Their Eyes Were Watching God: Ch. 9-20

In sight of Jody´s death, Janie finds herself content with a life filled with freedom, one she had never been familiar with. From a young age Janie had been controlled by Nanny and both of her husbands, however their absence in her life after Jody dying lets her experience a whole new way of living. She takes it in and although she is pleased with her independence, she keeps it hidden from the town people´s agile ears and judgmental tongues.  Gradually however, Janie does not care for the criticism she would receive. This is yet another step in which Janie breaks down barriers of her former self, a Janie that was preoccupied with other talk. It marks the start of this side of Janie, until a reaching a complete transformation. We see in the beginning of the book that when Janie comes back home in overalls she seems almost oblivious to those speaking around her.                Later on, Tea Cake is introduced to the story, as he meets Janie and she quickly notices his demeanor and sly way of talking. Another man in Janie´s life, but this time it’s different and more towards the horizon than Janie will ever be. When Tea Cake asks her to play checkers with her, it becomes a sign of what is distinctive between him and the other men. He is respectful and unlike Jody, it becomes apparent that Tea Cake sees Janie as an equal than an inferior. They make their relationship public; again open to judgment that Janie ignores, once again showing the growth in conquering her vulnerability. They move to Jacksonville in promise of a life together.                Though Tea Cake cares for Janie more that the others, there is also this aspect of Tea Cake, the gambling, his disappearances and how Janie falls completely gullible to his words, that create a feeling of unease toward his character, a skeptical view of what is to come for Janie and him. They soon move to the Everglades and in chapter 15, when Janie experiences a grave feeling of jealousy overcome her, watching Tea Cake and Nunkie flirt, we see the true toll of love and a sort of possession that has taken over Janie.                Janie meets Mrs. Turner, a conceited and arrogant woman in her town that nonetheless befriends Janie. She expresses her racist views toward black people, although being dark skinned as well. She believes in race inferiority and believes that blacks are the ones to fill that slot. Mrs. Turner´s character is a bizarre turn in the story, from being racist towards her own race to controlling her husband; she seems to be the epiphany of all Janie´s environment was not.  When Mrs. Turner says Janie should marry her brother, Tea Cake feels threatened by solely the suggestions and at the sight of the brother in town, beats Janie in order to show his power over her. Regardless of this unusual act of violence by Tea Cake, Janie does not show any resentment. She is utterly in love with him to the point of dismissing the flaws he bares.                Later on in the Everglades, very gradually, Tea Cake, Janie and other people from the town observe as Native Americans travel up north. When asked why, they explain that a storm is coming, news that is ignored by both Janie and Jody who refuse to leave.  The hurricane comes like the Native Americans and many other immigrating had told both of them.  It left the whole town in devastation and Tea Cake watches in horror as the bodies are piled, segregated even at death, coffins for those white and pits for those who are colored. During the hurricane and their struggle Tea Cake had been bitten by a dog that later proves to have been rabid, eventually affecting Tea Cake as he becomes paranoid and delusional.  He looses his sanity, slowly and then all at once becoming wild. That is when Janie shoots him with the rifle that he himself taught her to use. Janie is put on trial for murder but as she speaks of her husband there is no doubt that this is a woman who loved Tea Cake thus using herself as witness sets her free of charge.                Now that the journey that Tea Cake had offered Janie back in the Everglades was done, she comes back home to Janie and sits at night to wonder about her life back at the Everglades. Although her story ended with Tea Cake by her own hand, she realizes that Tea Cake gave her that horizon that she so had been longing since those days under the plum tree.                

