Pasta al Pesto

52. The subject of food is never far from our minds here in College Admissions. It is a topic of serious conversation this year on campus, too, with the publication of a book called The Hungry Soul: Eating and the Perfecting of our Nature, by Leon Kass, M.D., a Chicago faculty member who teaches in the College. The book takes a philosophical look at what food, eating, and table manners have to tell us about our human estate. Compose an essay about a memorable meal you have eaten. We are especially interested in the details: the occasion, your company at this meal, its physical setting, the kinds of foods you ate, or their preparation. (University of Chicago)

I was 11 years old. I had just flown to another continent, and been on two flights. It was winter. It was cold. It was evening. But I had reached. I was at my aunt’s house for the Christmas holidays.

That journey sticks out in my memory as it was the first time I had travelled alone. I left my departure country early in the morning, and arrived at my destination in the evening (local time). I had gotten very little sleep on the journey, and was exhausted by the time I reached my aunt’s house.

I was also very hungry, as I do not have a particular liking for airplane food and not eaten much on the journey. My aunt had cooked a simple but absolutely delicious meal of Pasta al Pesto to celebrate my arrival.

I had spent time with my cousin, catching up and talking for a bit, as my aunt prepared the meal. The pesto was home-made, and the aroma made my mouth water. We all sat at the dining table, which was laid out for the four of us (my uncle, aunt, cousin, and I). The room was not overwhelmed by bright, glaring lights. Instead it was filled with warm and mellow lights from a few candles and soft light bulbs. The room had a very Christmassy atmosphere.

The food on the table was simple, traditional, and perfect. After the long journey, I could not have wished for a more satisfactory meal. It filled my stomach, and made me feel welcomed. Yet, the setting, the good food, and my family, were not enough to keep exhaustion from me.

My eyes slowly began to shut, and as the pasta disappeared off my plate, my mind began dreaming. I soon went to sleep.

This meal is memorable to me for many reasons. But what I think makes this meal truly memorable was my company. Without my wonderful family who were present, and so graciously welcomed me, it would have just been another Pasta al Pesto. They made this Pasta al Pesto special.   

Word count: 462

Time travel

2. Imagine that you have the opportunity to travel back through time. At what point in history would you like to stop and why? (Swarthmore)

Anytime the word time travel comes up, my mind immediately wanders to “Back to the Future.” To an observer this may seem slightly bizarre, but I have a good reason for this. When I was small, “Back to the Future” and its sequels were one of the movies that my father and I would watch together. It was our thing.

Ironically, for a person who has watched a great number of time traveller movies, I never ever actually developed my own plans for time travel, and which event in history I would preferably stop at. I think as a child I was too distracted by finding Hogwarts and my broomstick to dedicate a great deal of attention to time travel (and wizards clearly still existed in the present so why go back to the past?).

Do not misunderstand me to be a person who does not care for history. I very much do so! History has always intrigued me, the tales of ancient civilizations to the invention of the first computer. Everything has a story, a story that is its own.

The question asked by this prompt is a hard one for me to answer. It is not that I would decline the opportunity to travel back through time; I would be delighted to do so. Yet, to choose one particular event at which to stop is proving extremely difficult to decide.

In my European History class, my mind drifts off to the century being discussed. I imagine the people and their lives. How different some of them are from mine, yet how (at the same time) my life still resembles theirs.

My top five time travel choices are as follows: Florence during the renaissance, the Harappa river valley civilization, Greece under Alexander the Great, Cleopatra’s Egypt, and Europe in the late 1800’s. Even during the composition of this list, my mind is filled with other historical events that intrigue me. 

Out of all these places and historic events, the one I know the least about is the Harappa civilization. The disappearance of this great empire is shrouded in mystery, just as its language and people are. There is so much left to learn about the Harappa inhabitants.

I realize that my appearance in this civilization might cause some confusion, as I do not speak the language nor know very much about its customs. Yet, I hope that I will somehow manage to overcome these difficulties and still be a respectful observer.

