sparingly. On the contrary, she isn’t set out to discredit a performance but to capture its best, leaving the criticism to the critics.
There isn’t much mystique to photography. “Sometimes I take fifteen hundred shots, hoping that I’ll get something good,” said Krulwich, who reminding us that while photography isn’t a precise art; it certainly requires vision, skill, and thought.
This is true of herself; she is a pioneer of photography in the historical sense. She usurped on the football field at the University of Michigan when women were banned from the field, yet dogs could perform tricks. She made a spectacle of photography and reporting as she propelled women’s rights in institutions of higher learning and established a diverse and reputable career along the way.

When viewing her photography of theater you can see how she manages to perfectly capture a climactic moment. This not only attests to her technique but to the versatility of photography in various settings. After all, Sara Krulwich is as versatile as her philosophy on life, convincing a room full on aspiring professionals to step out of their comfort zone. As she near several students face-to-face at an unorthodox range, her proximity made a clear point: photography prompts bold and unreserved observations, whether on the street, in the theater, or on the field. “You should be observant in everything you do.”

whohewas

My dad and Pedro acting silly.

William Lynam grew up on Long Island, in the small bayside town of Babylon. His backyard was situated on a canal, where he spent his days playing with the neighbor children he had known since birth. William thinks back on his childhood fondly. “I feel I had a charmed life.“ Growing up he had a lot of different jobs, from newspaper boy to fisherman, and he saved up enough money to pay his way through college. He spent the first two years commuting back and forth from Stony Brook as a pre-med student in his red Volkswagen and then transferred to the forestry school at Syracuse University. Here he majored in wildlife management with a minor in entomology. William graduated Syracuse in 1983 and went on to work as a fisheries biologist in Alaska. He lived aboard foreign fishing vessels, ensuring that they followed the rules and regulations of the U.S. government. He went on to work as an urban park ranger in Central Park for the next year. He then completely switched directions and became involved in show business. He worked as an assistant editor for movies and also did some commercials and modeling to make quick money.

When William was thirty-one years old he joined the Peace Corps. It was something he had always wanted to do, but other things had gotten in his way. He had been expecting to be the oldest volunteer there but there was a nice variety of people, from young college graduates to older married couples. The first thing the other volunteers said to William when he showed up at the airport burdened with tennis rackets, scuba gear, a guitar, and other luxurious items was “Where do you think you’re going, on vacation or something?” Unfortunately most of these things were stolen along the course of the trip, especially during the stopover in the Dominican Republic.

The forestry program William participated in was far from being a vacation, but has been one of the best and most influential experiences of his life. He specifically requested to participate in this program when he joined the Peace Corps, despite having heard rumors that they never allow volunteers to choose their projects. Surprisingly he was granted his wish, likely because of his impressive background in forestry, which would greatly benefit the program.

William reconnected with many of his old friends who he had met on earlier trips to Costa Rica and made many new friends. He loves the people in Costa Rica, describing them as being “gringo-friendly.” He also finds it easier living in Costa Rica than in other Central and South American countries because the people there are wealthier and there exists a much larger middle class. This leads to less tension among the population in Costa Rica.

William ended up buying property in Costa Rica a few years ago with one of his old friends, Panfilo, and now owns 99 acres of land there. On this property lie three small houses. In one of these houses live Pedro and Gustavo, two young men from Nicaragua who watch over the property when William is not there.  William visits at least once a year and spends his days doing what he loves most … planting trees.