Their Eyes Were Watching God: Chapter 4-8

In sight of having married Joe Starks through some what desperation and eagerness for a better horizon, Janie joins him on his search for business. They arrive at a small town, quickly finding their hopes dis-inflated at the sight of what they can barely call a town. However, this does not stop Joe from taking charge and he does so quickly. With his confidence and poise he hires men from the town to help him build his store, surely enough earning Joe the title of Mayor due to the absence of a former one. It is when he is named mayor that the first signs of faults to Joe’s character start showing. It not only become evident to us, but to Janie’s character as well. When the townspeople ask Janie, “Ms.Mayor”, to speak, Joe refuses and says there is no room for women making speeches. This reveals the sexism that lives inside Joe and that mentality we had not clearly seen before. This more thoroughly adds to the theme of gender roles that we see in the novel through Janie and the relationship with her first husband. Signs of Joe’s faults were given at first when introduced to his character. He told Janie right away about his business, foreshadowing his further infatuation with power rather than care for people, in particular Janie.

Joe states that the town needs a street lamp and it is through this that he creates a sense of pride for the townspeople toward their town. Regardless of the townspeople worries, Janie is still annoyed with Joe and his lack of time for her, obviously showing the cracks in her better horizon that she thought to be promised in the form of Joe. He possesses a dominant hand over Janie and tries to craft her into the woman he has in mind for himself.

In the store Joe makes Janie put her hair up with a rag, which in link, symbolizes his control over her as Janie’s hair in previous chapters had been depicted as her sexuality. The towns people comment on her hair and speak of the way Jody makes her put it up, metaphorically speaking, the author is referring to Janie's hair as her potential and the way she ties it up thanks to Joe, as her shackle. Later on, the level of Joe’s dominance over Janie grows and her resentment builds with it. He speaks of her incompetence at any slight mistake she might make, an ironic accusation since Joe’s power in particular is what is making Janie conform. Although the mule, which Joe buys to please Janie, may seem like an act of kindness, it is only attained through money, which in retrospective is just another portrayal of his obsession with power. Janie not only feels resentment for her husband but begins to hate the life she lives in its entirety and become exasperated.

Jody begins to deteriorate physically and emotionally, becoming sickly and vicious towards Janie all the same. Despite Janie’s hatred for her aging husband she calls for a doctor which informs her that Jody is soon to die. On his deathbed, Janie and him get into an argument which results in the complete breakdown of Joe’s character. Janie insults him and accuses him of his excessive dominance and ego, upon this Joe realizes the truth in her words and begs her to stop. He then dies and Janie’s first act is to release the rag that has tied up her hair for long enough. Through this act she reasserts her right and breaks the dominance that Jody had cast upon her. It is in this moment of confrontation and the death of her husband that a realization of self path is conquered.

Their Eyes Were Watching God: Chapter 1-3

In a small town down in the south, Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston begins with the trek of Janie Starks, toward the porch of her loyal best friend Phoeby Watson. All eyes on her as she walks through the town to seek comfort in the presence of her friend, the whisper of judgmental thoughts, ring in her ear loud and clear. Becoming an immediate outcast after rumors of her man leaving her and taking all of her money, eyes on her, remorse, memories and the overalls she has on are the only things left for her to hold on to. However, when Phoeby asks about the truth in the rumors, Janie rebukes it and begins her recount of events; starting her story at a more naïve and young version of Janie herself.
                Janie explains her experience at the Washburn’s, the white household she used to live in along side her grandma, Nanny. At a young age Janie struggled to understand her identity to the extent of not recognizing the difference between her skin and the other children’s.  Although this aspect of the chapter might be seen as the naivety of a child and the lack of prejudice at a young age, the color of one skin isn’t really something you can avoid for very long. For a child to not understand why her skin makes her different is one thing, but Janie seemed not to know that she was of black descent at all; this realization marks the beginning of Janie as a black girl aware of her color which plays an important role in the book, emphasis on blacks culture is what shapes her and the story, even through the vernacular narration expressed through dialogue.                Nanny, being her guardian after the departure of her mother, decides to buy her and Janie her own land and eventually move away. This house is where we are introduced to the blossoming pear tree, and immediate stress is put on this tree, showing great importance to Janie and her coming of age. The tree is blossoming just as Janie is at the age of sixteen, a metaphor for this phase in her life, Janie observes and the bees come to visit the tree from time to time and share their sting and wonders why everything around her is so alive while she is not. The bees and tree are a metaphor for women and men and translate into Janie’s life as she becomes eager for a man to come and visit her own tree.  Nanny marries her off to Logan Hillicks, a marriage where Janie finds no happiness. When Janie complains of her early marriage, Nanny tells her of her hardships; how she was born into slavery, raped and yet cared for her daughter and now her grandchild like her own—a character that extenuates the power of a true woman and her refusal to be turned into a mule by male. Nanny dies soon after that, the death of a proud black woman, yet the beginning of another one—Janie.                A year after Nanny has died; Janie still does not love Logan but rather seeks comfort in a sharp handsome man named Joe Starks. Janie seeking comfort in men and their presence gives us a sense of her lack of independence and the long way she has to go to become the woman her grandmother was. Her own self is not enough to keep her happy, she is very much obsessed with the concept of love just as she was when looking at the bees and the tree.  Joe Starks is a part of Janie’s search for something better, a new life that will be superior to her previous one, a new horizon in which she can find love and happiness. So eager to find this new horizon, she marries Joe the first chance she gets, desperate to get what she wants. Yet at this point, Janie isn’t even quite sure of what she wants, rather a need to be alive. 