Travelling to Harappa would enable me to bring back information about this civilization to the present, and thus hopefully answer some of history’s great mysteries, such as how such an evolved civilization disappeared out of the blue.

If I were to travel to Harappa, I would intend to stay there for at least a month. I believe this period of time would allow me to observe the society to good degree, and gain an understanding of its workings.

If time travel were possible, perhaps a lot of things will change, and a lot of questions of the past will be answered. Whether this will be beneficial to society is another question, and perhaps one that has no specific answer.

Word count: 556 

Those pink socks

4. These items must be included: a new pair of socks, a historical landmark, a spork (the combination of spoon and fork frequently seen among airline flatware), a domesticated animal, and the complete works of William Shakespeare.

In the darkest of dark winter nights, a single candle gave light to the room. The rays of light crept along the bookshelves, reflecting themselves off the objects, before fading away into the darkness. The ancient manuscript’s faded pages were given new life under the candle light; the faces of the creatures came to life and danced along the pages as the light shone down upon them.

In the midst of this apparent shrine to the written works of mankind sat a little girl. Whether the girl could read or not did not matter: the power of the books was overwhelming.  She felt at home in the British Library, a feeling she had only once had before. All that she had to associate with that feeling were blurred memories of sunny days, a country house, and hay fields. It had been a long time since that feeling had taken 

hold of her.

She had no memories of how she found her way to British Library.  All she knew was that since she had woken up yesterday evening, she had been there. The books were her only company.  The size of the room was a mystery to her, as the candle did not illuminate the entire space. She was curious, yet the fear of the unknown kept her from exploring the building.

As she gazed up towards the bookshelves, she saw the same pattern repeated over and over again. She did not realize that it was the name “William Shakespeare”, or that she was looking at his complete works. She stood up and made her way towards one of the books.

She gently placed her hand on its side, and then slipped it out of the shelf.  As she opened it, an image of an animal head on a man greeted her.  It mesmerized her.  The animal was known to her. The old memories of the country house brought up images of this animal as well. She used to play with it, feed it, and it would carry bricks around. It had four legs, a brownish mane ran along its neck, and it had similar brownish hair at the end of its tale. Don. Donk. Donke. DONKEY! The name came back to her.

She was looking at William Shakespeares Midsummer’s Night Dream, but obliviously.  A tinge, a pain, cold brought her back to her present surroundings. Her memories disappeared for a moment, and all she could think of were socks. Hadn’t she bought socks?

“Tring-Tring-Tring.” A sound pierced into the fog of her dream. She became conscious of the blanket that covered her, the bed in which she lay, the familiar surroundings that made up her bedroom.  She slowly opened her eyes to the cold, December morning light that filtered in through the window and illuminated the room. Her feet were sticking out of her blanket, the tinge, the pain, the cold suddenly made sense.

She slowly, sloppily, extended her left-arm and felt the alarm clock. Automatically, as if by some unconscious reaction, her fingers pressed the “off” button. The same fingers then made their way towards her eyes and rubbed them.

She sat up and looked around the room. The dream already began to dwindle into the depths of her mind. Her eyes spotted the pink socks she had bought yesterday; they were right next to the bowl with last night’s dinner and the spork.

Her mother’s voice called out to her from somewhere in the house. She did not need to hear the words to know what was being asked of her: it was time for her to come down for breakfast, the only meal they ate together.

She jumped out of bed, grabbed the socks and put them on. She quickly grabbed the bowl and spork and leapt across the room. Her hands touched the door-knob, and turned it. One foot, then the other made its way into the wide world outside her bedroom. She was gone. 

Word count: 696

Linden trees and conversation

29. Tell us about a conversation you’ve had that changed your perspective or was otherwise meaningful to you. (Stanford)

The green linden trees where in bloom. The delicious scent of Schnitzel wafted out of the kitchen. Grey thunder clouds were gathering in the sky. The scholer was fizzing away. The Biergarten was filled with life.

A regular customer would have walked in, taken a seat at one of the wooden benches, order their regular meal, and not noticed anything particular about the day, except perhaps the ladies sitting on one of the tables. One of them often ate at the Biergarten, but the other three had never been there before.  The four women gave a spectator a glimpse into three generations.