A typical New Yorker thinks of a walk in a park with a few squirrels, trees, birds, and ducks if you’re lucky, as an escape to nature. Javed Chitaman was born and raised in New York City, where there isn’t much to real nature to compensate for our fast paced life of constant noise and an abundance of pollution. He thinks this idea of nature is narrow minded and even though it satisfied his peers, he always expressed a wanting of something more. After watching countless hours of Discovery Channel programs which spurred his interest in marine life, scuba diving has been his since he was 14 years old. To him, “underwater” isn’t just a word that describes his location relative to land; it is a different type of nature, a new world of blue and tranquility. “When there’s water all around me, I feel suspended in this medium and things such as gravity and time no longer exist. Seconds and minutes have no meaning underwater, and the only way to know when it’s time to go up is when the needle starts approaching the “E” on the air gauge.” He describes the feeling he gets from being underwater as incomparable to any other, especially the feelings that one can experience on land. There are no buildings to look up at, no avenues to turn down, nor any cars to watch out for. A landscape like this that may seem lifeless to some, to Javed is the most exhilarating thing a person can experience. Scuba diving may seem terrifying, dangerous, or complicated, but over the years has become something that he loves.
Javed’s first experience scuba diving was at fourteen in the Dominican Republic. He immediately fell in love with the sport and felt that it should be something he could do whenever he wanted to. It was hard to explain to his mother why he needed to become a certified scuba diver. She didn’t exactly share his enthusiasm about the activity, she thought it was too dangerous for a young teenager to handle. It was fine to try once, but it would take some convincing for her to allow him to scuba dive on a regular basis. What he told his mother to try to reason with her what that she couldn’t understand because she wasn’t there with him while he was underwater to take in the acres of ocean gardens, to see the thousands of exotic fish, to hold an empty giant sea turtle shell, or to feel the hundreds of bubbles that went up in his face with every breath of compressed air he let out. This very persuasive argument gained him his mothers permission and money to take the Scuba Diver’s Certification test. When it came, he studied the necessary material for the written part of the exam and passed. He also had to undergo open water training, which was fun but scary when during one part, he had no air while 30 feet underwater and needed to perform an emergency assent. Luckily, he passed and received his license to scuba dive just a few weeks later.
“Unfortunately, New York doesn’t provide much of a tropical environment that would allow me to practice ocean scuba diving regularly. I only get to experience it on my family’s biannual trips to the Caribbean. It has become something very special to me that I look forward to each year, especially since I know that the ocean is so big that there will always be something new to see. There always will be phenomenal creatures to see, but unlike the aquarium or the television, there is no glass tank or screen to separate myself from these encounters.” Scuba diving has opened Javed’s eyes to the vastness of the world. He can’t wait to travel to more places in search of adventure and new experiences. Diving has shown Javed that there is so much more to see than what’s in front of you, if you just go out and find it.

Rhinehart

In a damp, cramped chicken coop in the middle of nowhere in Ohio years and years ago, a baby was born. The chicken coop was gutted out, and the baby was given room to grow. From this chicken coop came the kind-hearted soul I met a few months ago.

Brian Rhinehart has been acting since the age of five, when he appeared as a young, bright-eyed David in his Vacation Bible School’s production of David and Goliath. Ever since then he blossomed a love for the theater; later on, he became President of his high school’s Drama Club. It was his main passion, but Brian balked at the opportunity to pursue it as a career. He decided at the ripe age of 18 that it was too risky a choice to chase his dreams in theater. Instead, he studied English and obtained Bachelors and Masters degrees in English at the University of Florida. He was studying to become an English professor, and even did his courseload for a phD in English. But during the years he was working towards his phD, he began to dabble again in sketch and comedy pieces in various theater productions. Slowly, he grew back into his old love for theater. He began doing tours and directing.

For five years he taught an array of English classes at University of Florida; it was there, in Gainesville, that he met his wife. For five years, he directed and wrote many plays in the Gainesville theater scene with a writing partner and best friend. He visited New York during this time, and, as he put it, “became intoxicated.”

The nauseating monotony of American Literature, British Literature, Argumentative Literature classes started to eat at his dreams. English just wasn’t enough anymore.

One day, he left his life behind and packed his bags. Friends, family, and shelter were left in the dust as he waved his old life farewell. Brian, his wife and his writing partner were headed for bigger dreams. He decided to go for his far-fetched dreams, and shipped up to New York. He changed his life in an instant, and the gears of fate started churning as soon as he made his decision. Brian and his writing partner had a show in the works, and decided to bring it to the Big Apple. He had graded his share of papers. They wanted to become “little fish in a big pond.” The move was inspired by their “highfalutin ideas about changing the world,” Brian described with a self-mocking fake cry.

