Great Music and Revenge?

This post is going to be a bit serious. A couple weeks ago I was watching the movie “Selena” which essentially is a biography of the famous Latina singer Selena Quintanilla-Perez, who was killed in 1995. Now I’ve seen the movie before and I knew some of her story even before I saw the movie the first time; each time I think about it, I’m struck by how tragic it is.

I may not agree with everything Selena did (the, ahem, bustier) but I love her music and she was a gorgeous, extremely talented, passionate, amazing singer. I don’t just like her songs, I like the way she sang them. I think that her untimely death (she was only about 24 years old when she was killed) was a huge tragedy and the music industry lost an amazing vocalist and performer when she died. But I digress.

So I was watching the movie (for the umpteenth time) and I found myself getting really angry at the woman who killed Selena. Although she was tried and is currently in jail serving her sentence, somehow it just didn’t seem like punishment enough for the woman who robbed a family of their daughter and sister, a husband of his wife, friends of a friend and thousands of fans of the singer they loved. I’m not exactly sure what punishment I thought would have been sufficient, but I was really furious with this woman. But then a strange thing happened…

Suddenly it dawned on me that even if a harsher punishment had been meted out to Selena’s killer, that would not solve anything; it would not bring Selena back from death and restore her to her family, friends and fans. It matters not what else is done to that woman, I (and other fans) will still never be able to see Selena perform live anywhere; all we have are recordings of the concerts she did in her lifetime. My anger served no purpose; this woman is already in jail, where, presumably, she can’t hurt any one else.

Then I realized that my time and effort would be better spent being grateful for the fact that Selena did get a chance to share her talent with the world and that I can still listen to her songs and dance around and sing into a hairbrush (you probably didn’t need to know that last bit). The knowledge that her music lives on and that she has inspired others to chase after the dreams that they are passionate about would probably mean more to those who were close to her than an angry mob carrying lanterns and pitchforks and screaming “Off with her head” at Selena’s killer.

But I know that sometimes our natural response when we’re hurt (or the people we care about are hurt) is to retaliate; you hurt me, therefore I want you to feel pain as well. Now I am by no means saying that people should be allowed to go around hurting others without consequence; justice should always be served. What I am saying is perhaps we get so caught up in our righteous anger that the desire for justice becomes a desire for revenge. Sometimes we get so distracted in our fight that we forget that we have to seek healing for our hurt.

I remember watching an episode of “Little House on the Prairie” once, in which Laura was hurt by something her sister, Mary, did. Laura eventually did something (I can’t remember the details) in retaliation, but afterwards she told her father that she thought that hurting Mary back would make her (Laura) feel better, but she actually felt worse. I know this has happened to me as well; after the anger cooled, the hurt was still there and I had added to it the knowledge that I had hurt someone else.

I am no sage and I am not perfect, but I’d like to suggest we (I’m including myself here because it is a lesson I am still learning) try to focus more on forgiveness and being healed from our hurts, rather than retaliation. Let us seek justice, but not to the point where we get so angry that we forget to seek healing for our hurts and solutions for our problems, and let us try not to lose sight of the fact that the people who hurt us, are also people.

Happy reading,

The shespeaksandwritesblogger.

The Time I Couldn’t Even

Yes, this, my first humorous post (well I tried to be humorous anyway), is all about the (first) time I “couldn’t even.” Now those of you who either are teenaged girls (or even young adults), or have had the experience of interacting with teenaged girls may have already heard them use the expression “I can’t even” in response to various situations. Honestly, the first time I heard this expression, I thought it was a bit ridiculous; if someone “can’t even”, how does that person “even?” (people can even? How?). Anyway, I suppose this was one of those experiences that taught me to “never say never.”

Before I begin recounting my experience, let me give a little background information for my readers who may not have encountered this particular expression. The expression “I can’t even” is one that is often used by young people when they encounter something (a joke, a meme, a story) that is so funny/ridiculous/unbelievable/shocking (you can go ahead and substitute any other appropriate adjective there) that they can’t react to it; no reaction seems adequate for the situation, thus they “can’t even” (as in they can’t even begin to figure out what to say/do in response to whatever it is).