But this all seemed irrelevant to the women at the table, as they were captivated by their own conversation, especially the youngest- me.  We had gone to meet one of my mother’s friends and role-models, I will simply refer to her as W. Despite the age gap between them, they still got along remarkably well. My aunt and I came along as it was a great privilege to meet W.

W had started her own NGO, after retirement, and then went on to wholeheartedly dedicate over 30 years of her life to this project. I have immense respect for her. But the conversation under the linden trees in the Bavarian Biergarten did not have much to do with her NGO. Instead, it was about her life, and childhood.

She grew up in a world very different from mine, in a time when carriages were still sometimes seen on roads, when food was grown in farms, when the map of Europe had just been re-drawn after the Great War, and when India was still the crown Jewel of the British Empire.

The conversation left an impact on me. I realized how little we could truly take for granted in this world.  I personally believe that my country will always be there, and I will always be part of it. In some ways that may be true, but then again, a country is constantly changing. Wars redraw political maps, and nations fight for independence.

Once upon a time, Prussia was an essential part of Germany, yet today a great part of Prussia belongs to other countries. Someone might have once been German, and today they are Polish. They belong to a new nation, and have a new identity.

Sitting in the Biergarten that afternoon, I realized life might change, there may be good times and there may be bad ones, but as long as you have an optimistic attitude and try to be the best person you can, everything might just turn out to be alright.

It is easier to say such things, than actually put the words into action. Being in the presence of person who achieved this, made me realize that it is possible.  As W went on telling her stories, I found myself imagining what it must have been like to live through a World War, and then start-up a new life.  It must have been no easy task, but W never showed any of the burdens that her life had presented her with.

Instead, she helped the people around her, and her NGO was another way through which she was able to go on handing a helping hand to people. The conversation was meaningful to me as it inspired me to live my life in a more purposeful manner. It is easy to be consumed by one’s own troubles, but there is so much one can do with one’s life, therefore one should try to do as much as one can with it.

A spectator may have just seen four women eating lunch under the linden in the Biergarten, yet for me it was much more than an ordinary lunch. It was an inspirational afternoon that influenced my views on life. As the scholer was fizzing away, my perspective on life was being influenced by a remarkable person, W.

Word count: 668

My favorite cake

Cakes mean different things to different people. The word may bring up an image of a chocolate cake in some people’s minds, where as it might make some people think of Chinese moon cakes.  According to the Oxford dictionary, a cake is an item of soft sweet food made from a mixture of flour, fat, eggs, sugar, and other ingredients, baked and sometimes iced or decorated.

According to me, a cake is the same thing. But a cake is not only an object that fills the stomach; it is also something that carries meaning and memories. White icing and stacked cakes conjure up images of weddings, their extravagance, and happy couples. Chocolate cakes bring to my mind Sacha-Torten, birthday parties, and fancy restaurants.

Cakes are a platform for creativity. Pretty much any combination of ingredients can be put into a cake, and in various different ratios. Ok, the combinations of ingredients that can be put into a cake are limited; I am not sure whether chicken or oysters would make a good cake! Then again, they might just.

As much as a cake depends on an individual’s choice of ingredients, an individual’s taste also dictates what cakes that person will like. Some people love strawberry cakes, with lots of cream and sugar, whereas others prefer solid flavors like vanilla, or chocolate. How can one ever decide what the best cake is?

German bakeries or Baeckereien are filled with wonderful arrays of delicious cakes. In summer months, the fruits take a dominant role in what is baked. Zwetschgendatschi, Aprikosen Kuchen, Himber Torten, and Erdbeer Kuchen are just some of the fruit cakes that make summers marvelous. In the winter and autumn, other cakes become dominant. Each season has its own specialty. The sweet scents of delicious baked goods that waft out of Baeckereien and into streets make you feel happy, and make your mouth water.

Personally, I do not think that I have a favorite cake. It all depends on my mood, time of year, and where I am. At certain moments, I get cravings for chocolate cakes, but then at other moments, all I can think of is delicious light summery tarts. Each of these cakes brings different images to my minds.