Shortly after moving to New York, he obtained an MFA at the Actors Studio. After finishing his MFA, he decided to finish his dissertation to complete his phD in English – pulling upon five comedic shows he directed (including Boy’s Life, the just recently passed Baruch production). He is currently writing a book on the art of Comedy Acting with a friend of his, a fellow director.

After finishing his dissertation, he focused his energy on teaching Acting and Directing in various colleges and theater groups – including Baruch College. Brian is more interested in form-breaking, innovative realism in the theater. He has worked on many forward-thinking workshops primarily based in Germany.

He has also worked on dozens of productions that break boundaries, and is continuing to do so with his new project “The Mistakes Madeline Made.” Among his most popular endeavors was directing the Broadway tour of The Wedding Singer in 2007; since then, he has accomplished a virtually unimaginable amount of successful performances.

That life-changing decision was indeed the right one. He is never seen without a smile and a jovial pat on the back; his laid-back and happy aura eminates and infects all those around him. He loves what he does, and he does what he loves on his own terms. Despite initial hesitations, he uprooted his whole life and started anew. That takes some guts.

I have a friend who sometimes goes by Ronaldo. Of the immense number of people I have come to know this year, he is one of the most interesting, and most honest. I have been fortunate enough to catch slices of insight into his world upon occasion. This is usually when one of his friends from the old neighborhood and the old life, comes to visit. At those times, a stress-filled day dissolves into a laughter-filled night. Memories are always recalled and stories are always shared.

I get to peek into this world that I know a lot about, but have never experienced. Ronaldo comes from an amazing family, but most of his friends don’t. He’s fortunate to study at a college, hold a reputable internship and maintain a close network of people that he trusts. He also firmly believes that luck played a major role in his status. Ronaldo certainly doesn’t walk on eggshells but he knows that odds were against him ending up here.

During the interview Ronaldo shared a string of stories that exemplified how he grew up and why he now feels so lucky. He dealt drugs at the age of eleven, went to rehab in Peru at the age of eighteen and at the age of nineteen, he was stabbed in the back four times. He saw the fabled “white light” but didn’t buy it, and came out a slightly more scarred, and significantly more contemplative adult. Being friends with Ronaldo comes naturally; he’s lighthearted, funny, intelligent and interesting. However, his past is scarred with instances of extreme violence, serious regret and long periods of recovery.

I find most of Ronaldo’s stories fascinating, but what’s really peculiar is the deep love and respect he has for his family. He always stresses, over and over, how great they were to him, how they are fabulous role models and how they are the people he cares for most in the world. At the same time, Ronaldo firmly believes that you are most likely to end up in a situation similar to the one that you begin in. This would mean that what has happened in Ronaldo’s life is mostly his own fault. He seems okay with this, which is unique among most people nowadays. It is easy to blame other people, society or a situation for your status quo, it is far more difficult to accept credit for ending up where you have, no matter how bad the place is.

Ronaldo’s deep conscious has guided him back to a better place. In America the average age of a drug dealer is twenty, and by twenty-one they are either dead or incarcerated. Ronaldo is a mathematical person but he doesn’t want to become a statistic. I don’t think he’s a role model just yet, but fifteen years down the line he very well may be. He says that he’s not sure if it’s just luck or if the harder you work, the luckier you get. Either way, luck is involved. Ronaldo resents the idea of being trapped in stereotypes and statistics and is an example of how anyone can become anything, at any time, in America.