Color Collective Poem

Silver Spring- Benjamin Moore

2120-70

Spring,
A bud, barely blossoming
She stares out

out her window 

in anticipation

Keen to sneak out the kitchen door

she holds her breath

one, two, three

lets it out, back in

inhaling the chilly air

(it hurts her lungs)

When the raindrops

make their way
to the icy branches
of the cherry blossom tree

She spends her days 

out,
in the wilderness
running free

Winter, 

Just an ice cold skeleton in her memory
she glides
through her silver spring.

Her mother

at the kitchen sink

her father gone
the child, she seeks happiness
in the vanishing cold 

her coat made of nylon

She lets her pale lips

kiss the frigid air
and her bones weaken
She leaves those memories 

to be buried 

in the ground
No more despair

Her mouth begins to feel dry

she slowly and thoroughly

moves her still damp tongue

Across her chapped, cracked, colorless lips

The air begins to numb

Her hands

She reaches for the door knob

Back home

But her hand slips off

And comes back

To her side

She decides to sit on the stairs

The ones that lead home

And a single cherry blossom

Falls to her feet

It lays motionless

With a thin layer of snow still under

Her hand reaches out to it

And picks it up

There will be others like it

Replacing the snow

She reaches for the door knob

And says

Goodbye to her silver spring.

Where I'm From

I am from slides and swings
From D’onofrio and Inca Kola
I am from the cross over every bed
Damaged, worn, carved, crafted from wood
And dipped in holy water.

I am from bugambilias
White, purple or pink
But always carry thorns
The ones I did not know of
Until I picked at one.

I am from homemade
Guanabana ice-cream on sweltering days
from short, small stature
Alicia and Regina
and the Merino family tree
I am from fast thinkers,
Jokesters and the prank players.

I am from you choose your own path and enjoy it while it last
From tracing the sacred symbol across my face and chest
Prayers I was told to keep in my heart
But I have lost
Lost and barely keep in my mind.

From Aji and rice
(No matter on what)
From the hearts my uncle used to break
And the kisses he would steal
The joy in my grandmother’s blind
But still, deep green eyes.

I am from the bronze frames on the wooden cabinet
Albums leaking abundance of memories,
And stolen photographs to greedily keep
Under the pillow,
Under the bed,
To salve the distance
Remember the lost faces
Cut, picked from the tree.

I am from Lima, Peru
But my heart,
It belongs to other places too,
I am from where I wish to be
the place that’s absence
Causes my melancholy.

I am from everywhere I have lived
every country I was ever referring to
when I whined, whimpered, whispered,
I want to go home.