When I think of apple crumble or apple cake, images of rainy days come to my mind; the reason being that the local apple season coincided with the rainy season. My mother is an excellent baker, if I say so myself. I was lucky enough to be spoilt with delicious cakes as a child. I would sit in the kitchen and watch her break eggs, weigh flour, weigh and melt butter, weigh sugar, and then mix all of the ingredients, step-by-step, into a big bowl.

Then my mother would take out a baking pan, swiftly grease it, and pour the mix in. The next 30 minutes or so (depending on how long it would take for the cake to bake) would be torture. I would occupy myself doing some sort of work while the sweet scent of a delicious cake would make my mouth water. The moment the cake came out of the oven, I would stand there and welcome it into the world.

Then there was another period of waiting. I was told “hot cakes give children stomach aches.” I do not know if that is actually true, but I diligently listened to my mother, and waited for the cake to cool. Sometimes I would nibble are the rim, testing it, and mentally critiquing it.

Once enough time had passed, and the cake was cool, I could finally have a slice! Most of the time, cake was accompanied by tea. I do not remember every single cake my mother baked for me, yet all of the cakes, together, have created warm memories. Some stick out, like the first time I tried an apple cake (which soon became a favorite), or a strawberry tart with a gelatin glaze. The gelatin glaze on top of the sponge cake was red, and filled with strawberries. I found the cake fascinating, the way the gelatin glaze magically balanced on top of the sponge cake and most of all, the strawberries that floated in the sea of red gelatin.

             

          Cake is wonderful, as it means different things to individuals. It can bring up memories, happy or sad, it comes in different tastes and flavors, and, of course, it fills the stomach.

Word count: 739

Redzepi

"I had no idea that I would be cooking. One of my friends started catering school so I thought 'OK I'll start that', and then on the second day of school there was a competition where you will be judged on taste and appearance. And you know when you are at that age, your biggest decision is whether to play soccer that afternoon, but for some reason I took it very seriously." – Rene Redzepi

http://in.reuters.com/article/2010/04/27/us-food-chefs-redzepi-sb-idINTRE63Q3JU20100427

    

  Rene Redzepi is the chef of Noma, which is supposed to be the best restaurant in the world. Located in Denmark, Noma became famous for its unique ingredients. Chef Rene Redzepi only uses Scandinavian products to create amazing dishes.  This gives his cooking and the restaurant an edge, as it is unique, innovative, and apparently delicious!

     

 High School is the one of the times in life when decision need to be made. University is the next big step ahead of a student, but it isn’t an easy one. First of all, students are pressurized to get good grades, and discover their talents.  Secondly, somehow, they are expected to decide what major they would like to take and which university they want to attend. Along with this, they need to balance everything else, and keep calm.

     

As Redzepi said, “[the] biggest decision is whether to play soccer that afternoon” or not. The future is there, looming ahead, yet the present is also important.  It is important for students to find a balance because the future is the future, and the present is now.  Being happy in the present will carry a happy you into the future.

     

Rene Redzepi followed a friend into the cooking profession, but it turned out to be the right decision. Cooking is about creativity, it is an art. Some people say that feelings can be transferred into the food that is made, if a person is happy the food will taste better than when the person is upset. I am not sure if I really agree with that thought, but I do believe that cooking depends on an individual. No two people will make the exact same meal; it will always have a unique touch.

     

What I admire about Redzepi is his attitude towards food. He believes in local produce, even though at times it may limit the food that he can make. He sticks to what he believes in, and works around the difficulties in innovative ways. 

Word count: 406

Local food

“Do we really want to travel in hermetically sealed popemobiles through the rural provinces of France, Mexico and the Far East, eating only in Hard Rock Cafes and McDonalds? Or do we want to eat without fear, tearing into the local stew, the humble taqueria's mystery meat, the sincerely offered gift of a lightly grilled fish head? I know what I want. I want it all. I want to try everything once.” 
― Anthony Bourdain, Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly

I first heard of Anthony Bourdain watching T.V.  He is an American chef who has travelled the world, and tried almost every dish imaginable. The critique he provides on dishes and cuisines may perhaps be biased, but it always seems like he encourages people to get out there and open their minds when it comes to food.