Interview with Ronaldo

**This edited interview is nearly twenty minutes long, it’s fascinating and I highly recommend listening to the entire piece, but for the sake of class time I will only be sharing a portion.**

Syd Miori Gion was born March 3^rd, 1991 in Honolulu, Hawaii. As a child, she always loved when her birthday rolled around, because March 3^rd is what is known as “hinamatsuri”, or “Girl’s Day” in Japan. The Japanese influence in Hawaii is huge, so every year on her birthday, the boys in her class had to give chocolates or other sweets to the girls. She supposes it is akin to being born on Valentine’s Day. Japanese culture has always been a large part of Syd’s life. Her mother was born in Okinawa, Japan, and moved to Hawaii in the 1980s. She grew up eating many Japanese foods and speaking a strange mix of Japanese and Hawaiian, which escaped her as she grew older and started to attend a private school that focused on English. Her father’s ethnic background is massive; he is Irish, French, Chinese, Cherokee, and Filipino. Everyone in Hawaii is happa, or “half”, usually Japanese and something else. Looking at Syd, it is absolutely impossible to commit her to one single ethnicity, and she is proud of this fact.

Syd loves the lack of distinction about race that exists in Hawaii, and the deep bond the people share from the unique culture. She notes that because it is impossible to know what exactly people are, it is impossible to discriminate against them. That equality, which she did not notice until she came to New York, is one thing she greatly values about her culture. Another thing she loves about her culture is the large sense of family. The Disney movie, Lilo and Stitch, about a Hawaiian girl and her alien friend, greatly emphasizes the importance of family. This emphasis is completely accurate, according to Syd. One of the hardest things about leaving Hawaii for Syd was leaving her family. Before she left, she got her brother’s name tattooed across on her chest, where her heart is. She understands that many people find this strange, but she does not mind. Without her younger brother, Syd has no idea where she would be. He is her rock, the boat in a large, dark sea.

She misses the warmth that comes from everyone in Hawaii, but she feels that she had to leave. There was simply too much familiarity for her. Days blurred into weeks and weeks blurred into years. There is only a certain amount of beach and beauty and nature a person can take, she thought. She needed a change. And coming to New York City was certainly a huge change for her. She found herself thrown into a concrete jungle, where she felt everyone was more well-read, well-listened, and overall more intelligent than her. She felt inferior. It took her a while to realize that, while she may not understand discussions about the stock market or have anything to contribute to a discussion about the latest Broadway attraction, she was more empathetic, perceptive, and unique than most. Because everyone in Hawaii must be nice, less a bad rumor starts and quickly spreads around the island, Syd is like a sponge that can soak up bad energy and turn any situation around. She has an excellent talent at reading people and making them happy.

She plans to use this natural talent in her career, and is studying psychology at the New School. Although she knows that the New School has a reputation of being “a fake college”, she does not let this bother her. She attends her classes earnestly while balancing her part time job at Sunrise Mart. Syd is always trying new things, going through one phase after another, but never truly losing her sense of self. Syd is incredibly confident, but not cocky. She simply understands what she is and what she is not. And she understands well what other people are and what they are not, and accepts them for it, whole-heartedly. Syd does everything whole-heartedly. She always wants to push her boundaries, and dives into things headfirst. She has been vegan for the past six months, just to see if she can. She loves to test herself, and never minds when she fails. She understands that she is simply incapable of some things, and moves on to find something else she can accomplish.

Syd believes that growing up in Hawaii has made her less intellectual than the everyday New Yorker, but she has a large knowledge of philosophy, history of many cultures, and literature. She has the amusing talent of being able to memorize a song when she hears it only once, and she sings and dances always. There is always music in her head, she says. She loves music, and musical theater. Her dream in life is to have everyone around her suddenly break out into song, performing a dance number in the streets like in a musical. If that happens, she says, her life would be complete; she could leave the earth then, as there would be nothing else to live for. Until then, however, she will keep living on, with her Hawaiian culture in her heart and the dizzying New York City life on her mind, putting her soul into everything.