And although at moments I feel
I am not there now
I know where I come from
From hugs and kisses and
Te amaré por siempre
I am from the arms of my family
That wrap around me
Like the sun does the day

It always comes back to
where my heart
Wishes to be.
I know in those short moments
those magnificent moments of remembrance
I can‘t help but smile
But get that warm feeling in my heart
that I know
Where
I am from.

Uncertain Living

"Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it"- George Santayana

"No hay pasado ni futuro en la existencia, la existencia es solo presente."/ "There is no past or future in existence, existence is just the present."- Macaco

"The past cannot be changes; the future is yet in your power."- Mary Pickford

      My mother told me to live in the present; that I shouldn’t look for the future or seek the past. However some days, minutes, years later I learned about this place called heaven; I’m sure you have heard of it: A place superior to earth, to anything, to anyone and the basics steps to get there were as simple as being good.  But heaven as I’ve been told lays in the future, something I was once told not to worry about. Around this time I was taught by my mother herself that I was to learn from my past. And that’s when I became uncertain on the concept of living before, now or then. To follow mother’s teachings in their entirety I was to learn from my past, to think about heaven but still be able to live in the present. To learn from the past, live in the present and aspire for the future. At the end of the day, it’s really your decision how you want to live your life, past, present or future and for this reason I picked poems about living in every one of these, being able to captivate those who live or aspire to live in anyone of these tense.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

     If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

     A Word is Dead by Emily Dickinson

     A Patch of Old Snow by Robert Frost

     To Virgins, To Make Much of Time by Robert Herrick

     Dreams by Langston Hughes

     Look To The Future by Leah Harlow 

     Three Airs for the Beggar's Opera, Air XXII by John Gay

Society Killed the Teenager

        

I barely turn on the news and it is only because of things like this. I’m afraid that I’ll find myself listening to tragic events where people like George Zimmerman kill innocent people (in this case a teen) and where young people like Trayvon Martin are killed. 17 year old Trayvon Martin was simply walking in Sanford, Florida, with nothing more than a bag of skittles in his hand, iced tea in the other and a hoodie over his head. However George Zimmerman shot him dead, claiming that the boy looked suspicious and that he only did it in an act of "self-defense".

Prejudice, unfortunately, is a part of our community and society: appearances are judged frequently and this is exactly what Zimmerman did. He judged Trayvon, simply and solely knowing what he looked like.  Prejudice leads to injustice and it is evident when a black male in a hoodie is considered “suspicious” and a threat. It is evident when he is shot and killed, the murderer is not charged with manslaughter and the police department chooses to ignore the case.

The innocent deserve to live; however, sometimes they just don’t. Its the ugly truth, but we, as individuals have responsibilities in impeding events like this from happening. Discrimination shouldn’t be something we act upon,everyone deserves to feel safe and rights should be respected while we do everything we can to prevent harm. Although it isn’t much, it`s all we can do as individuals and all we can do to help.

As a child, i feared things i didn’t understand. I faced fears like monsters under my bed, in my closet, even the thought of a creature coming into my room and taking me away. But what i didn’t understand was that these were only figments that adults would speak of and which i portrayed as malevolent creatures. And if you think about it, adults do the same thing when stereotyping; they create an image for certain people and ,others, unaware, sucumb to believe in such accusations. And this seems to be the case when talking about the murder of Trayvon Martin. George Zimmerman acted upon those accusations;a black male in a hoodie is not automatically a threat. But just like a child, he feared something he did not understand and the result was tragic.

It hurts to know that innocent people are killed on a daily basis. That the world we live in is messed up and we, as individuals cannot change it alone. It’s something we cannot fight and take into our own hands. It hurts us one way or another, and it’s something that I’m afraid to say, will just get worse-- Society. I try to do my best for this world, and i keep my hopes up, waiting for someone, something to come along, to change people. Create a world where prejudice, racism and discrimination are absent and where equality, rights and freedom aren’t JUST things we claim to have, but truly are concepts our society is based on. But me, I’m one person in this planet, a planet that holds over another billion just like me.  There really  isn’t any other  way to put it-- this world is messed up, and things like these just reinforce my point.