Trying a new dish in a foreign country may be a risk for some people. You can never be sure how spicy it is, if it suits your taste, and if you will like it all. Often one is afraid that a face expression of disgust might offend the host who has presented one with this dish. It becomes a complicated matter.

Travelling in “hermetically sealed” transportation and eating only in “Hard Rock Cafes and McDonalds” may seem like an appealing option to many people. You get to see the countryside without having to step too far out of your comfort zone.  You still meet the people of the country, and have the opportunity to devote your attention to your surroundings, or do you?

Food is a vital part of any culture. It gives an outsider another perspective on the traditions, values, and beliefs of a foreign society. In India, for example, beef is not part of any traditional meals as the cow is believed to be a holy animal.  Travelling to a new country and not eating the local cuisine is slightly pointless.  Imagine going to Italy and not eating pizza. It is true that you can find pizza in almost every imaginable corner of this world, yet real Italian pizza, in Italy with Italians, is different.  

Missing out on the opportunity to taste a new food item, just because it means taking a step out of your comfort zone is no excuse. Whether you like the new food item does not matter, what does is that you open your mind and try it. It allows you expand your horizons and critique food, just like they do on cooking shows.

Trying a new dish will give you the opportunity to tell stories, and bond with the locals. Locals are usually amused by foreigners trying their traditional dishes, but it also shows them that you respect their culture and traditions. You do not have to eat the local cuisine every day, but try it at least once.

If one goes on holiday on a foreign country, one should not have predetermined opinions. Once one has been there, seen the country-side and the cities, met the people, and tried the food, should one form an opinion. Imagine if Europeans had never been willing to try the potato when it came from America. The world would be a very different place.

Word count: 538

Oh pasta Bolognese!

In the article " Italian chefs tell world how to make correct Bolognese"

for the Telegraph (http://www.telegraph.co.uk/foodanddrink/foodanddrinknews/7017565/Italian-chefs-tell-world-how-to-make-correct-bolognese.html), Nick Squires brings to light the controversial topic of pasta Bolognese.  This dish has been adopted throughout the world as an easy meal to make, yet “spag bol” is not the true pasta Bolognese that originated in Bologna.

The real pasta Bolognese is made with pancetta, carrots, celery, onions, tomato paste, and minced beef. Neither is it served with spaghetti, as most of the world believes. The pasta, tagliatelle is the correct company to the “rich meat and tomato sauce”.

According to the article, gourmands believe that pasta Bolognese should not be mistaken for a simple dish. Chicken or turkey should not be used to substitute for minced beef. In 2010, 450 Italian chefs in 50 countries cooked the real thing using a standard recipe for pasta Bolognese written by the chamber of commerce in Bologna (the home-town of this great dish).

This article seemed bizarre at first; after all it is about pasta. Yet as I read it, I realized that there was more to it than a perspective on cooking pasta Bolognese. This article showed how a simple dish has spread around the world, and changed.

An authentic meal of pasta Bolognese must be wonderful, but who is to say that an adaptation of this dish, perhaps with a little bit of chilli and maybe some lemon-grass, wouldn’t taste delicious either! Sure, this dish might not be entitled to the name “pasta Bolognese”, but it isn’t a new creation either.

It is a blend, as so many things in today’s global world are. It is multicultural, and creative. Its roots may be “pasta Bolgonesian” but it has added its own twist to tradition. It is important for traditional recipes to be remembered, one should never forget what the real dish was, but change is good too.

The traditional pasta Bolognese has history; it is part of the identity of a town and nation.  Purists have every right to be snobbish towards the strange mutations that have appeared on global menus.  These mutations may misinform the public about the dish, yet if they taste good and fill an empty stomach, does it really matter?

Good food is good food, no matter whether it is the original pasta Bolognese or “spag bol”.  Yet the idea that 450 chefs came together to make the authentic dish is fascinating. Italians are clearly proud of their food heritage and their authentic dishes that have been globalized.