Okay, it’s time to begin the story. As I said previously, I initially thought the expression made no sense. So one day I was  skimming through Facebook looking for jokes involving puns (don’t judge me). I was scrolling down one of my favourite pages that specializes in puns (some people have really raised pun-making to the level of an art form) and I saw it: the best pun ever. I mean this pun was everything a pun should be: it was witty, hysterically funny, clever and so ridiculously stale that it would be impossible for its hearer to keep a straight face. I was sitting there in the presence of this great pun when I realized that I was so blown away that I couldn’t react…and the only expression that would describe my situation was the one I thought was ridiculous before. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I couldn’t even. I really couldn’t even.

Needless to say, at that moment I ceased to think the expression was ridiculous. I now understand what it means so well that I often find myself using the expression when speaking to people (informally of course) and also when sharing jokes on Facebook (#Icanteven #nolopuedo). I’ve seen other forms of the expression as well; some say “I am unable to even” or “I have lost the ability to even.”

I hope that, as ridiculous as this post was, it made you, reader, chuckle (at the very least). If at the end of it, you can’t even, then all I can say is “mission accomplished.”

Happy reading!

The shespeaksandwrites blogger.

“Charlotte’s Web” – Little Book, Big Insight.

“Charlotte’s Web” by E.B. White is not just your average delightful children’s novel. It is (dare I say) deceptively simple; at first it may appear to only be a lovely story about friendship (which it is by the way). But I’m getting ahead of myself; let me begin by giving a little synopsis (no spoilers, I promise) before I make my observations. The story begins when a tender-hearted little girl named Fern saves a piglet, who is the runt of the litter, from death. She names him Wilbur and in the course of caring for the piglet, she becomes very fond of him. Wilbur is eventually sold to her uncle, who owns a farm and lives nearby. Wilbur becomes very lonely in the farm; Fern attends school and cannot always be there to keep him company (I should mention here that Fern is capable of understanding what the animals say to each other). However, he soon makes an unlikely friend in a spider named Charlotte. Poor Wilbur is then thrown into a state of terrible fear when he learns that the farmer plans to fatten him up and then kill him. Charlotte vows to ensure that Wilbur is not killed and she eventually hatches a plan to save Wilbur’s life: she weaves the words “Some pig” into her web above Wilbur’s pen and continues to weave words into her web until she succeeds in keeping her promise. That’s as far as I’ll go in the synopsis; if I go much further, I’ll spoil the ending. This story of the friendship between Wilbur and Charlotte is heart-warming (and possibly  tear-jerking as well). It is a great testament to the power of friendship as well as a reminder of how much we all need at least one truly good friend in our lives (and how much we need to be a truly good friend to someone else as well). But there’s more to the story than that. I found it interesting that every human in the story became fascinated by Wilbur after Charlotte weaved words into her web, although (if you think about it), the truly fascinating animal is Charlotte (a spider can spell? And write? Hello people?). The farmer’s wife was the only person that thought that perhaps the spider who weaved the words, rather than the pig the words referred to, was the extraordinary animal. However, the farmer brushed aside this thought. I couldn’t help but think of the many times this happens in real life; the person who makes a keen observation that really points to the heart of the matter is often brushed aside. There’s another little gem of good sense tucked into this story of friendship: the story is an excellent demonstration of the power of the written word. Charlotte is simply a small spider, but she saves Wilbur’s life by repeatedly weaving words into her web above his pen. There has always been a certain power in written words; things seem more official, or more important, or even more likely to be true, when they’re written in “black and white.” If I said that I merely enjoyed this book, I’d be making a huge understatement. I loved reading it; it served as a reminder of the power of friendship. Initially the idea that a tiny spider could save a pig from the death the farmer planned for it was bit incredible. But Charlotte did it; she is a reminder that no matter the actual size of the one who loves (and his/her perceived powerlessness), with love he/she can accomplish something big. Happy reading and best regards, The shespeaksandwrites blogger.