Forever Waiting

Background

In 1984 Indira Gandhi’s decision to proceed with Operation Blue Star, which led to open fire at the Golden Temple in Punjab, caused India to plunge into complete turmoil.  Her decision resulted in an attack on the holiest Sikh location in India, and the death of hundreds of Sikhs; this rooted a deep desire for revenge amongst Sikhs.  In response to the atrocity that she was largely responsible for, Indira Gandhi’s two trusted Sikh bodyguards shot her to death.  After this shooting, all hell broke loose, as both Hindu and Sikh extremists became more and more violent.  In rural areas of Punjab, violence occurred on a much smaller level, due to the fact that it was a primarily Sikh area.  However as time went by, the Indian Police began killing many young Sikh men, accusing them of being extremists, even though most of them were innocent.  This left only two options for many young men all over the state of Punjab; either leave their families behind and go abroad, or stay and live a refugee lifestyle with a group of young men also on the run, looking for revenge; otherwise referred to as the extremists.

This is the reason my dad came to America, leaving behind his family, and most importantly his mother, whom he loved more than anyone. The following is a story, which my dad has told me so many times, that it feels as if I was actually there to witness every moment.

Leaving

“Bang! Bang!” The gate rattled furiously, as the butt of the police officer’s gun clashed with the metal gate, echoing for what felt like an eternity.  As my grandma opened the gate, a group of police officers stood there in their khaki uniforms, with their guns in hand.  They resembled a pack of wild dogs, drooling for the chance to pull the trigger, and pocket some extra cash.  Without asking for permission, they ran into the house, searching for any “suspected extremists”.  Failing to find anyone, the lead officer stormed out of the house barking out curses, while his pack followed behind him.

“It’s no longer safe for you to stay here Joginder.  The Police came again today, and who knows when they will show up next,” my grandma said to my dad when he returned home from Kabaddi (Indian sport) practice.  “Please listen to me, and meet with the travel agent tomorrow.”

“Where am I supposed to go? Do you just want me to leave you here?” he asked her rhetorically.  Without knowing, my dad had raised his voice.  He noticed that his mom, who rarely cried, was now tearing, so not wanting to upset his mom even more, he decided to meet with the agent.  After all, he thought, she only wanted what was best for him.  In a couple of days, the agent made the plans, and found a flight to take my father to Germany.

A few weeks later, as he was leaving for the airport my dad made a promise to his mother, saying that he would return to her as soon as possible.  He didn’t know what to expect from this new land he was heading to, but whatever it was, he had no choice but to accept it.  Both were victims of circumstance; never did he imagine that he would leave his mother to live in a foreign land, and never did my grandma think that she would send off her son so far away.

“I will be waiting for you” she responded to his promise in tears.  As she watched him leave, little did she know that it would be the last time that she would see her youngest son.

Foreign Lands

My dad spent the next two years living in Germany.  He worked five days a week, and sent back money to his mother every month.  He enjoyed his time there, but didn’t see any opportunity to grow.  So, when he discovered an opportunity to go to New York City he quickly jumped on board.  By this time, the hostile atmosphere in India had also cooled significantly, and my grandma would often ask my dad how much longer she would have to wait to see him.  Not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to go to America, he kept extending his promise, telling her that he would only be in America for a year or so, and that he would return soon after.

In New York City, a group of his brother’s friends took him in and introduced him to the trucking business.  “I’m only here for a year or two, and then I’m going to return to India” he told his brother’s friends when he first got here.

When they heard this, they both exploded in laughter.  “That’s what we all say when we get here, but when the money starts coming in, things change,” one of them responded.  “We’ll discuss this in a year or two.”

After driving a truck for a friend for a few months, he branched off and started to buy his own trucks.  As his business expanded, the chances of him returning to his mother decreased more and more.  He continued to talk to his mom and he continued to tell her that it was only a matter of months before he returned.  However as time passed by, and his business expanded, these few months became a few years. Soon, his mother passed away, and he was shattered emotionally.  Ever since then, he hasn’t forgiven himself; like the others he too became an addict of this drug called opportunity, and because of it he lost sight of what was most important.