Word count: 419

My book

23. If you were to write a book, on what theme or subject matter would it be based, and why? (Stanford/93)

As a high-school student, you have to write essays or paragraphs all the time; either for English assignments, history tests, or even mathematic projects. Writing surrounds you. But for some reason, never have I ever truly considered writing a book.

I doubt anyone can know the number of books written by human beings. They are infinite, not only in number but also in the stories they tell. Some books become bestsellers; others lead more private lives, only ever being read a few people. It all depends on the fate of an individual book, along with its story and writing. I do believe that there are brilliant books which simply never made their way to big publishing houses.

If I were to write a book, I think it would be a children’s book. Children have an imagination that seems to disappear with age.  This is not to say that adults do not have an imagination, of course they do. But the imagination of child is different; it is bigger with more dimensions.

If you tell a child that there are dragons in the back of your garden, they will not question your mental state or burst out in laughter at the apparent absurdity of your statement, they will believe you. They might even check in the garden to see if they are lucky enough to encounter one of the magical dragons.

My tale would be a magical tale.  An adventure in which the protagonist, a brave young girl or boy, has to overcome difficulties, encounter dragons, fight off goblins, drink tea with fairies, and make new friends. The plot would be to save a town or the world from doom.

Stereo typical one might say to the above description. Yes, this story would not be revolutionary in any way, nor will it be a new genre. Yet, this story would, hopefully, teach children about the choices one may have to make in life, and the way to go about making them whilst remembering that your imagination is always there to support through times of difficulties.

I grew up reading these tales, and I believe that, to a certain extent, it is my duty to pass on such stories. These books made my world a lot more interesting. I learnt that you had to stick your friends and help them, that you sometimes had to make tough decisions in life whose benefits only became evident after a while, and that adventure exists.

A garden was not just an eco-system inhabited by different plant and animal life, or as Oxford dictionary says “a piece of ground adjoining a house, used for growing flowers, fruit, or vegetables”. A garden was an adventure; it was the playground of imagination. It was home to fairies, to dragons, to every possible creature I could imagine.
Perhaps being shorter made the whole world more intense, and gardens in particular. What I now look at as a flower beds were once jungles, or tall grasslands.  I believe imagination is vital to having a happy childhood, and it is important to utilize the imagination children are gifted with.

While doing this, children’s books also help shape individuals, their beliefs and values, thus shaping the future of this world. One day a little child will grow-up to become a world leader, and if that child read a children’s book that taught him or her value of integrity, loyalty, and that the end doesn’t really have to be the end. There is always more to life, all one has to do is keep on going and looking towards the brighter future. This child will be able to be optimistic in times of trouble.

It is instances like these where one’s imagination can help, and hopefully bring back the happy memories created by a certain special children’s book, a certain book, hopefully, written by me. Word-count: 663 

Food that makes you happy

          In her article “Eating your way to happiness in the Philippines”(http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-17471626) for the BBC, Kate McGeown writes about a new happiness promoting restaurant in the Philippines. The “Vincent van Gough is Bipolar” restaurant in the Philippines claims that its food can make people happy. The restaurant’s owner, Jetro Rafael, has crazy dishes that combine ingredients (such as turkey and green apple) to create a diet that will may you happy.  Mr. Rafael developed his recipes from his own experience with depression and mood swings.

There is scientific evidence that backs the idea that certain foods (such as dark chocolate, cranberries, or omega-3) can “improve a person’s mood.” Unfortunately there is no evidence that food can have a long term effect in changing or improving a person’s mood. Guests at restaurant say that this does not bother them; the ambiance itself makes them happy to be there.

Food has always had powerful properties. Some people believe that certain flowers, if added to a dish, can bring luck, love, or happiness (this is popular in some of Shakespeare’s plays).  Chocolate is one food that has had an ever more increasing fame as a mood improver. This claim can now be backed by scientific evidence, but maybe each individual responds to food items differently.