Just a little bookworm logic.

I had this brilliant (well I hope it’s brilliant) idea to begin my Book Review category with an introductory post about books (shocking right? What will she do next?). Many of the books I’ve read were not written in this century, or even the previous one. Why would I (or anyone for that matter) want to read anything written using words that the average person doesn’t use anymore, set in a time (and even place) that had nothing to do with me and describing experiences that I will never have?

Now I could explain that books are a great way to escape (almost like a vacation) for a little while and visit another place (and time too) without ever having to leave your chair, or that it’s a great way to improve your speaking and writing skills (assuming you’re reading well-written books of course). While those things are true, my answer is much simpler: people are always people.

The time and place people live in as well as their experiences with their families, friends and society in general, play a huge role in shaping them, but that doesn’t change the fact that, well, they’re people. People have been laughing and crying, loving and wanting revenge, making friends and enemies, hurting others and getting hurt by others, learning and teaching, probably since people began. So even though we may not go to balls, or ride in carriages, or say ‘thee’ and ‘thou’, we can still relate to characters in stories who, although the way they experienced certain things may be different, experienced things.

Shakepeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” is an example: while most people may not be members of families who have a deep-seated dislike for each other, I’m sure that many people have felt infatuation and love. In “Little Women” we are reminded of what it’s like to be members of a family, of the simple joys and sorrows families go through together and of how much better life can be when we share it with our loved ones. Even though none of  us were alive during the French Revolution, we can be reminded of someone in our lives who makes sacrifices for the people he/she cares about (hopefully it won’t have to be as serious as Sydney Carton’s sacrifice was in “A Tale of Two Cities.”).

My final point about books is this: while some people can still appreciate the language and the writing style of the classic authors (Hint: I’m one of those people), others want to know why they waste so many words in descriptions and what seems like flowery language. I prefer to look at these books as works of art; the author is the artist, their pen (or typewriter or laptop) is the paintbrush and the words make up the painting. I don’t just want to know what happened to the characters in the story, I want to know how they felt, what influenced their decisions and what conditions they lived under. I want to cry when tragedies happen, laugh at the comic parts and shake my fist at the villain. I want to picture what their houses looked like and feel like I’m in a carriage travelling through the English countryside, or sailing in a ship across the Atlantic. I encourage you to try it; reading can be quite an adventure and you can learn a lot along the way.

Anyway, this rather long post serves as my welcome to the Book Reviews section. I will try my best to avoid giving spoilers.

Best regards and happy reading,

The shespeaksandwrites blogger.

Hello world!

Hello everyone and welcome to my new blog: shespeaksandwrites. I know the name sounds a tad unusual, so let me begin by explaining the reason I chose it.This blog is called shepeaksandwrites because, quite simply, I’m a young woman, and this is the space where I will share my words with you. My topics will not be limited to any particular subject, because life is not limited to any one type of experience, so you can expect to see many types of posts: humorous posts, posts that are thought-provoking, anecdotes, poetry, book reviews (I am always reading something) and even some religious/moral pieces, because God is also part of my life experience.

Another reason that I chose this name for my blog is that I was (and I vehemently insist that I still am) a shy person so it usually takes a while before I warm up enough to start sharing my words with anyone. When I do start to share my words, however, people are usually shocked (she speaks? Wow!). Thus the name for the blog comes from the reactions people usually have when I finally feel comfortable enough in their space to start speaking (and then they realize that I do actually have quite a lot to say). What is the moral of that story? Quiet people should be left alone. I’m kidding (feel free to chuckle). The moral of that story is that quiet people aren’t always quiet because they have nothing to say; sometimes they’re too afraid to say it (and sometimes we’ve realized that speaking would cause more harm than good).

Anyway, I do hope you enjoy it, and I ask that you keep your comments respectful.

Best regards,

The shespeaksandwrites blogger.