While he sits in his leather office chair and slowly falls into a daydream, he often thinks of her.  He thinks of her unconditional love, all the things she did for him, and most of all the promise that he had failed to fulfill. He regrets the fact that he let himself become so vulnerable to wealth and success that he couldn’t even return home to visit his mother.  Now, he goes back to India almost every year, because he says that it is the only place where he can feel his mother’s presence.  He almost feels as if she’s still waiting for him.  Whenever I’m in an argument with my mom, he always tells me “Your mother is the only person who will be there for you no matter what, so never, ever take her for granted.”

Links for images

http://www.zakatindia.org/Files/indian_flag.jpg

http://im.videosearch.rediff.com/thumbImage/videoImages/videoImages1/youtube/rdhash836/zMYV-0eGjHk.gif

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orHurCodGB8/SyB3P2MbcSI/AAAAAAAAEN4/4JlMgt1tbrw/s400/5.jpg

http://www.german-flag.org/rippled-german-flag-720.jpg

http://www.uncoverage.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/american-flag-2a11.jpg

Who She Was

Lynette Dimaculangan: a New York City resident currently juggling three full-time jobs as a nurse, mother and wife. However, this was not the type of profile her 17-year-old self would have expected for the future. In her youth, she was the spotlight of attention, whether she was around family, friends or schoolmates. She played Romeo in her all girls Catholic high school’s annual play and during the yearly village-wide celebrations that take place in the Philippines, known as the fiesta, she would sing on stage for all her town to watch. She had told her parents that she aspired to be a doctor, but secretly longed to be a singer.

Then, in the 1980s, just as she turned 18, the immigration of young Filipino singers to Japan became a rising trend. She sought an opportunity to be a part of this movement, and without hesitation, auditioned for a talent agency seeking Filipinas to travel abroad and perform. The eldest of ten children, she realized that this chance to become a singer would not only fulfill her dreams, but also her duty to give back to her parents and help them out financially. She began taking vocal lessons to improve her skills and mustered a great deal of enthusiasm from her younger siblings. Both her mother and father supported her endeavor to move to Japan, but an unexpected change in her life made her question the path that she wanted to follow.

She was not searching for anything of the sort when she first met him. A relationship seemed irrelevant, if not obstructive to her goals. But love, Lynette says, cannot be planned. She and her boyfriend started spending most of their days together. At the time their romance first began to blossom, she was set on leaving the Philippines to launch a modest career as a singer in Japan. Although she had intended to do this both for herself and her struggling family, she could not find the strength to leave her new love. The two options in front of her sparked an internal battle that she struggled with for two months. To stay or to go? She could not bring herself to decide. Surprisingly, her parents did not push her in either direction. Without the pressure to pursue this opportunity abroad, in the end, she chose her boyfriend over her love for singing.

In letting go of this chance to help provide for her family and gain independence, Lynette felt as if she had taken a great risk. Perhaps moving towards change creates a deep sense of uncertainty, but she realized that sometimes, maintaining the status quo is a gamble as well. She admits that for a while, she was afraid that she had made the wrong decision. She did not know if her boyfriend was “the one” or if her parents could continue making ends meet for their exceptionally large family. She envied the other young ladies who were making their own money abroad and wondered how she could have let such an opportunity slip from her fingers. However, she soon came to see that as a teenager, she still belonged at home, near those dearest to her. She was dependent on the comfort her family provided and the familiarity of her small town.

She later heard stories from her friend in Japan that many of the young Filipino women were lured into the lucrative world of prostitution. After listening to dramatic reports from her friend, she was thankful that she had decided to stay; her family and boyfriend were too. Although eventually, she would venture into new lands on her own, from this experience, Lynette learned that sometimes, things do happen for a reason. She also realized that an opportunity might not always be the best opportunity for a person if one is not ready to confront the challenges that accompany it. Although she never did pursue her dreams of becoming a singer, Lynette says with confidence that she has no regrets.

Photo Credits:

http://www.hcteurope.com/japan/travel.htm

http://www.webresourcesdepot.com/photoshop-heart-brushes-collection/

http://www.ottsworld.com/blogs/travel-to-mongolia/

http://www.faqs.org/photo-dict/phrase/930/gamble.html