Dishes from childhood memories, such as pancakes or French-toast, can put a smile on one person’s face while not conjure up any particular feeling in another person. I believe it is the memories attached to certain dishes or food items that make them a mood improver. Even if someone forgets a certain memory, seeing or eating a dish connected to it might just change that person’s mood.

I personally find Mr. Rafael concept brilliant. Who doesn’t want to go to a restaurant where the food will make you happier?  But more than it just being the food, I think it is the concept and thought behind each dish that helps make a person happier. The ambiance is definitely key too.  The lighting, colours of the walls, company and music affect a person’s mood greatly as well.

None the less, just wanting to make people happier through food is a wonderful idea. Whether there is scientific evidence to back the long-term effect of such a diet does not matter, after all it is the thought that counts. What helps one person may not help another, but trying never hurts. 

Word count-400

Total word count:3002

The end of a topic

All of the blogs on this page have a thread connecting them. They all (well expect one) have something to do with famous British women.

Why British women? The first news article I read after being given this assignment was the one on the “Iron lady”. It inspired me, and I thought why not just blog about famous British women.

Women are not just powerful or influential as politicians, or queens. Models, feminists, and journalists are just some of the examples how women make a difference in this world. Despite the common held belief that being a woman has its disadvantages in a mainly male dominated society, the people written about in this blog show the opposite.

Sometimes it may mean having to put up with criticism for one’s choice or clothes, words, and actions; but times change.  People adapt themselves to new ideas, what once was seen as scandalous can soon become the norm (take Lennox and suits).  If one is strong enough, and brave enough to stand tall and continue to fight for what one believes in, nothing is impossible.

Yes, it all sounds very cliché. Not always does a new idea manage to triumph the odds working against it. Sometimes one just has to admit defeat. The idea that it is possible to make a difference in this world, no matter who you are, is comforting and encouraging. 

Is the world not a nicer place if you believe that maybe one day you can be the one to create a new fashion trend, or even bring peace to turmoil?  The point is that what you do does not have to make a global impact for it to make a difference in this world. Even just saying “hello” to someone can brighten up their day.

Word count:297 

Love and Freedom

Love and freedom are vital to the creation and upbringing of a child. 
Sylvia Pankhurst 

Few can disagree with this quote. This world may be large, and have many different approaches on how to raise children, yet love is universally accepted as a “vital” component in the “upbringing of a child.”

The component of freedom is usually more debated upon. Some cultures believe that children should be allowed to grow and discover themselves without too many external opinions shaping their perspective on life. The “Montessori” school system exemplifies this concept.

Other cultures believe that children should be given freedom, yet no too much, as they are only children. How can one expect a little being that is inexperienced to be able to make decisions? Yes, experience teaches, yet sometimes is it not better for the child not to undergo hurtful experiences and instead be guided or informed of the consequences by an adult. If this is the case, then it is better for adults to limit a child’s freedom as to insure the child’s safety. Sadly this too has its extreme. Sometimes children are not given any freedom to become individuals, and are instead moulded into the creature their parent want them to be.

I believe that the major debate that may evolve out of this quote is based on the definition of “freedom”. What freedoms and the degree to which one should allow children to have the choice to make their own decisions is a decisive factor for me.

I do believe that children need to go out and experience life for themselves. Burning ones finger on a hot stove teaches a little child not to touch hot objects. Climbing trees, and running around gives children an opportunity to discover the eco-system in their surroundings. Freedom allows children to become their own people and not just fill in a mould created by their parents.

Freedom must have its limitations as well (in the case of the “creation and upbringing of a child”). Children are not adults. They need rules and regulations to guide them, and help them lead a healthy life. Most children love sweets, and if it were up to them, they would live of sugar (at least I would have). This would create various health problems for them, and most likely rot all their teeth. Fortunately, adults exist to curtail a child’s access to sugar.

Of course there is a counter-argument to this example: if a child is given the freedom to eat as much sugar as they want, they will eventually become sick of it, and stop eating it. Sadly though, the consequences of eating too much sugar may come before this realization (and often be the reason for the realization).

“Love” is definitely “vital to the creation and upbringing of a child”. It gives the child the support and confidence it needs to grow-up and face the wide world. It makes a child feel special and cared for. It lets a child know that it is wanted. Yet “freedom” needs to have its limitations. Freedom is most certainly a “vital” component. It is needed to discover oneself, but too much freedom may have consequences.

A little bird cannot fly; it needs its mothers love and support to grow.  Eventually its confidence grows and it decides it can fly, the mother watches and may even decide that the little bird needs a shove out of the nest. The little bird tries but cannot fly, the mother bird will not just watch her baby fall to its death; she will go and save it. She gives her baby freedom but keeps an eye out to make sure here baby is still safe.

Word count:615 

That tree

How very little can be done under the spirit of fear.
Florence Nightingale
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Fear freezes humanity. What can you do if you are afraid? Once a fear it is overcome, it is easy to look back and mock the fear. Have you ever wanted to climb a tree, but you were afraid to fall? You cannot simply look past this fear and climb up. The fear prevents you from doing what you want. It plays out scenarios in your mind that exaggerate the consequences of your actions.
The tree might just be ten feet tall, but fear makes you believe that you have 100 feet to fall. The more you think about it, the greater the exaggeration becomes. 100 feet turn into 1000, and soon you are thinking that a bottom-less pit awaits you.
If you are lucky, you might have some friends around you. If these friends are encouraging and supportive, they might be able to convince you that climbing a tree will not be the last thing you do. Usually assurance that they will be there to catch you does the trick.
Maybe, just maybe, you are overcome by bravery. You dare to climb that ten foot tree!
You climb, and realize that you had nothing to fear. Your friends are there, and the tree is only ten feet tall, not 100 or 1000, and there is no bottom-less pit at the end.
Once you are safely back on the ground, you have the opportunity to reflect on the experience. You laugh at your fear. Yet, that fear managed to control your mind.
This situation is one where the risk is small, therefore (I believe), the fear is easier to overcome. This is not always the case. The risk might be greater, even death, and the fear is all the more terrifying. These are dangerous situations, as humans often resort to actions they would never think of in their right minds. They cannot express their true feelings under the control of fear. I believe WWII Germany is a perfect example of the power fear has over individuals. "Very little can be done" when fear rules the mind.
Fear freezes humanity, but once it is overcome, a world of possibility awaits.

Word count: 374

I was perceiving myself as good as a man or equal to a man and as powerful and I wanted to look ambiguous because I thought that was a very interesting statement to make through the media. And it certainly did cause quite a few ripples and interest and shock waves.
Annie Lennox

Read more:http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/a/annie_lennox.html#ixzz1onCAlGLA

100 years ago, women were expected to wear dresses. Once in a while, there would be a woman who would wear pantaloons (the old name for pants, pants was considered an impolite word), but she was either eccentric or crazy. Today woman can wear pants, and no one will look twice. Yet when Annie Lennox began wearing men's clothes, it sent "shock waves" through the media.
The liberties gained by women over the years are many. They can vote, work, and run for political positions. But when it comes to clothing, women are still expected to stick to certain expectations. Men's clothing is one step to far. Or is it?
Ever since Annie Lennox made her bold statement, women have started wearing male apparel more often. The wall of confinement, when it comes to clothing, has been broken down, at least in general.
This makes me wonder why, and when did the apparel for men and women split. In the pictures of cavemen, it seems like they both wear the same fur garments. When did humanity decide that men should different clothes from women?
My guess is that it had something to do with the job distinctions that evolved for the both the sexes as civilization evolved. Even today, we wear different clothes for different jobs: you wouldn't go swimming in night-suit.
Maybe in 500 years, men will begin to wear skirts and it will become unacceptable for women to be seen in anything other than pants. When it comes to the future, imagine tends to run wild as the possibilities seem endless. It is fun to imagine all of the crazy things that could be, but perhaps clothing style will not change much. Who knows?
None-the-less, one has to admire people like Annie Lennox, who stand up against the norms of society and manage to change them.

*when it comes to the clothing norms of society, this piece is mainly based on western fashion trends.

Word count: 381